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#hoping for spring asap
happyheidi · 1 year
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lupismaris · 1 year
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yueebby · 6 months
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onsen incident  — gojo satoru
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synopsis. gojo satoru gets everything he wants and right now he really wants to go to an onsen with you.
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he's just a cute loser, highschool!gojo (first year), he needs to be locked up asap
notes. this is part ii to indulge me? and a piece in the series, but can be read alone.
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you’re not sure how you ended up here. one moment you were exorcizing a grade one curse that rampaged a small town with gojo and now you find yourself back at the ryokan you had stayed at the prior night. except this time around you have an overly excited gojo, still at a high from the successful mission.
“suguru mentioned how nice the onsens here were,” he brings up innocently, his lips curving into a sly grin. you spare him a side glance. 
“we should be heading back to the airport to return to tokyo,” you asserted, eyes trained on the entrance of the onsen— a wooden paneled door leading to the private hot spring that came with the room you and gojo had unknowingly reserved. 
gojo stretched leisurely, his body arched like a cat as he yawns, “i don’t know about you but i’m beat! that curse wore out all my energy and a quick dip in an onsen is just what this body needs.” he opens one eye, gauging your reaction.
you don’t buy his act. “you exorcised the curse instantaneously, gojo.”
but gojo doesn’t back down easily, “yeah, well that took up a lot of cursed energy and now i’m drained,” he reasons. the white haired male solidifies his argument by collapsing on you just to show how fatigued he was. his dramatic show nearly sends you tumbling.
annoyance simmered in you, arms folding over your chest. the flight back to tokyo was in a couple of hours, and you had hoped to be able to go sightseeing. 
but gojo’s sky-blue eyes plead silently as they look up at you, unblinking. his pink lips start to quiver. it was hard to deny him when he was basically begging. as comical as his dramatics were, you could almost argue how hard it was to resist his unwavering gaze. plus, he was the one that completed the mission singlehandedly.  
“fine.” you yielded. “thirty minutes and then we leave.”
he perks up happily.
“great! let’s go!” without wasting a moment, he seizes your hand and practically skips to the entrance. 
you recoiled, nearly shrieking, “you pervert! i’m not going in there with you! i’m going to go sightseeing.” 
gojo looks at you like you’ve sprouted two heads.
“... then what’s the point of the onsen?” he looked at you incredulously. it deeply troubled you that someone so conniving could look so innocent.
your response is caught in your throat, leaving you flustered and unable to make eye contact. arms remained crossed, you mutter, “you’re insane if you think i’m stepping foot in an onsen with you.”
gojo’s tongue prodded at his cheek, lost in thought, “they do say you have to be insane to be a jujutsu sorcerer." he looks at you all enthused, "don’t be shy now, we’ve already slept together after all.” there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.
“we slept in the same bed– not together! don’t you go spreading that around now,” you jump to cup a hand over his mouth. you feel him grin underneath the palm of your hand.
“same thwing,” gojo’s voice is muffled, but he doesn’t bother taking your soft hand off his face. 
“it is not,” you furrow your eyebrows. 
“it can be.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a boyish smile growing.
you remove your hand from his face, “have you no shame?” 
“not a shred,” he declares cheerfully. “come on, we’re wasting precious time standing here. i can feel the steaming water calling our names.” 
“i’ve told you already, gojo. i’m not going to a hot spring naked with you.” 
he waves his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to be naked, it’s not unheard of for people to go in with a towel.”
you sigh exasperatedly at his stubborn disposition, “it would still be highly inappropriate.”
“as inappropriate as cuddling with your classmate while he’s naked and unconscious?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. gojo was once again referring to the previous night’s moment of vulnerability.
you stiffen. 
“it was not like that and you know it. for all i know, you were the one cuddling me,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a huff.
 gojo raises his hands in defense, “how about we call it even and hop in the hot spring together as a compromise?”
“that doesn’t make any sense.”
“it makes perfect sense. just two classmates relieving the weight of the world off their shoulders.” 
you hate that he’s starting to convince you. 
the knowing smile creeping on gojo’s face signals that he’s sensed your weakening resolve. he decides to deal the finishing blow.
“this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. with busy lives like ours, who knows the next time we will be able to visit one of the world’s best hot springs?” he gestures dramatically. reluctantly, you start to give into his words.
“fine. but if i see you indecent, i will kill you.” you point a finger threateningly at gojo. 
he simply chuckles, “kinky.”
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operation satoru x [name]!!!!
gojosatowu attachment: 1 image
shoko.ieiri what the actual hell gojo.  i did not need to see a picture of you with nothing but a towel on. ts is disgusting.
getosugu where is [name]? i thought you guys were returning from your mission today.
gojosatowu heh the two of us are going to take a little dip in kyushu’s world famous onsens haha :3
shoko.ieiri WHAT
getosugu  you?? [name]?? onsen?? together?? gojo satoru explain hello?
shoko.ieiri where is [name] you dirty pervert  i swear i’ll murder you if you pull any dirty tricks answer now
gojosatowu gotta go! ive been dreaming of this day ><
shoko.ieiri  don’t you go ignoring us!!
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you’re already settled in the hot spring by the time gojo arrives. with a snug towel secured tightly around your body, you are submerged underwater from the chest down. the steam curls lazily into the air, casting a dreamlike haze around you.
“for someone that was excited about the onsen, you came awfully late,” you quipped at the snow-haired boy. his signature glasses are absent, allowing you complete access to his azure eyes. on the other hand, gojo is granted the opportunity of seeing you in all of your natural beauty.
gojo enters the steaming water just a couple of feet away from you, “had to calm myself before seeing you.” he sighs contentedly when the water envelopes him. it was true. his nerves were a lot calmer when he was fighting the grade one curse than the short walk from the changing room to the hot spring.
you can't help but roll your eyes at his obvious flirtation attempt, but you decide to let it slide.
the conversation lapses into silence, an awkward veil settling between you. you were starting to regret ever entertaining gojo’s invitation to the onsen. to escape the discomfort, you divert your gaze to the steam rising from the water's surface and the surrounding rocks. the trees around you start to look interesting as you focus on not letting you eyes stray on gojo’s solid buil—
breaking the silence, gojo interjects, "did ya think i looked cool taking down that curse?"
your eyes shift from the rocks to gojo’s face, “it was quite impressive how you were able to crush the curse with your infinity.” you have heard of stories of gojo’s strength, but seeing it with your very own eyes was truly incredible.
he preens under your praise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
"perhaps i deserve a reward," he suggests, his voice taking on a playful tone.
you entertain the idea, your curiosity piqued. "i suppose you do."
a deeper flush tinges gojo's cheeks, and he averts his gaze. without warning, he points at his cheek, anticipating something. you tilt your head, puzzled by his unspoken request. he keeps pointing to his cheek, poking it multiple times.
“…”
“give me a kiss!”
the water ripples with how fast you lean back, “huh? no way.”
undeterred, gojo shakes his head. "fine then. i guess i'll have to kiss you.”
your eyes widen as he leans closer, and you instinctively scoot away, surprised by his boldness. "what? no!"
“eh?! why not? i went total snowagumon on that curse!”
“that’s your job gojo,” you respond matter-of-factly. you’re a bit taken aback by his digimon reference. how dorky.
gojo clicks his tongue, feigning indignation as he looks away. “hmph. can’t even get appreciation for keeping the world in balance.” 
you let out a resigned sigh, realizing he's being dramatic again. it almost feels like dealing with a child. but you suppose you’ll play right into his hands this time– and this time only. he has worked hard on this mission, taking on all the work while you watch idly from the sidelines.
hesitantly, you inch closer towards his frame. the distance closes as you lean towards his face. it was only a split second, but your lips placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. 
you watch what once was a pink blush blossomed into something deeper. gojo sits up a little straighter and you notice how the corner of his lips are slightly upward.
“gojo, are you oka–” 
“satoru. call me satoru,” he interjected, sounding breathless, his eyes locking on yours. 
you look at him, uncertain. “isn’t that a bit too informal? we’ve only known each other for a couple of months.”
“if it was up to me, we’d be married by now,” satoru closes his eyes nonchalantly, sinking deeply into the water until half of his face is under. he blows a series of bubbles. he really was a child.
your laughter rings out melodiously as you throw your head back, finding his remark utterly amusing.  “you’re actually ridiculous.” 
satoru watches you with a soft smile, his heart feeling lighter. it was criminal how cute you were. if this was his reward for exorcizing a measly grade one curse, he was willing to wipe out all special grades on the earth just to receive your praise again. maybe next time you'll even kiss him on the lips (he'll die a happy man if that happens).
"i am, aren't i?" he muses, basking in the joy of the moment.
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extra notes. i lowk hate this but due to popular demand i had to write it. ps i dont even know anything abt digimon i js know gojo likes it gn (forgive me if my digimon reference was totally wrong)
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shotmrmiller · 3 days
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need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.
you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.
you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.
"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."
he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.
you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.
"what's wrong with it?"
if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."
your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-
"keys."
right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"
you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.
"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."
he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.
your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."
"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."
the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."
your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"
he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"
embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.
"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.
he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."
eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.
he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.
he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.
you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.
"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."
grrrreat.
(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)
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agent-450 · 2 years
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skz317cb97 · 1 year
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Beach Bum
Felix x Thick female reader
Word count: 7.6K
Synopsis: You tag along on spring break to visit your best friend's brother in Australia. A wardrobe issue forces you out of your comfort zone and into your worst nightmare
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A/N: 18+ ONLY! This one is a little tamer than my last fee but I hope you all enjoy it! If you do give it a reblog, like, comment, hit my ask box I'm always up for some feedback! As always warnings and smut below the cut!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, mild violence (a punch), fat shaming (not Felix), oral (m&f receiving), cum shot, cum eating (only a little), protected piv sex, praise, body worship, pet names (angel, beautiful etc), guided masterbation (kinda), marking. I think that's everything. This one is tamer than the last few. If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it asap!
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When your best friend Rosa found out you had made no plans for spring break, she insisted on you tagging along on her trip to Australia instead of you barricading yourself in your room for seven days. She was going to visit her brother Felix who you had met loads of times. Whenever he was in town he’d mention getting a room and Rosa would argue, telling him that he just needed to crash with you all instead of wasting money on a hotel, understandably so. Naturally when you both were going for a visit back home he insisted upon the same thing. 
“Don’t you dare get a hotel when you get here. There’s plenty of room in my apartment.”  
“Are you sure? y/n is with me, it’s not too much?” Felix laughed sweetly  
“Of course not! I love y/n! She’s more than welcome to stay at mine as well.” Rosa was on the phone with Felix as you drove to the airport. You started blushing when you happened to hear him over the phone. You were possibly the biggest cliche walking on earth, a crush on your best friend’s brother.  
One of the times he was crashing with you and Rosa you’d ran into him coming from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, wet hair, skin flushed, beads of water rolling down his thin but muscular frame. You quickly apologized and fled, putting your shoes on and leaving the apartment entirely to get a hold of yourself. Felix thought it was so cute how you dashed away. It just wasn’t fair. He was sweet and funny and looked like that. Freckled face, perfect smile, big brown eyes and then his voice! Felix was the whole package and entirely out of your league. What you didn’t know was that Felix was just as big of a cliché as you. He was entirely smitten by you. You were funny and smart and pretty, you checked all the boxes for Felix but he didn’t want to be that guy, hitting on his sister’s best friend. You heard Rosa groan at her brother. 
“Gahhokay okay Lix we’re crashing with you no need threaten me with mom. We’re at the airport now I’ll call you when wheels are down. Love you too. Bye.” Your friend hung up with her brother as you pulled into the long term parking lot. You took a big nervous sigh. You weren’t good with planes, you weren’t good with trips, and you had a flock of butterflies in your stomach thinking about spending the whole week at Felix’s place. Your friend could easily pick up on your nerves. 
“You’re more likely to get in a car wreck than a plane crash.” She tried to reassure you. You scoffed. 
“Lot of good that helps, I’ve never been in a wreck.” Rosa opened her door getting out and bending down looking into the car at you. 
“Excuse but I remember your last ex... if that wasn’t a wreck...” 
“YAH! Bitch! That’s it I’m not going! Have fun byyyye...” She laughed. 
“Get out of the car and get your ass in that airport.” Rosa shut her door as you got out laughing and grabbed your bag. 
“Ooo love it when you go all dom on me like that.” You blew her a kiss and winked and you both laughed harder, heading towards the airport with your bags in tow, ready for your break from school. Checking your bags and getting through security were as easy as expected, which was not at all, but you managed to make your flight still. To say that you were a nervous flyer would be an understatement. Typically you would drug yourself fall asleep and wake up at your destination but your flight to Australia wouldn’t take long so there was no knocking yourself out.  
As promised as soon as the wheels hit the ground in Sydney, Rosa texted Felix telling him you had arrived. He replied back saying that he was already at the airport waiting to pick you both up. You had done an amazing job pretending like you weren’t having the worst panic attack of your life on the plane. Once you were on the ground and got done unboarding it all started to catch up with you. You and Rosa got your bags and she started scanning the crowd for her big brother. You were starting to feel clammy and then Rosa spotted Felix. 
“Ooo there he is!” She started waving at him as you both walked towards him. Just as you got up to him you could feel the blood leaving your face. 
“Whoa, y/n are you okay you look a litt-” Before Felix could finish his sentence your vision went blurry and then you were out. 
“y/n!” Rosa called out worried. 
“Oh shit!” Felix lunged and helped you to the ground softly instead of falling like a sack of potatoes. Felix told Rosa to run and get you some water while he tried to get you to come back around. 
“y/n-ie? Come on... can you hear me? Wake up sweetie.” You let out a soft groan as the lights came back on one by one. 
“There you go. There you go.” You opened your eyes and found Felix’s beautiful face staring down at you. You jumped and scrambled to sit up out of his lap and he shushed you and eased you back. 
“Whoa whoa whoa slow down, just lay back. You fainted, Rosa’s grabbing some water just... take it easy. I’ve got you.” Your face started to burn, he smiled, and you relaxed. Rosa was back with a bottle of water quickly. 
“Here babe drink this.” She handed you the bottle. Felix helped you sit up, you opened the water and took a sip. 
“Are you okay?” You nodded taking another sip of the water. 
“Yea yea I’m fine.” She looked at you unconvinced. You shook your head as you went to stand up, Felix holding your hand and arm helping. 
“Really Rosie I’m okay, I promise.” She accepted your promise with the use of the nickname and you both grabbed your luggage. Felix quickly reached to grab yours. 
“I’ve got this.” You shook your head. 
“Oh Lix you don’t have to I can carry it.” He gave you that warm sunny smile. 
“It’s no trouble really.” You allowed him to take the bag and he then led you both to his car. Your friend Rosa was very type A so the whole trip was planned and had an itinerary. Museums, shows, spa, and of course the beach. The day you arrived you just relaxed after the flight, too tired to do anything other than vegging out on the couch with Felix. As soon as the sun was high in the sky the next day, Rosa started whining to Felix about taking you all to the beach. 
“PPppleeeaaaasssseee. It’s so pretty today its perfect for the beach!” He was trying to talk her out of it. It was mid-day, on a Saturday, during spring break, the beach would be crazy. When you heard her pleading you ran into the kitchen to assist. 
“It really is Lixie come on pleaaaase?!” You leaned over the counter across from him begging and Felix could see down your shirt. He tried not to but your breasts were so big and looked so soft and you weren’t wearing a bra-. 
“Lix?” He snapped out of it and looked at you hoping you couldn’t tell he was blushing. 
“Will you?” He raised his eyebrows. 
“Hmm?”  
“Take us to the beach?” That’s right his brain was catching up again. 
“OH! Uh... yea sure of course.” You and Rosa both squealed with excitement. You gave Felix a hug and he tried to think pure thoughts when your soft body hugged his, your breasts covered only by a shirt pressed against his chest. 
“We’ll go get ready!” Rosa said dashing off quickly. You ran off quickly behind her. You drug out your suitcase and started going through it. You had packed two bathing suits for the trip, a modest one piece with a ruffled skirt attached for the beach and a bikini that you only planned on wearing under a robe at the spa you and Rosa had booked. You shuffled through your luggage looking for the one piece, not finding it anywhere. 
“No. No. Nonononono FUCK! It has to be in here!” You dumped the whole suitcase and tossed articles of clothing everywhere. Felix was walking by and heard cussing, he ducked his head into your room and clothes flew by. 
“Uhh... y/n? Everything okay?” You jumped and squeaked as you turned and saw Felix standing in your doorway.  
“Sorry didn’t mean to startle you. Everything alright? I heard swearing and...” You nodded quickly. 
“Oh yea Felix everything’s good I was just looking for my bathing suit.” He took a step in. 
“Oh! Do you need help?” You stopped him stammering. 
“Uh no! No I found it! All good!” He smiled and back out again. 
“Okay good! We’ll leave for the beach in ten, okay?” You smiled, nodding. When Felix closed the door you started rifling through the clothes again. There was the bikini now where was that god damn one piece. Then you remembered. You switched bags. You had made sure to pack the one-piece in the first suitcase but then you switched the night before to a slightly bigger one in case you bought souvenirs in Australia. You had set the one piece aside and you told yourself not to forget it, but you needed to get to bed and you were in a hurry and clearly you had forgotten it. What the hell were you going to do you thought to yourself. You couldn’t bail, you and Rosa had just begged Felix to take you, you both had just been going on about how excited you were to go.  You sighed heavily looking at the bikini. 
“Fuck!” You threw the two pieces of lycra on and looked in the mirror. You couldn’t be more screwed. This was meant to be worn under a robe for no one’s eyes to see. Not at a beach full of people, not in front of Felix. Two thin straps tied at the neck and around the back of the top, the small triangular pieces of fabric attempted to cover your large breasts and did so poorly. While the top was skimpy it was the bottoms you were really concerned about. You turned looking at your ass. Two more little strings tied each side of the bottoms around your wide hips and led back to a thong, the tiniest piece of fabric that your juicy ass cheeks ate entirely. Definitely screwed. You grabbed a big hoodie and some shorts and put them on over what little bathing suit you had on, grabbed your towel then headed out with Rosa and Felix to the beach. You were just pulling up when Felix hit a bump and the slushy Rosa had to get at the convenient store got spilled on your lap. 
“Shit!” Rosa apologized. 
“Oh babe I’m so sorry! Leave your shorts in the car and I’ll wash them as soon as we get back to Lix’s.” You started to flush. 
“You mean take them off?” Rosa giggled a little as she and Felix started getting out of the car. 
“Well you’re not staying in the car with them so that would be the best option.” You got out of the car, stood behind your door then quickly dropped your shorts and wrapped your big beach towel around you. 
“Race you to the sand!” Rosa took off and Felix started to but then noticed you were just walking behind. He slowed down to let you catch up.  
“It’s so warm today, aren’t you burning up in that hoodie?” You absolutely were but there was no way you were taking it off. 
“No I’m fine.” Felix nodded and didn’t push the subject; he knew you were a little self-conscious about your body even though he thought it was perfect. You all got to the sand and tossed your stuff down.  Felix spread out the beach blanket and set up the umbrellas. You sat down under one and pulled out a book. Rosa looked at you incredulously. 
“Really?” You scrunched your face at her. 
“You know very well I'm a ‘read at the beach’ person not a ‘frolic in the water’ beach person. Go on you and Lix go be water babies and frolic. I’ll be fine here.” Your friend leaned down and kissed your forehead. 
“Love you mooooom!” She shouted as she ran off towards the water. You shook your head as you and Felix laughed. 
“You sure you don’t want to come?” His cheeks were already turning pink from the sun and his freckles became more prominent. You shook your head. 
“Maybe later Lix, thanks.” He smiled and it was brighter than the sun, then he ran off to attack his sister in the water. You laid back and relaxed reading your book. After a while even in the shade of the umbrella you started to get hot. The umbrellas gave you a good deal of coverage. You took the hoodie off and wrapped your towel around your chest and relaxed back again. You closed your eyes, not to sleep just to rest them you told yourself as you dozed off. Cool drops of water were what woke you. They felt soothing on your warm skin. 
“Are the kids having fun?” You asked assuming it was Rosa standing close enough to drip on you. 
“Yes angel” You jumped and Felix giggled a little. You opened your eyes to see that he was standing over you drinking some water.  
“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb your beach nap.” You shook your head sitting up and when you did your towel came undone from around the top of you and suddenly everything from the waist up was on display. Felix choked on his water and almost spit it out. You were some type of goddess he was convinced. Suddenly you heard a wolf whistle and saw Rosa walking up to get a drink as well. 
“Hot momma!” She called out. 
“Can you stop calling me mom, I’m starting to think you have a kink.” Felix laughed and Rosa feigned laughing along. 
“Oh hahaha, give me a bottle of water while you’re sitting there giving away Victoria’s secret.” You rolled your eyes and tossed her a bottle while you half assed covered back up. At that point what did the top matter. As long as you didn’t have to ditch the towel on the bottom you were fine you could handle it. 
“Come on mo-othman...”  
“Good save Rosa...” Felix nudged his sister. 
“Shut up! Let's get in the water again, you too biatch!” She grabbed your hand playfully pulling as you shook your head no. 
“No Rosa I... I can’t it’s okay go without me.” Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. 
“You know you’re stubborn as hell right?” You smiled nodding. 
“You always say it’s a good thing and that you love me.” Rosa shook her head.  
“No sweetie I always tell you that you’re stubborn as hell and it’s a good thing that I love you.” She kissed your forehead again and ran off to the water. Felix was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. 
“Oh sush.” You told him. His laughter died down and he knelt down sitting on his knees by you. 
“Why won’t you come in the water, are you scared of sharks? Cause they have spotters and it’s been years sin-”  
“It’s not sharks that I’m scared of Lixie.” He looked at you sweetly and waited for you to elaborate. You took a deep breath you could hardly stand the way his soft eyes were fixated on you. 
“I... this isn’t my usual bathing suit and the bottoms well... there’s not much bottoms...” Felix attempted to keep his brain from short circuiting with that information. 
“I’m scared someone will stare or say something... because... you know... I’m... big.” Felix’s voice came out softly. 
“Ohhh, y/n... no. You... I mean... well... I think you look amazing in your swimsuit. It looks really good on you.” You started blushing.  
“If you want we can walk out to the water together, once you’re in the water no one will see anything. It feels really good and you can’t go to the beach and not get in the water.” Felix made it sound so easy and saying that he thought you looked good in your bikini made you feel a little more confident. If Felix thought you looked good it couldn’t be that bad. You stood up and let the towel fall down. You were still pretty much blocked from the strangers on the beach but Felix could see everything and loved it. Every roll and curve of your full body made his heart race. He prayed to god he didn’t get a boner because there would be no hiding it in his trunks. You stood there a little unsure still. 
“Are you sure this looks okay Lix?” He stammered and caught himself. 
“Y-y-yeah! Absolutely you look great!” A shy smile crept onto your face. Felix thread his fingers through yours and you both started towards the water. As soon as Rosa saw you both walking out she started walking up on the sand towards you to meet you halfway. 
“Hey! What the fuck! How did you get her to act like a real hum-” 
“Moooooooo!” You heard it. Felix heard it. Rosa heard it. Everyone in a mile radius heard it. You all turned and standing not too far from you was a frat bro, obviously drunk, and a few of his buddies. When you looked at him he repeated. 
“Moooooo!” The one thing you had hoped wouldn’t happen, the reason you never dressed that way, your worst nightmare was coming true on a beach in front of Felix. The frat jerk laughed and continued on. 
“Oink oink!” You choked out a sob and ran for the beach blanket grabbing your things quickly. The drunk asshole taunting you as you ran away. 
“Oink oink oi-” The drunk dick head was silenced when Rosa stormed up and punched his lights out. He hit the deck and of course, with it being spring break, beach patrol was right there to see it. They started to escort Rosa away for detainment while the frat bros friends tried to help him walk up right but ended up dragging him away more or less. As Rosa was walking off with beach patrol she hollered back to Felix.  
“Lix! Go find y/n! Make sure she’s okay!” He threw his hands up. 
“What about you?!” She waved him off. 
“I’ll be fine get y/n!” Beach patrol cuffed Rosa and braced her head as they put her in the back of a cruiser and took off. Felix quickly grabbed the blanket and umbrellas then ran off to find you. He was relieved to find you sitting by the car, having nowhere else to really go.  Your hoodie was back on, towel around you. You had your knees pulled up and your face was buried in your arms as you cried absolutely humiliated. 
“y/n...” You sniffled and looked up at Felix then started crying again. Felix crouched down and hugged you. After a minute you calmed down and Felix unlocked the car tossing the stuff inside quickly then helping you up and into the car, still sniffing and wiping your face with your towel. Felix started the car and took off quietly giving you some time. He could only imagine how hurt you were, the hurt he felt for you was unbearable and he felt so guilty. He had reassured you that you looked amazing, you did. That asshole didn’t deserve to lick the sand off your toes, you were an absolute angel, a goddess of beauty. After a moment of silence in the car you realized there were two instead of three people in the vehicle. 
“Where’s Rosa?” You asked in a small voice. Felix glanced between you and the road quickly. 
“Oh... uh... well... she got arrested.” Suddenly your problem seemed trivial. 
“W-WHAT?! HOW!?”  
“Well she sort of decked that asshole, knocked him out cold actually, then beach patrol drug her off. It’s spring break, they’re used to fights. They’ll keep her overnight in the drunk tank and let her go in the morning with a ticket. It’s not the first time she’s visited that drunk tank for fighting on the beach so don’t worry about her okay?” You nodded, a little half smile on your face at the idea of Rosa punching that dick head. Felix made a turn in the opposite direction of his place and you were confused. 
“Isn’t your apartment back that way?” He smiled nodding, eyes on the road. 
“It is. We’re not going to my apartment though.”  
“Uh... w-where are we going?” He made another turn. 
“I told you that you can’t go to the beach and not get into the water...” You started shaking your head no. You could not have a repeat of what just happened. 
“No Lix let’s jus-” 
“It’s okay, it’s my secret spot. My own personal beach. I’ve gone there for years and never seen someone else there. Trust me okay?” Your heart was racing with anxiety but you nodded agreeing. Felix pulled off onto the shoulder into some gravel, parked and turned off the car. 
“We’re here.” It didn’t look like a beach was anywhere near there. Felix got out and opened your door helping you out then grabbing the beach blanket and heading for the tree line. 
“Uh Lixie... where’s the beach?” He laughed deeply. 
“Follow me.” He started to make his way through some brush and you quickly followed before you were left behind. When you made your way through the brush line you found Felix waiting on a path. 
“Come on it’s just a little further this way.” You could hear the ocean now, you were surprised how much the tree line blocked it out. You followed Felix up the path and then you came out on a beautiful little beach. White sand, clear water, and not another singles soul in sight. 
“Oh my god Felix! This place is beautiful!” He smiled ear to ear then ran onto the beach and spread out the blanket falling back and landing on his ass. You walked over and knelt down on the blanket too still in your hoodie, wrapped in your towel. 
“It’s okay y/n. You can relax.” You sat down, stretching your legs out and resting back on your hands. Felix shook his head. 
“I mean it’s okay for you to ditch the hoodie and towel.” You sat up again.  
“Oh! Well... I...” Felix’s hand came up and rubbed your back. 
“I think you look amazing in your bathing suit and it’s only me and you. Trust me?” You looked at him and nodded. You took the hoodie off first tossing it away on the blanket then removing the towel that you had wrapped around your waist. Felix’s eyes ran up and down your body. 
“Lixie?” His lustful gaze turned soft when he realized he’d been staring. 
“Uh... yea... okay! Now let’s get in that water!” Felix jumped up and ran for the ocean. You stood, laughing and made your way down to the shoreline stopping before actually getting in. Felix was already out to his waist in the water, he slapped a big splash of water at you and you were sprayed with cool drops. 
“Get in already!” He called after you. You rolled your eyes but you were laughing. He was happy to see you smiling. 
“I’m convinced every time you get into the ocean you regress to a twelve-year-old.” He laughed and splashed you again. 
“Get! In!” Slash, splash, splash. 
“Okay okay I’m coming stop drowning me!” Felix relented and you waded out into the ocean until you were also waist deep. He was standing in front of you with his smile brighter than the sun reflecting off the water. 
“See? Nice isn’t it?” You hummed nodding running your hands gently through the water. Looking down and seeing all the little fish swimming around the two of you. Felix was staring again this time at your beautiful face while you watched in amazement. The two of you waded out a little further and it seemed like the deeper you got the closer Felix was to you. You jumped when his hand found your waist thinking a fish brushed against you, then you realized it was Felix’s hand, then his arm was around you, then both, your soft wet body squishing against his firm bare chest. Both of you warm and sun kissed. You let out a shudder of a breath. 
“You cold?” He asked in that deep voice, pressing your bodies together closer. You shook your head no. 
“N-no...” He was looking deep into your eyes shaking his head no along with you. His face was leaning in closer and closer. Suddenly a big wave came and crashed into the two of you knocking you under water, sending you spinning. When you resurfaced you spotted Felix frantically looking around for you. When he spun and saw you his hand went to his heart and he let out a sigh of relief. You both made your way out of the water and to the blanket to catch your breath and lay out to dry. Whatever moment had been happening before, the wave ruined and was forgotten. After laying there for a minute you opened your eyes and looked over at Felix. He was laying on his back, eyes closed, little content smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks were starting to turn a little red from the sun and you could count each individual freckle on his face. His blonde hair getting fluffier as it dried. 
“Thanks Felix.” He scrunched his eyes and turned his head to look over at you. His eyes met with yours and he sat up on his elbow so he could look down at you better. 
“For what?” You looked up at him and he didn’t think you could be more beautiful. Sunkissed, sea salt soaked hair starting to dry, just beautiful. 
“For bringing me here... for telling me you think I’m pretty...” Felix shook his head and leaned over you, propped up by his arms, one on each side of your head caging you in under him. You were caught off guard, you looked at the two arms boxing you in then back into Felix’s eyes. 
“I don’t think your pretty y/n.... I know you are.” He leaned down and pressed his lips softly against yours then pulled back, looking down at you, gauging your reaction. You touched your lips smiling. 
“Lixi-” He leaned down again and captured your lips between his, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands slid up Felix’s shoulders and neck, your fingers threading through the long hair at his nape. Your lips parted and Felix took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You made out like that for a while Felix getting bold and squeezing your breasts over your bikini top, making you moan into his kiss. His lips peppered down your neck and chest. 
“Lix...” He hummed acknowledging you. 
“Hmm...” More kisses, teeth gently scraping. 
“Lix...” He nodded. 
“MMhm...” You giggled pushing at his chest a little in vain. He was nibbling your neck his ear right by your lips. 
“Lixie... w-we... we can’t do this h-here.” You whispered your voice breathy. Felix stopped and pulled away quickly. 
“W-we... we can’t do what?” You looked at him sheepishly biting your kiss swollen lips worried you’d assumed too much. 
“Well... you know. We can’t... I can’t...” You looked down at the painfully obvious erection Felix was sporting in his trunks.  
“I can’t... take care of you.” You said sweetly. 
“Y-you want to?” He asked surprised. You pulled him down on you again and kissed him, then pulled away nodding, your teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip. 
“Yes.” You said quietly. Felix brushed a little sand off your face and nodded. He got off you and stood up then helped you and rolled up the blanket again. He led you down the trail and through the brush again. When the two of you got into the car the sexual tension was thick. The whole way back to Felix’s apartment his hand was on your leg, fingers gently tracing, sliding higher then squeezing and tracing back down. You had been completely dried off from the ocean but your bathing suit bottoms were most definitely wet. When you got to Felix’s place, he unlocked the door and let you in first. You tried to just... act natural. 
“So did yo-” When you turned to speak to Felix cupped your face and kissed you. You felt like you were still standing on the beach you were so warm all over. He pulled back smiling.  
“We should probably shower the beach off.” You nodded, speechless. Felix thread his fingers through yours again like he had at the beach and started to lead you towards the bathroom. 
“Will you shower with me?” He asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze when you didn’t respond. You couldn’t help it. You were half in shock. You never thought you would have found yourself in a senario where Felix and you even kissed let alone have sex. 
“y/n? You okay?” You snapped out of it.  
“Yea! Yes I’m fine.” He stopped just outside the bathroom and leaned in to kiss you again. 
“Will you?” You chewed at your bottom lip again and nodded. 
“Yes.” Felix walked into the bathroom and held the door open. You walked in and stood there nervously as he shut the door and turned back to you. You were never good at hiding your nerves and Felix could tell. 
“y/n?” You looked at him a little wide eyed. 
“I-if you don’t wan-” 
“I DO! I do Felix I'm just... nervous. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. 
“What are you nervous about angel? Maybe I can help.” You hesitated, unsure of how to put into words what you were feeling. 
“You... seeing me.” Felix was looking at you with that soft expression again. 
“Angel... I’ve always seen you. I’m crazy about you y/n. Always have been.” Your jaw dropped.  
“What?!” He nodded and pecked your lips. 
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?!”  
“Because you’re GORGEOUS and I didn’t know for sure if you had any feelings for me and I didn’t want to make things weird, you’re my sister’s best friend.” He was looking down and not in your eyes now. 
“I do.” You said quietly. He looked at you again. 
“You do what?” He knew he just needed to hear you say it. 
“I... I’m in love with you Felix.” You said with a shaky voice. Felix kissed you breathless, holding your soft body against him. He pulled away panting. 
“I love you y/n I love you so much.” You pulled him into another passionate kiss. Felix’s hands traveled up your back and pulled at the first string of your top, untying, and loosening it. He kissed down your neck as he tugged at the other string, pulling it slowly until your top fell to the ground. Instinctively you went to cover up but Felix stopped you. 
“Please, don’t.” You put your arms back down around Felix and he started to pull at both strings of your bottoms. He kissed you and completely untied them at the same time. His tongue softly intruding into your mouth and the fabric hit the floor. Felix’s hands never stayed in one place very long, he wanted to feel everything. When he finally pulled his lips away so that you could both shower and breathe he raised his brow a little, a mischievous smile you usually only saw when he was up to something.  
“Do you want to take mine off me?” You flushed but knelt down grabbing the waist band of his swim trunks and pulling down until his cock was free right in front of your face. It was hard a bead of precum on the tip. You resisted the urge to grab it and stood back up as Felix stepped out of his shorts and turned on the shower. He opened the shower curtain. 
“After you.” You laughed and got in, Felix right behind you. He lathered up some bodywash in his hands. 
“Can I wash you?” You nodded. 
“Yes Lixie.” He bit his lip. 
“I really love it when you call me that.” You smiled. Felix spun his finger around for you to turn your back to him. You turned and Felix started to run his hands along your shoulders and back not only washing you but squeezing and rubbing your shoulders and neck. Between the hot water and Felix’s hands you were so relaxed so you jumped when his arms wrapped around you and he started to rub soap on your breasts. When you jumped you pressed into Felix more and you could feel his erection poking you. He acted as if nothing was happening between your bodies and continued to rub his soapy hands all over you.  
He turned you and pulled your hips close his hard cock still prodding you and Felix gripping your ass then rubbing it. He looked you right in the eyes and Felix’s had something in them you’d never seen. Pure lust. His hands ran down your thighs and he started to kneel in front of you, face to face with your cunt. He continued rubbing the soap over your thighs and down your legs, saving the best part for last. He finally ran his hand over your pussy washing you and you throbbed when his hands moved away. Felix pulled your hips forward and water ran down your body washing the suds away. Suddenly Felix’s face was between your legs and he was finally tasting your sweet cunt. You jumped and he put his arms around your legs and held you close as he continued to savor you, slow long licks of his tongue through your slit. 
“F-Felix...” He spread your pussy open and started sucking on your clit, he hummed.” 
“Hmhm” Was all you heard but what you felt when he hummed against your throbbing clit like that it was divine. 
“F-F-Felix!” He sucked and hummed is disapproval again sending more vibrations rumbling through your cunt and then you realized. 
“Lixie!” He was an absolute starved man. He loved when you called him that. He ate your pussy like it was his job. As far as he was concerned it was. You soared into your orgasm, coming on Felix’s tongue, holding yourself up as your knees went weak. He stood up wiping your juices with the back of his hand then kissed you. His hands roaming your full figure again. You pulled away and stopped him with one finger up. 
“It’s time to clean Lixie too.” Felix’s cock twitched. 
“Okay angel...” He ran his fingers down your cheek. 
“Will you wash me?” You nodded eagerly and grabbed the body wash. You gave Felix the same treatment he’d just given you, massaging his shoulders, soaping his chest and kneeling down to do his legs, his hard leaking cock right in front of you. You took both your soapy hands and grabbed it slowly jerking him off. Felix whimpered, he’d been hard for so long and the feeling of your soapy hands sliding up and down his cock was almost more than he could take. One hand traveled down and fondled his balls as you continued to stroke his cock with the other. He thought he was about to cum but then you removed your hands giving him a little taste of his own medicine. He looked down pouting. You put your hands on his hips and moved him under the stream of water, washing the suds of soap from his body. When Felix was clean you grabbed his dick and started sucking on the tip. 
“F-fuck oh y/n god.” He wasn’t expecting it but he wasn’t complaining either. Your mouth felt amazing wrapped around his aching cock. You took more of him and hummed. 
“Hmhm.” You started sliding up and down his shaft. 
“Y/N! Fuck!” You took a bit more of him and hummed again and then he realized what you wanted. 
“Angel! Your mouth feels so good!” You started deep throating him gagging, Felix gently held your head as you suck the life from him. 
“I’m gonna cum angel fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pulled off and stroked his cock. 
“Where Lixie? Hmm?” A hundred ways and places to cum on you ran through his mind he didn’t know what to pick. He looked down as you stroked his cock fast and saw your huge breasts bouncing with every stroke and he moaned. 
“Tits wanna cum on your tits please!” You stroked him and kitten licked the tip of his cock pressing the base of his tip against your puckered lips and rubbed it against them as you continued jacking him off. He let out a soft moan and you aimed his dick at your tits just as the first streak of cum shot across them. You stroked him as his cum covered your tits and started to drip down your body. 
“F-fuck...” Felix was panting. 
“F-feels so g-good angel... keep stroking get it all.” You did as he asked and wiped the last drop of cum off on your chest. Felix looked down at you, he was red and out of breath. You had big doe eyes and wore his cum all over your breasts. He helped you up, cupped your face and kissed you, then washed your chest off one more time before you both got out of the shower. You dried off and you went to go into the room that you were using for the trip. Felix grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards his room. 
“Absolutely not.” You giggled as you followed the towel clad man to his room. He led you in and towards his bed. 
“There. That’s where you belong angel. In my bed.” You laughed and finished drying your hair tossing the towel in a near by hamper. Felix closed the space between you. He ran his hands down your arms and grabbed your hands. He squeezed them and leaned in kissing you. He let go to hold you by your wide hips and your arms wrapped around his shoulders your fingers threading through his hair. You pulled away to get air, your foreheads pressed together, both of you blushing, breathing heavy. One of Felix’s hands came up and two fingers slid into the tie of your towel loosening it and allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you soft and naked in front of him. He squeezed his cock over his towel already so hard again then pulled his towel off tossing it aside. He cupped your face with both hands and pressed his lips softly against yours and then whispered. 
“Can I have you?” Your heart was racing a million miles a minute. You looked into his eyes, bit your lip and nodded. 
“Tell me angel. Tell me you want me.” You kissed him gently, once, twice, three times. 
“Felix, take me, I’m yours.” He kissed you and leaned you back onto the bed, climbing between your legs. He leaned over to his nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it down his length. You spread your thick thighs wider for him. 
“Lixie...” You said in a sweet voice. He lined up his cock with your wet hole. 
“I’ve got you angel don’t worry.” He slowly pushed in and you both relished every inch of him sliding into you. Felix had the sexiest moans and when he bottomed out he let out a grunt and a big breath. 
“God! You’re so tight, so soft. Feel so good, I always knew you would you’re a fucking goddess, this body... fuck do you know what you do to me?!” Feeling you squeeze him was unreal. He started to set a rhythm pumping into you, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Felix leaned down and started sucking on one of your nipples still rolling his hips into your plump cunt. 
“Oh my god Lixie MMMmm tell me! Tell me what I do to you!” You ran your fingers through his hair and held on as he sucked a mark on the side of your breast and pulled off.  
“Angel I’ll tell you, goddess, fucking beautiful being, every inch of your body is worth tasting and sipping on your sweet pussy is like tasting nectar from the gods. I can not believe I get to have you, fuck you.” Hips started thrusting into yours harder. 
“Yes Lix right there oh my god!” Felix gave it to you right there, over and over pushing you towards your second orgasm. 
“Is it right there angel hmmm? Is that where you want it?” You nodded. 
“Y-y-yes Lixie mmm harder.” He held your hips and fucked you harder until your cunt turned into a vice grip squeezing him, quivering and twitching as you came on his cock. 
“FUCK! HOLY Sh- that... mmmm.” He started to fuck you faster chasing his high and prolonging yours. He held your tits with both hands as he rolled his hips and thrusted into you fast and hard. 
“Can I cum on your tummy angel, god I wanna blow all over your cute belly. Please?” Words were not easy as Felix fucked you into oblivion. 
“Y-yes Lixie c-cum... cum...” You were softly rubbing your clit still riding the buzz of your climax. When Felix looked down and saw you pleasuring yourself he loved it he thought you made the prettiest face when you came. 
“That’s it baby work yourself up, cum with me. Play with it.” You started fingering yourself faster pressing two fingers firmly against your clit. 
“Yes rub it faster... FUCK I’m gonna cum so hard... you gonna cum with me angel right?” You bit your lip and rubbed your clit faster nodding. 
“Gonna... gonna cum Lix...mmmm yes!” He hummed his satisfaction. 
“Hmmm fast and hard baby I’m gonna cum!” You rubbed your clit as fast as you could and started to cum moaning out Felix’s name. 
“FELIX FUCK!” He pulled out took off the condom and started stroking his cock and moaning. 
“Uhhhfuck!” Cum shot across your tummy streaking again and again Felix stroking fast as he unloaded all over your belly. He moved your hand and rubbed the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit causing you both to twitch and jump from overstimulation. You laid there a little fucked out, Felix crawled up next to you and ran his finger through his cum on your belly. 
“Wanna taste?” You sighed content and nodded. Felix stuck his finger in your mouth and you sucked the cum from it. 
“Mmmmm... Lixie...” Felix’s cock twitched. 
“Hmm we’ll take five, get my cum off you, and then I’m gonna bend you over and really fuck you angel again and again baby I’m fucking you all night.” Your pussy clenched and you pressed your legs together for a little friction. 
“Promise?”  Felix crawled between your legs, head hovering over your swollen cunt. He licked a fat stripe through your slit collecting your cum on his tongue and smiling when you jumped. 
“Oh I promise. To hell with five minutes. Lick that cum off while I eat you good angel. You’re gonna get this cock again.” And he did. Felix fucked you all night long. You lost count of the number of orgasms the man gave you. It made him so hard seeing you clench and ooze for him, he went wild making you cum. Finally when your bodies gave out on you, the both of you fell asleep tangled up in Felix’s bed. 
“WELL I’LL BE GOD DAMNED! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” You and Felix both jolted awake and upright gripping for blankets, sheets, anything to cover up with. There in Felix’s bedroom doorway, a tad more than shocked, was Rosa. You were so worried that she was pissed at you for sleeping with her brother, you felt so guilty. Felix started to explain. 
“Rosa look w-” 
“To think! I was rotting away in prison and you’re here boning my bestie?” When you heard the lilt to her voice you knew she wasn’t mad. You and Felix may have never told her but the girl is not dumb, she knows when she see two idiots in love. Felix rubbed the sleep out of his eyes more. You groaned and slumped back in bed still exhausted from the marathon of love making you and Felix had the night before. 
“One it was the drunk tank, two I called they wouldn’t let me bail you out. Also no one told you to go Mike Tyson on the guy.” Rosa scoffed as if she’d heard the most ridiculous thing. 
“You think I wasn’t knocking teeth for my bestie?! Do you even know me? Also keep it in mind cause it’s what I’ll do to you if you hurt her.” He threw up his hands. 
“What the fuck, I'm your brother!” She shook her head. 
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“Don’t remind me. Now both of you get some god damned pants on we have an itinerary to keep!” 
Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!
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gabessquishytum · 1 month
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Dream is famous; Hob is decidedly not. And really the press intrusion into their relationship has not died down at all.
Every time Hob tell Dream they have to talk, Dream is worried that this time the telephoto lense spying in while Hob is teaching, or the paparazzi following as Hob goes grocery shopping, or the drone that keeps trying to photograph their backyard, will be the last straw -- that Hob is breaking up with him.
They just recently had to hire more security for Hob as Dream's more aggressive "fans" have been making threats. It's so disruptive.
Dream hopes Hob school continues to support him through all the chaos, but maybe this is too much finally. So when Hob said they needed to talk this time, Dream was sure this was the end.
Aww, poor Dream! It's not his fault that all this stuff is happening! He doesn't realise that Hob honestly doesn't really mind. As long as he gets to be Dream’s boyfriend, he's happy with his life!!
And he actually wants to talk to Dream about something completely different! See, he's been teaching for a long time, and as much as he loves it he's kind of hankering to do something else. He'd really like to go back to school himself and finally get his phd! He always wanted to do it after his masters but it kinda got pushed to the side by needing to work, needing money. Now he's stable enough in life to finally do the research he's passionate about! It'll give the gossip columns something new to talk about, hah.
And there's something else that Hob wants to talk about too. With a new chapter opening in his life, he'd really like to talk to Dream about the next step in their relationship. He wouldn't want to just spring a proposal on Dream without discussing it first! So he'd like to now if Dream would consider marriage? Maybe moving in together? Hob knows that he's not exciting and doesn't have much to offer, but he's really hoping that his love will be enough.
Of course, Dream was expecting a breakup, so a preliminary proposal is definitely a BIG improvement. He's quick to say YES and also insist on the two of them moving in together, asap. He can't wait to support Hob as he starts his phd, it's so exciting!!
The press are of course like "DREAM'S GOLD DIGGER BOYFRIEND PURSUES USELESS DEGREE" and Hob has the articles framed for their hallway. He can't wait to propose to Dream properly. Maybe at his useless graduation???
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jd07201990 · 2 months
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One might think I went a little overboard when I used my talents, to give my old college buddy Charles Wentworth II, the son he'd always wanted. Life threw him a curveball when his little boy just, stayed little. It took only 8 months to change that.
At 19, he was almost fae. 5'4" 110lbs soaking wet, the 3rd Charles in the line was thin, lithe, soft-tempered and good mannered. Clean and neat, always top of his class, the boy was head of the Student Council in High School, when his Father hoped he'd have excelled in Football, the same as his old man.
Charles II knew I'd gone into psychiatry out of college, majoring in Behavioral Studies with a minor in biochemistry. He'd seen what I could do to a person with just 10 minutes of talking. Out like a light, I'd fill their heads with all sorts of triggers, innocent fun to make the guys in the dorms laugh.
But Charles II knew where my interests really were. Behavioral Modification. He'd only seen this one time during our school days, when I tranced Jimmy Palter, the school's most annoying nerd, and by graduation, he'd packed on 50lbs, mostly in his belly, dressed like a hick, and went off to drive Big-Rigs across the country, adding notches to his creaking belt as he screwed his way across country, bedding pretty Diner girls as he hauled goods for my Dad's transport company. Last I'd checked, he was still trucking, with a wife and 5 kids somewhere out west.
Anyway, the strapping young stud you see here, with absolutely no intelligent thought behind those handsome eyes, is Charles Wentworth III. Or, as he preffers now, Chett. Sometimes his football buddies call him Chetworth, but one headlock with their faces pressed to his sweaty pits is enough to stop even the strongest of them, at least for a while. He's an aggressive, hot-blooded powerhouse, and doesn't let anyone forget it.
It had only taken an hour to wriggle my influence into his good natured, innocent mind. His father had asked him to come see me, and an hour later, the boy was thrilled to have sessions with me every day for the foreseeable future. I'd given him a perscription for what he was convinced were vitamins, but were really prototype HGH and Testosterone boosters a friend at a Pharma-Lab in Serbia gives to, well, select clientelle, with the agreement that we send the results asap. Some of this stuff may as well be nuclear Hormone-bombs, its no wonder the FDA refuses to even look at it!
So, A month in, and the boy was a nervous wreck. Trembling with excess energy, his feet tapped anciously during the first sessions, the supplements and my trances sending his body into overdrive. He said he felt like he was on fire, all the time, hot and clammy, and that his body tingled, pent up, wound tight like a spring. I let him suffer with this for a few weeks, I watched as the confusion led to annoyance, and he finally came to my office in the middle of the day, skipping class for the first time in his life, asking me for help. I tried to hid the wicked smirk on my face, and really got down to it. It was easy to drop him down into trance, and from there, My work really began.
4 months in, Chett had gotten a bit of weight on him, his body now tight and toned, working out alone when the gym was empty. The supplements really kicked his body into overdrive, sweat poured from him, soaking his shirts and shorts. He'd complained about it for only a short time, until I convinced him that was the smell of Effort. Of athletic Prowess. Of well-worked Male. As usual, anything I said became the truth, and I soon found him taking sniffs of himself after working out, flexing absentmindedly as he noticed the changes to his body.
By the 6th month, the supplements had shot through his body, setting it into a second puberty of sorts. He grew taller, hitting 6', his legs long with a solid densness that rivaled some of the soccer players. His torso was like a marble statue, each muscle easily traced, as he had very little bodyfat. The Chett was stuffing himself with pritein and calories at my suggestion, really pushing for some size, but his pesky metabolism just wouldn't let him bulk. His father decided that, "Behemoth" as the original plan had intended, wasn't necessary, and we went with "Classic All American Boy" instead. What began as a shrimpy welp, turned into a marble stature, then the beginnings of a diamond-cut stud.
His shoulders widened, giving him that perfect masculine taper, while his face lost its boyish softness, replaced with sharper, more intensly sharp features. His size 7s grew quickly, his feet ruinding sneakers left and right, until he'd leveled off at a wide size 13. His chest began to grow a smattering of hair, his pits were thick, dense wiry bushes. He had that Pretty-Boy look. Fuzzy in all the right places. Sure, he reeked like a Varsity Locker room, but hey, Charles II wanted an athletic son, he knows from our own college days what that entials.
I could see the Sorority Girls and cheerleaders beginning to take notice, but for now, I'd kept Chett firmly away from women. That would come later. I recieved several new prototype supplements, each targeting a different system of the body. By the time he'd finished taking these, he was 6'2" 170, a tall, well built stallion, with nothing but the gym and my trances to quell the neverending storm of energy and hormones flooding his system. He was pent up, on edge, ready to go off anytime. And I knew just what I had to do.
I'd had him on edge for the last 8 monnths. his grades slipped until he nearly got ckicked from school. Luckily, I miraculously had a place for him on the Football team. And he eagerly joined, wanting nothing more than to try and burn off all the aggression on the field. He was a beast from his first practice, I'd programmed everything he'd ever need to know about the game into his mind for months. He absolutley plowed through opponents. It was incredible to see.
I finally let the damn break after a hard-fought summer Game. he'd performed just as I expected. Like a perfectly trained, expert player. Nobody would ever guess Chett had ever been a weedy little boy. Expecially not after I'd set him loose, allowing him to notice the girls all over the field, cheering and buoncing about from player to player. when Sandra Rinaldi, heir to an immense national Grocer's fortune slid up to him, pushing the sweaty hair from his eyes, he couldn't help it. One look at her, and he pounced, kissing her hard right there in the field. 8 months of hormones and denial had been released.
From what I learned through locker room talk in the days following, Chett had given Sandra quite the workout that night, and every day since. Although the two weren't exclusive, Chett tending to get his dick wet anytime, anywhere, with anyone just as programmed, Chett seemed to have a natural incling toward her, and ended up asking her to marry him just after graduation, his father thrilled at the possibility of grandkids and Sandra's inheritence bolstering their own family's fortune.
From tiny waif of a boy, to a true blue American Stud, Charles Wentworth III was now both satisfied and thrilled with his family's future. His strapping, handsome Jock of a son made him proud, cleaning up well for his father to parade him around Gala's and business events, other big-wigs taking notice of the Wentworth's "good genes", not knowing what it took to build the boy up as you see here.
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sugar-plum-writer · 3 months
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The Serene Peony Of Winter
Paring: Sukuna!King of Curses x Fem!Geisha Reader
Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, [I want to have a good build up!], an ancient Japan romance through time with darling reader~
[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]
New Chapter update!
@naoyagasm @janeaugustine
@teonawrites @periwinkless-universe
CHAPTER- 3
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1000 days, 1000 nights- but only 3 days of peace on a chilling winter night. Frozen houses, and frozen trees all soaked up the chilling breath of winter, letting it drown them in a sheet of white― pure and pristine, so pure and pristine that even the dead get company.
You had been able to bathe with hot water continually for 3 days, which is quite a luxury in the freezing winter. Rather than eating once in 3 days, you were able to eat every 2 days― gazing at the hot meal on your table as steam rose from a gift of satisfaction, into the surroundings.
"Ahahah! Y/n! You crazy girl!", Oka-San's laughter resounded in your room, as she sat wearing her new kimono, puffing her pipe
"To think you got him interested, did not die, is a miracle~ how many women can boast about it!", fanning her ōgi in front of her, sipping tea
"Do you know how much he gave?", A cheeky grin played in the reflection of her eyes― leaning in and took out a fat couple stack of Mon in front of you, "More is there but I have hidden it~ the sound of money is music to my ears!", she laughed tossing the coins in the air
"Muah! You are such a darling~"
"This meal, the hot water, this is the power of money Y/n this winter- won't be so cold", she hummed putting the stack of Mon back into her sleeves
"If we have leftover money, I will commission a new Hikizuri for you to wear this summer", finishing what she had to say she walked out after being called by one of the Maiko, silence filled the room
"But why?", gazing at your hands― and gently touching the small mark on your cheek which somehow was gone
"It's too noisy", picking up your chopsticks, and clasping your hands you prayed― grateful for the food and the hot bath due to your new patron, The King Of Curses, your new Danna. Sure a Geisha could have only one Danna at a time, but rules never applied to him anyways.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Holding your Wagasa to shield you from the cold, you walk with one of your patrons a sorcerer, wearing a light blue Hikizuri, and light-colored flower headpieces adorn your hair. With a light laugh, you walked down the courtyard.
"Oh my! it sounds delightful", batting your eyes as you smiled, "It is, if possible I would like- you to accompany me to my estate tonight", he gazed at your face
"I have people coming from the east prefecture, your dances are top-notch"
Politely without any reaction, "I must refuse, Danna-sama, forgive me― for my body is weak hence I need rest", bowed your head slightly and looked at him
"I see, maybe some other day then", he nodded, "But― be careful, word has been around", leaning in he whispered, "A strong curse has been around this area― some suspect him, to be the King of Curses", in a serious tone― eyebrows frowned
"If you get any information, regarding this, do tell me", he took out a pouch of Mon from his sleeve, which he kept in your hand
"Farewell, then Y/n, I will bring you your favorite Monaka, I know you have a sweet tooth. For now, I hope you like this gift", handing you a bira-bira featuring bells, long chains of additional silk flowers known as shidare, and a crest of the sorcerer stamped on the flattened end.
You smiled, "Then I will await your return Danna-sama, just like the cherry blossoms, waiting for spring"
"Can you wear it for me? After all I don't know if I will be dead or alive", he laughed
You looked at him, elegantly removing some hair accessories, pinning the bira-bira in your hair, and smiled. His breath hitched, and his body froze
"Beautiful, how can you be so beautiful... thank you Y/n", he smiled and bowed his head as he walked away waving
"I hope to see you alive…", you whispered, only the wind hearing your words, as it blew past
"He will die"
You froze, feeling a chilling presence behind you, you hesitantly turned around, feeling your throat dry up, and raised your head
"Quite a Lovey-dovey moment you had, how boring- don't think about him after all-", He laughed
"Sorcerers die, left and right, for a weakling like him to even reach so far- heh", the red eyes contrast with the white snow, that smirk plastered on his face, you knew it far too well
"Sukuna-sama", you bowed your head, and before you knew it, the bira-bira was removed from your hair, between his fingers- he gazed at it
"Do not wear it, especially, in front of me, toss it away, gold looks better on you anyways, accompany me Y/n", tossing the bira-bira back to you, he leaned in
"Your Oka-San sure is quite a woman, quite a gamble she has made", he chuckled, "Isn't she far too greedy?"
"She is, I won't lie, but this greediness has brought her so far", you gave a light chuckle as you looked at him
"Then if I am greedy for you- Will I be able to go as far as I want Y/n?"
Footnote: Check out masterlist for all chapters!
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jinkookspencil · 6 months
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like couples do | knj
you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....
description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3
wc: ~1.6k words
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Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.
Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...
Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.
Fuck.
Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.
Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection… 
It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.
This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening. 
The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.
Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.
You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.
He had to answer.
+
to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?
to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.
to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain
to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….
to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember? 
to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon 
to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.
to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)
+
The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.
“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”
“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.
“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.
“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.
“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.
“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.
“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation. 
Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”
“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.
“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”
Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.
“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”
Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.
"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.
"Oh, she’s pretty!”
"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."
"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.
“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"
"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.
"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”
“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage. 
“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….” 
“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."
“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.
“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.
“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes. 
“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”
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dreamofjoys · 9 months
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𝟯𝗞 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧 ; 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗙𝗔𝗘'𝗦 𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚
Summary: Thrown into a world full of magic, you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of high school boys who knows nothing but to bring trouble and chaos. While you struggle to cope with learning about a brand new world where magic is of essence, something that you lack, you started questioning why was it you who fell into twisted wonderland. Was someone behind this? Was it all just a coincidence that you fell into this world? And most importantly, why you? To find these answers to your questions, you were constantly thrown into near death experiences that did little to nothing to aid in your investigations. Anger, sadness and doubts starts to manifest as you wonder if you will ever be able to find a way back home. However, new friendships were forged, and love has started to blossom inside you like spring. In the end, it was all love that has guided you to where you are now.
— pairing: Malleus draconia x fem reader (soulmate au)
— content info: sfw, might have some sensitive topics here and there but will indicate at the top of the post, diasomnia chapter spoilers
— a/n: To celebrate reaching 3000 followers, I have decided to write a series for my one and only husband, Malleus! Recent chapter updates about Diasomnia has been pretty wholesome and heart breaking. Therefore, I wanted to write something nice for our big boy. Most of my followers are from twisted wonderland, so I hope that this fic reaches out to them. It's been a long time (3 years to be exact) since I have dedicated myself to write a series for a character. It's going to be a long and painful journey for me but I really hope to complete this (despite my busy schedule). To all the Malleus's fans out there who are searching for any crumbs, I hope this is enough for you <3
— update schedule: I aim to update once a week, or maybe twice if I am lucky enough. This series will probably take a long time to complete, and I am forcing myself to write ahead of the schedule cause it's very lengthy. I seek everyone's understanding to not rush me to complete / upload them asap.
— first full chapter will be uploaded on 15 july 2023
— tag list will be opened for this! please comment to indicate your interest
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Consolidation of All chapters (will update list as time goes by)
— Prologue ; A fragment of my memory
— Chapter 1 ; Walking upon a dream
— Chapter 2 ; Intruders
— Chapter 3 ;
If your user is tagged here, means you are in the taglist
— @randomfangirl2718 , @mell7 , @windalchemist001 , @mxaaii , @sailorenthusiast , @masquerade-of-misery , @rayroseu , @lychiikuma , @bannuu , @worldussysblog , @jnksgrl , @rincommittedarsin , @nooneknows8976 , @qmabailor
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keepthisholykiss · 1 year
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Dracula Daily Research Survey for Upcoming Conference
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Hello internet friends! I come to you yet again, hat in hand, to request your input on your experience with Dracula Daily. If you read Dracula Daily, participated in the memes or discussions, if you stopped reading Dracula Daily, or if you looked at it and thought it was cool but too daunting please let me know. I have had a conference proposal accepted to discuss this project and how it can set the stage to better impact learning and literacy. As some of you know from my previous research on Hamlet, gender, and social media this is an overarching body of research I am continually participating in. Not only do I write these pieces and produce this research to help me in preparing for my eventual Ph. D. dissertation but I also use it to (hopefully) help educators become better at what they do.
If you have a spare 10 minutes please fill out this survey. It is anonymous and will greatly help with my research. I will STOP taking submissions on Feb 1, 2023. So please fill it out ASAP! Again, I want to hear from anyone who even passingly participated in Dracula Daily. Share it with everyone you know who did, I am seeking a diverse set of answers for valuable and wide data.
I am also tagging some of the big Dracula Daily accounts in hopes that they can help spread the word. @draculadailytracker @draculadailyreactions @draculadailybracket
ETA: Due to the overwhelming response I will be closing this survey on January 1, 2023 instead. I expected and accounted for 250 responses which it has now far surpassed. Please feel free to continue sharing and submitting.
Also to answer some comments, DMs, and questions: I am my own (disabled) researcher and the way I collect, process, analyze, and discuss data is my own choice. Commentary on how I research is not something I am looking for, thank you! Partial results, data, and analysis will become publicly available in late Spring or Summer 2023. Until then I will not be of liberty to disclose anything else. If there are any other frequent comments or questions I will edit this post to reflect the answers.
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kaluxsims · 6 months
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October! At last! It's my favorite month and it's also the peak of busybusybusy time for me making CC. I'm in full Simblreen prep mode and I'm still gonna try to keep up with regular weekly posts. We'll see how that goes. I'm hoping it'll go better the rest of the month than I feel like it did this week. (Fixed now.)
This week, as happens so often, I bring you something @powluna made that I HAD TO have for my game ASAP. Rosie is a really darling floaty blouse that's perfect for Spring or Fall.
It's available for TF-AF, with the standard morphs. I converted all 40 of powluna's textures, though the patterns distort a bit because of the reshaping. If it wasn't Simblreen prep season, I might have redone the UV mapping, but...oh well.
Aside from the unspoken mistake in the preview, I also did a little more editing after taking it. I finessed the shape and morphs a tiny bit.
I never know where to put extra views when a mesh needs them, so here's the back.
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Swatch:
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Download:
Credits: @powluna for TS4 mesh and textures
REPO: SFS or MediaFire
Standalone: SFS or MediaFire
By the way, if you want spoilers for what I'm working on for Simblreen, visit @kalux-sims.
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bunny-lily · 15 days
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Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending
Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff
Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader
CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy. 
You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.
AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!
This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.
This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;
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Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.
Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on your sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube barely scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down. 
No, you weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.
It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your piano. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.
She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the piano – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.
As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.
In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.
Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their ashes, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.
In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.
It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.
You liked to think she would have been proud of you.
A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.
You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”
Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.
While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.
A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”
Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.
You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your piano, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.
“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”
“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”
“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too high for him. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”
He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”
“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”
His hands took place over the keys and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”
“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the piano. You opened it and sifted through a few of the song options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.
It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.
“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the ledge in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”
The song consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.
The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing. 
He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.
“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play piano?”
“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”
You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”
He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”
“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”
When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.
You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as ashy white as the tresses on his head.
He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.
They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.
You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so…familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.
Where have I seen you before?
You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”
“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”
Just Satoru? Is that really okay?
It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.
“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”
You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.
Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor. 
Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the songs you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.
“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”
“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach some things very easily.”
Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.
Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?
You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”
“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing your piano with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”
He made something warm form in your chest.
“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”
He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”
“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”
The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”
He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”
“Alright,” you acquiesced.
“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”
You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.
“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.
You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted them and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–
You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.
You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.
That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.
You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.
Your phone buzzed.
You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.
Unknown, 9:17 PM
Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru.
Does next week still work for you, same time?
What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs. 
Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could deflate in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.
The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.
––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•––––
“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.
It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.
“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ piano alive.”
Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”
“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.
“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”
His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.
You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing the piano whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”
“So you got into music young?”
You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”
“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.
You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.
“I’d love to.”
––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•––––
Satoru had been your student for a while now. 
He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.
At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.
He laughed, and said nothing more.
By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a song he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch by him, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.
And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played. 
A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.
You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore. 
You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.
In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.
You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old records. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.
There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.
Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.
You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.
“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.
You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”
“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the piano.
“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”
What a gorgeous sound. 
“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”
He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.
You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest song quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.
Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.
Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.
…Was that music?
Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.
Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.
Then…
You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone. 
His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.
As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only dream of ever achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.
The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.
Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the keys. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.
You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.
You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.
“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”
You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.
“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”
“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”
“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.
Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.
“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh. 
Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.
You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.
You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.
He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.
You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.
“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”
As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain. 
You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.
From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.
“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”
You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.
You never did manage to master it.
You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?
You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.
“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.
When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”
“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”
Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.
You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a song, hear him swallow nervously.
“Keep playing,” he pleaded, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”
You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt first hand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?
The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.
In every way, the song reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.
But, if that was the case…
How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys? 
Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.
Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the song.
Or, rather, the end of the song as you knew it.
There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”
“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”
He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.
Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.
“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.
––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•––––
Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position. 
Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in. 
Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus. 
You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager. 
But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.
A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.
Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.
“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.
Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.
“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”
Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.
He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.
There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.
“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”
Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the song you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.
The one he was playing for you now.
Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…
You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.
Now, you felt completely spellbound.
You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. A couple clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere. 
By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.
The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.
His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.
Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.
Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious song your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.
Because you created it together.
––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•–––– Banner made by cafekitsune ♥ gotta figure out how to make my own
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carakook · 8 days
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
“Although his tone isn’t accusing, you know what he’s really asking: ‘who the fuck is that?’”
→ Chapters list ←
⚘5. The Change in Seasons
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
⚘Synopsis: Six months later, Y/N is trying to cope and move on from ending things with Jungkook, and she feels she has come a long way… or maybe she’s just in denial.
⚘Genre:Forbidden love
⚘Word count: 10k+
⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of mild sleeping pill abuse (no overdosing, more so using sleeping pills when you’re sleeping just fine.), heavy grief, mentions of infidelity, mentions of awful coping mechanism, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, descriptions of nightmares, mentions of anxiety, mentions of mental health, metaphors involving religion (this story has no religious aspects just metaphors lol), let me know if I miss anything!
⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
⚘A/N: Bad news: chapter 5 ended up being 21k words long after I rewrote it and I could not fit it into one post. Good news: you get chapter 6 early for this reason! I’m sorry it has taken so long to get this out, and please forgive me for any grammar mistakes, but I really wanted both of these to go out asap and around the same time. Chaper 6 is being released sometime today, it’s finished, just needs to be formatted (I need to take a break for a bit lol.) Chapter 5 now consists of basically describing how coping with the aftermath of shit went for Y/N after everything was said and done, and how her life is going now. Chapter 6 is where it gets juicy, and you will see how Jungkook attempted to cope. I really hope you enjoy this, and I appreciate how lovely you’ve all been while waiting. Also forgive me for the lack of songs listed in each chapter… again I’m sort of just wanting to get these both out asap! Love you! 💜
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↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪Hate You - Jungkook
♪Space Song - Beach House
♪Jealous - Eyedress
♪Go With the Flow - Queens of the Stone Age
✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧
Six months later.
"Y/N, I really do love you." "Suuure you do." "No, baby, I do, I always have. Wish you would stop questioning me like that." You shake your head at him, running your fingers through his hair as you do so. You know that he loves you, you stopped fighting it a while ago... but you still like to fuck with him. You like how he always is so damn persistent in letting you know that he fucking adores you. You cup his face as he remains hovered over you, both of you sweaty and smelling strongly of sex. You made love again, and it was just as beautiful as the first time. "I know, Koo, I know." You place the softest kiss on his lips, which causes his eyes to crinkle up adorably, his nose scrunching along with it. God, you really do love this man. Your flower. Your Bearded Iris. Your literal soulmate. Suddenly, you have cotton mouth, so you reach over to grab the bottle of water resting on the nightstand as he affectionately nuzzles into your bare breasts, the sheets pooling over the both of you like a satin dream. The dim lighting in your bedroom makes him glow, your golden boy. You could stare at him forever. Things are just so... peaceful. No anxious noises of the city, dark out, quiet inside other than the sounds of both of you breathing and speaking softly to each other. This is heaven, you think. Nothing gets better than this. Pure euphoria and bliss, except the bliss is no longer accompanied by guilt and the ugly green weeds made up of jealousy.
Comfortable and arm hues of red and orange fill the room thanks to the city lights filtering in and your arm bedroom lighting, much like the changing season outside. Autumn always was your favorite season, until you developed a taste for vibrant spring flowers. As you take a greedy sip of the water, you notice the potted plant on your nightstand... you don't know how you didn't notice it before. You lean up, causing him to whine and maneuver himself down, kissing your tummy sweetly. A bearded Iris, purple and white at full bloom resides in the plain white ceramic pot. You furrow your brows, reach over to touch the leafs of the flower. You can't recall how the hell it got here. "Woah... this is gorgeous, did you get it?" You question Jungkook as he continues peppering your body with kisses. "Mhm." That's it? Just 'mhm'? When did he get this? Why don't you remember it? One of your fingers grazes one of the bigger petals as the cogs in your brain start working way too hard. For some reason, the fact that you don't recall this beautiful flower really bothers you. "When? You didn't even say anything about it." He grunts at you, reaches up, grasps your wrist, and yanks it away from the flower. You flinch, because... What the fuck? "Don't touch it. Don't even look at it, Y/N. It isn't yours." His kisses turn into bites and he goes lower, once he reaches your pelvis he doesn't even warn you before he starts suckling on your clit. Something doesn't feel quite right. You put a hand in his hair, your confusion and anxiety is written all over your face. You yank his head up, and he glares at you, as if he isn't the one who just snapped at you over a damn flower. "Jungkook, what the fuck? What do you mean it isn't mine? What's your problem?" His eyes are blank as he stares at you, and his gaze slowly moves over to the flower. He clicks his tongue but stays in position as he speaks. "Look what you fucking did, I told you not to touch it." he nearly growls as he nods towards the flower. Zap. You look back at the flower, pulling the sheets up to your chest because you suddenly feel too vulnerable, out of place. Your blood runs cold when you see it. The petals start turning brown and dry, falling off of the stem of the flower. Wilting right in front of your eyes, quickly, as if your touch was fucking poison. It was so vibrant and pretty moments ago, and now it looks morbid. Zap. "Why the hell is it doing that?" "I told you not to touch, it isn't yours." Your gaze finds him again, you fight the urge to try and pick up the pieces of the pretty flower and try to siphon your light into it, to try and save it. None of what's happening makes sense. The lights in your apartment change from warm red and orange hues to dark and icy, blue and black like winter, and when your eyes find Jungkook and really look at him, you nearly gag.
Petals adorn his face, but he's cold. His honey skin is turning pale, and the petals are turning brown just like the Bearded Iris next to you. His face is still blank, not a single emotion behind his eyes. It looks like he's fucking dying, every time a petal falls off of his skin he gets paler and paler. What the fuck is happening? Zap, zap, zap. "Jungkook- I- what-" "If I loved you, wouldn't I still be here? I would've left her. I wouldn't have left you. You shouldn't have touched that flower, Y/N, it wasn't yours. Now look what you've done to me." You blink back tears because you don't understand what he means. You don't understand why he's being so cold suddenly... he doesn't look like him. He looks like a clone, maybe a shell, maybe even a fucking demon. You have no fucking idea what he's talking about. You reach up to swipe at your eyes, try to will the tears away because they are blurring your vision and making things too murky. When you do get clarity again, he's... gone. In between your legs, all that resides are brown leafs and petals, as if he was never here. You start frantically calling for him, grabbing at the sheets as if you may find him hiding underneath. Full on sobbing now, because he isn't here, and he just withered away right in front of you after saying such cruel things.
Zap, zap, zap, zap, zap.
You flinch awake, automatically start feeling around your empty sheets, trying to pick up those withered petals of the man you once loved so much… only to realize it was a dream. Another fucking nightmare.
Your very own personal hell created after you lost your flower.
To this day you get the zaps that you did the first day without him. And to this day it shakes you to your damn core.
After he left that last time, it was a mix of melancholy, relief, and a new kind of guilt. Relief because you no longer felt the guilt, it had been as if a weight was completely lifted off of your shoulders, rocks were taken away from your garden that sat on the soil and made your roots much too constricted to grow any more. But with the relief came a completely different kind of guilt.
Guilt that you felt relief at all, because if you love someone, why would you feel any relief at them being gone? You watched your flower be taken away by gardeners who didn’t know how to nourish him. That’s how it felt, anyway, when in reality he walked out on his own, respecting your wishes to end this. So feeling relief made you feel like scum at the same time. You loved this man and he loved you, he loved you so goddamn much. But he was weighing you down, and both of you became well aware that you would never flourish fully with the weight of him being married on your chest.
What you were doing was wrong. Ending it was right… right?
You grieved him heavily. It felt as if he died. As if even if you wanted to, you couldn’t reach out to him anymore. You couldn’t stare at his pretty petals colored in shades of you and him, you couldn’t touch them and water them and feed them. You couldn’t talk to him and hope your words fed him like food and encouragement to grow like you always did.
Although technically, you could. If you truly wanted to, you could have texted him or called him. Every night for the first two weeks, you would stay up and type long paragraphs to him declaring how much you regret ending it, how much you miss him, and how much you love him. Because you didn’t block his number at first. You couldn’t do it, it felt wrong. It felt like if you did that, you were severing the final tie that you would have to him. You didn’t have him on social media, so texting was really your only way of contact. Blocking him felt like it would be what really made this all real.
You felt like if you blocked him, surely he would keel over and die of a broken heart once he realized and finally tried to reach out again, because you knew damn well this man would reach out again at some point.
Which is ironic, because on the fourth week, an exact month later, he did reach out. You suspect maybe it was on accident, because he sent a long ass paragraph confessing how much he regretted it, how much he loves you, how much he misses you, and how much he hates his wife… but following the paragraph, he promptly apologized. Said it was an accident.
Before he deemed it as an ‘accident’, you were ready. You started typing back an acceptance, asking to see him again, borderline begging to see him again. But him admitting he didn’t mean to actually send it made you pause.
Made you realize how dangerous this man really was.
This was the night that you blocked his number.
And holy fuck, that made grieving ten times worse. Because now there was no string tethering you together. The very last root that kept you both twined together was ripped apart. He was like a ghost now, just a memory. Nothing in your life tied you to him other than the mementos he left behind.
The mementos which you obsessively held onto each day. You looked at the pictures he left every single day several times a day, you would literally just stare and cry. The chain he left remained on your neck like a god damn collar, you refused to take it off as if it was branded into your skin. You showered with it on, slept with it on, never took it off. The clothing he left you wore frequently, and you refused to wash them. But overtime, his scent faded. It faded into your own scent which made you question your sanity, because the less you smelt him on his jacket, hoodie, and shirt, the more you questioned was he ever even real?
Or was this all some fucked up delusion you made up out of loneliness and desperation to feel loved by someone? To love someone?
The dreams made it worse. Every single goddamn night you had dreams about him. It started out as good dreams, the kind of dreams that were reliving memories or making fantasies of forever come alive. Both of your flowers were immortal and at full bloom in these dreams, and it was the only moments of happiness you had. The only thing you could do to feel better was sleep, and so you did.
You slept as much as you could. On your days off of work, you would take sleeping pills that you didn’t need, and you would sleep 14 hours at a time, just to have these dreams and feel close to him again. Dreams of making love over and over, gardening together, cooking together, living together, getting married, having little babies that looked just like him, a complete fantasy world that you made in these dreams that provided solace.
But when you woke up, it was like the grieving process never progressed. It never got better. It only got worse. And in the back of your mind you knew how unhealthy it was to be sleeping so long, you knew that you were technically abusing sleeping medication, you knew that you were putting your job at risk by waking up late every single damn day and being late to work too, and you knew that your mental health was degrading.
You were fucking torturing yourself but you didn’t know how to stop.
After you blocked him though, it’s like the dreams morphed. They changed completely, turned morbid and disturbing. You have no idea why, maybe because in some way, you still were holding onto those rose colored glasses and refused to acknowledge the bad parts of the relationship you had with him. But severing that last point of contact seemed to have bring light onto the guilt you felt while you were with him, the jealousy, the misplaced possessiveness that he never even knew about.
Much like the dream you had tonight, the dreams were weird and distorted. They always started out sickly sweet but ended on a bitter note. Ended with him disintegrating into a pile of petals after proclaiming he was never yours and never would be.
This is when you stopped sleeping all together. Instead of taking sleeping pills that you really didn’t need and sleeping for way too long, you quit those pills cold turkey and started to develop insomnia. Quitting sleeping pills after taking them for an entire month should have been done slowly, because your body becomes dependent on them. If you quit them cold turkey, it prevents your body from producing the chemicals it needs to sleep, often leading to temporary or even a permanent case of insomnia. So you just started staying up. It was so easy, too. So easy to be tired rather than have those fucking nightmares.
If you did sleep, it was 2-3 hours at a time because your body couldn’t take being awake any longer. But you never allowed yourself to sleep for long, you simply couldn’t sleep peacefully. The moment the nightmares would begin, you would force yourself to wake up. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, and then you’d cry for fucking hours. You’d feel guilty and jealous over shit you should’ve gotten over by now.
Sometimes, on really bad days, his wife would appear in these dreams too. And it fucked you up. A faceless woman would catch you in bed with Jungkook, and she would scream and cry and yell, blame you for ruining her marriage and her future, and then Jungkook would become faceless too. As if you never really knew him.
Things became bad, to say the least. Three months into grieving, heartbreak, fucking hell on earth, you were very unwell. And it became noticeable to those around you.
Which was arguably the worst part, because no one knew what was wrong or what was going on. Obviously you never told anyone about Jungkook, why the fuck would you? Sleeping with a married man and falling in love with him isn’t something to brag about. As much as he was your most treasured memory, he was also your most dirty secret. You doubted if you did tell anyone, they would feel any sympathy for you. Especially considering you continued to sleep with him after finding out he was married. You did this to yourself, really. No one feels sympathy for a fucking home wrecker.
That’s what you felt you were. A home wrecker, a mistress, the other woman. This wasn’t some case of you being fucked over by some sleazy guy who hid his marriage from you, you were both at fault, you both did wrong, and you felt like you deserved to suffer in silence. So you did.
You didn’t go out with your little group of friends anymore, you constantly made excuses and told those around you that you were fine, just a little depressed. You hid it well… until you didn’t. It became fucking impossible to hide when you felt like you were dying on the inside.
You work at a little art studio/store downtown, it isn’t much but it pays the bills and you’re happy doing it. You were, anyway. You were designated to instruct the themed classes that are hosted every night. You aren’t a professional by any means, you just love to paint, you love art, and you used to love seeing the lovers and families come in to have fun and learn how to paint silly little pictures with you.
But during the grieving process, you became noticeably bad at your job. You would show up late to the morning classes, you weren’t selling as much art supplies as you used to, and the night classes are what really started fucking you up. The night classes were normally full of couples who were on dates… dates you never got to indulge in with he-who-shall-not-be-fucking-named.
You would become bitter during these classes. Previously you were peppy, a bit funny, and very encouraging to those who wanted to learn. But you became dull. Of course you didn’t take out your feelings on these innocent customers, but the classes just weren’t as fun for the people paying for them.
Your coworkers noticed heavily. Your boss isn’t a bad guy, but he knew something was very off with you. The girls you worked with also noticed, more specifically Sohee who had continuously asked you if you were ok and tried to get you to confess what the fuck was causing you to become a lifeless zombie who had nothing but guilt and bitterness behind her eyes.
Your performance and constant attendance issues should have gotten you fired, really. You were almost betting that your boss would fire you at some point. But he didn’t, instead he awkwardly begged Sohee to get to the bottom of what was going on because even if you were sort of shit at your job at the moment, he was mostly worried. Everyone was worried, and you never even realized it.
Never realized how fucking obvious it was that this was heartbreak caused by love.
Of course you didn’t tell Sohee outright. You refused to. You were going to take this shit to your grave, you swore it. God and satan and Jeon Jungkook would be the only ones who knew that this shit ever happened.
Until she took you out for drinks, and you got shit faced drunk and spilled your dirty soil all over the place for her to see.
All it took was three bottles of soju and seeing a couple making out in the booth across from you to make you confess it all. Sohee listened, and you were sure she was going to chastise you and call you a dirty home wrecking whore after you were done.
But she never did. She only listened and consoled you.
She didn’t make you feel guilty and she didn’t undermine your feelings. She rubbed your back and wiped your tears like the Angel she is, and she told you it was ok. She told you that sometimes mistakes are the best things that can happen to us, even if they’re supposed to be mistakes. She held your hand and coaxed you out of the dirt, wanted you to see that your feelings were valid and you didn’t have to feel guilty for them.
On the other hand, she was also brutally honest. She asked curious questions, and when she found out you had been ‘grieving’ for nearly three months now, she scolded you. Not because what you did was wrong, but because you weren’t taking care of yourself. You were fucking torturing yourself and it wasn’t ok.
Everyone grieves after breaking up. That’s normal. Although this technically wasn’t a breakup, it somehow felt much worse because of that very fucking reason. It wasn’t a breakup, but felt like one.
What isn’t normal is never making progress in grieving. Instead of getting better and moving on, you stayed stagnant. Everything around you was changing, spring turning into summer and then turning into autumn, leaf’s changing from vibrant to warm and muted, people and places moving on about their days all while you stayed stuck in the same exact spot in your own head. A self made prison.
She explained how it wasn’t normal, how you probably needed to get help. How it’s ok to feel this way, but it isn’t ok to neglect and torture yourself. You needed help, and you knew it, you weren’t coping properly. But you were also stubborn.
Because despite being fucking sick with grief for Jungkook, you were also worried. You swore in your head that he wasn’t ok. Fuck, what if he’s actually dead? What if he’s being dumb? Is he even taking care of himself? How badly is her hurting? What if he’s lonely?
The main reason you couldn’t move on is because, again, guilt. It fucking plagued you still, but it was different. You convinced yourself that he was just as unwell as you, he fucking must be. Which made you feel as if you weren’t allowed to move on and try to be happy, or even ok. You tortured yourself for both selfless and selfish reasons. You didn’t know how to stop.
That same night, you stayed at Sohee’s place. She was determined to knock some damn sense into you. You weren’t super close prior to this, but she genuinely could not stand seeing you so dead inside. She felt awful for you, and she was a good friend. Sometimes good friends have to be a bit harsh to get through.
So as you were on her couch sulking, watching TV, she asked questions about Jungkook. You didn’t think anything of it. You rambled on and on about Jungkook, assuming she was just letting you get it all out. You didn’t think anything of it when she asked for his full name and birthday, or when she asked you to describe what he looked like, or when she asked what his occupation was.
But boy, the moment she shoved her phone in your face while you were rambling on and on about how he reminded you of a flower, you suddenly regretted telling her anything.
“You need to get your shit together, because he’s doing just fine.” She told you, and at first you refused to look. Because you didn’t want to know what was on her phone screen.
What would be the damning evidence that you’d been torturing yourself while he was actually moving on, rather than suffering with you.
But she was just as stubborn as you were, and she made you look. You did. And you swear a part of you healed and broke all at once.
You have no idea how the fuck this crazy bitch did it, but she found his wife’s Instagram. Finding his account is one thing, but hers? The faceless woman who was haunting your nightmares and accusing you of ruining her life? The faceless woman who now has a face and a name and an entire fucking life for you to see?
A life with your flower, your lover, your ultimate fucking demise. All right in front of you.
You were silent as you scrolled. So many curiosities that you held in the past were now answered. Such as how she looked… and she was gorgeous. She had wavy honey blond hair which was clearly dyed but looked so perfect on her, most of her pictures she had blue contacts in that hid her pretty brown eyes but still somehow made her look ethereal, she was fit with the perfect body, her makeup was natural but flawless… she was flawless in every way.
You gathered that she is a journalist that specializes in fashion. She’s often traveling just as Jungkook used to claim when he was with you. She goes to fancy fashion shows and takes pictures and writes articles. So professional and put together in every way.
Nothing like you. And at first, you caught yourself comparing yourself to her harshly. Wondering what she had that you didn’t…
Until you scrolled to her most recent posts.
And your lover stared at you through the screen mockingly.
First you saw a picture of them kissing. Jungkook was smiling onto her lips. The caption reads ‘He flew us to LA just so I could see Coachella’. This was posted two months ago.
Two months ago… not long after you ended things.
Two months ago when you were crying so hard that you couldn’t breathe or see, calling out for him to come back to you… while he was at fucking Coachella with his wife.
Was he ever even grieving? Did he ever even care?
You silently scrolled on, and one more post is all you fucking needed.
Posted today, another picture of them kissing, on a yacht at night. ‘Throwback to our honeymoon, can’t believe it was 3 years ago, he’s taking me to Japan for our anniversary to recreate it!’
He went on a fucking vacation while you were on your coworkers couch babbling about how much you love and miss him and how he’s prettier than a flower.
How fucking shitty does that feel?
The emotions happened quickly. You felt resentment, jealousy, anger, maybe even hatred towards them both. You had been suffering for months while he was at Coachella after you fucking blocked him. You had been worried this entire time when he had been doing just fine all along.
It felt like he did you wrong in a way… but those feelings went away just as quickly as they came.
Because this is what you wanted. As much as it fucking stings, you literally told him ‘love your wife more’. You meant it. Not just for his wife’s sake, but for his. He didn’t want to leave her, so he should at least try to love her again. Fuck, all you wanted was for him to be happy.
No matter how jealous or bitter you felt at actually seeing him happy, it brought you a sense of peace knowing that maybe he wasn’t suffering like you assumed. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was ok. Maybe his wife did love him and was nurturing him back to health without even knowing it.
It didn’t make it hurt any less, but it really did give you a bit of clarity.
Of course you cried about it. Fuck, you cried and cried and cried, enough to water an entire bush of flowers at that point. The only difference was this time, you weren’t alone. Sohee was with you, consoling you through it, letting you vent your feelings and frustrations. Letting you grieve.
But this time, you want to grieve proper. If he’s happy, you deserve to be happy too…
You are so thankful for Sohee because without her, you’re sure you may have withered away completely.
Shortly after this new sense of clarity, Sohee started helping you slowly pick up pieces of yourself. Petals and leafs and vines and roots, all scattered amongst the dirt, all slowly started gathering together.
You knew you wouldn’t be able to put these pieces back together. You can’t nurture a flower back to health once it’s died, after all… but you can start fresh.
You and Sohee became good friends, she helped you find healthier coping mechanisms, let you cry when you need to, let you vent when you can’t keep it in anymore, and most importantly she let you share the good memories you had with Jungkook. She never made you feel guilty, she just listened. And you are so fucking thankful for that.
And as time went on, you did get better slowly. After seeing what you saw, it was much easier to feel ok with trying to be happy. The guilt was mostly gone at this point, and all you wanted was to focus on yourself. Your sleep slowly got better, the nightmares slowly went away, and although you aren’t the same, you aren’t as dull either.
You start painting again, painting has always been one of your favorite things. You used to paint all the time, mostly portraits of those you loved… portraits of him after you first met became your favorite thing to paint. All of those are tucked away in a closet now though, along with the many pictures you have of him, because you don’t need any reminders of him of you can help it. Which is kind of a contradiction considering your favorite thing to paint now is flowers… but we don’t have to talk about that.
It takes time to heal and grieve after you cut the chord with someone who you swore you’d live and die with. It takes extra time when you never really started to move on to begin with. But you do start healing. Maybe you aren’t as social as you once were, maybe you’re lonelier now, maybe you’re starting to realize you still don’t know yourself quite as much as you thought you did.
But you’re making progress… slowly. No longer a flower that’s at full bloom, but also no longer a flower that’s wilting. Just a seed, your own seed that you water and care for rather than relying on someone else to do it for you.
And although you are now the one taking care of your own flower, Sohee is helping. Rather than relying on someone to water and feed your plant, you’re doing it together. You water, she feeds. Vice versa. Teamwork. Progress. You aren’t codependent, you’re just accepting help from a friend that you swear is an Angel sent from above. You are so thankful for her.
She pushes you, too. After she sees you started to paint and do ok at work again, she pushed some more. She constantly tried to get you to go out, meet new people, meet new guys specifically. Something that made you feel sick to think about, but also you slowly started missing having someone to love on. Someone to share affection and laughter with that wasn’t just a friend. You knew she was right, even if you didn’t actually date someone, it would be great progress if you actually put yourself out there and were open to the idea of letting someone in romantically, even just a little bit.
Someone who’s actually available for more than secret trysts.
Which is why you let Sohee set you up on a date. You’ve grown to trust Sohee heavily, maybe a bit too much. But fuck, no one can blame you for that when she is the one who dug up your dirty secrets and instead of judging you, helped you through it. She comforted you when you didn’t know how to comfort yourself. So you trust her judgment heavily, and if she thinks you should try to date, you think she’s right.
And Sohee has great taste in men, you’ve seen it first hand. She’s shared various stories with you about her hookups and exes, and the girl has similar taste as you, maybe just a bit more adventurous. A blind date with a man of Sohee’s choice doesn’t sound so bad.
You really didn’t expect the date to turn into anything, or even be enjoyable. You mostly did it because it was a step in the right direction of fully moving on. You were planning on trying to put yourself out there, sure, but you never planned to actually like the guy.
You didn’t expect Sohee to set you up with a man who looked like he could be a fucking model. You didn’t expect him to be your exact type. And you didn’t expect him to be so goddamn sweet and put together.
The moment you saw this man you knew you were in trouble. The moment he opened his mouth, you also knew you were in trouble. You were fucking terrified at the prospect of actually liking someone other than Jungkook. Even just being attracted to someone else felt wrong…
Shit, most days looking at your dildo felt wrong. You couldn’t even fucking use it.
So you were a bit of a nervous wreck when this man picked you up to wine and dine you. You weren’t nervous before you saw his face or heard his voice. But you were once you came face to face with him, it was as if he had a sign on his head that said ‘MOVE ON Y/N’, bright and neon, mocking you the entire night.
But as the night went on, you found this man wasn’t quite as intimidating as he seemed. He asked questions, wanted to get to know you, seemed genuinely interested in you as a person. He was nice to look at. Was pretty to listen to. He didn’t act bored either when you didn’t ask him questions, in fact, he answered the silent questions in your head without you even asking.
He could tell you were nervous, and although he didn’t know the true reason behind it, he thought it was adorable. Thought to himself, thank fuck for Sohee and her pretty friends. Because he was genuinely enamored with you.
He didn’t see the wilted flower that Jungkook did, or the dead flower mocking you every time you looked into the mirror. He saw a pretty little wildflower that he wanted to pick and take home with him.
You learned quite a bit about him that night despite never really asking. He worked in marketing for a fashion design company, fairly close to where you work, a 9-5 that gave him weekends off and paid vacation, full benefits too. He had a dog named Simba who he loved like a child. He didn’t have many hobbies but he did enjoy bar hopping and hanging out with his group of friends who he talked fondly of. He takes good care of himself, cares about his appearance and fashion choices, takes pride in being handsome, even has a fucking skincare routine that he talked about for nearly five minutes… but he’s still humble somehow. Doesn’t seem narcissistic or conceited, just sure of himself. Confident. He knows his worth, but also knows his place.
You really liked that, considering you haven’t been quite so confident lately.
He has a friend who he called Tae that he speaks highly of, you can tell he loves his friends dearly. He described him as a big teddy-bear-man-child, which makes him seem very loveable. Apparently they don’t exactly share the same friend group but they come together often.
His relationship history… he was kind of vague. He said he has had a few serious relationships, but they never last because the woman loses interest in him, and he hasn’t actually dated in nearly two years, but has had casual flings…
This could be seen as a red flag. Or… maybe he was hurt, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. You know damn well how that feels, in fact, he asked you about your dating history, and you were incredibly vague.
What were you supposed to say? ‘Ah, well, every relationship I have had so far failed, but I was with one guy who I loved more than anything in the world, but it didn’t work out because he was married. Oops!’
Yeah, no, fuck that. It was hard enough being honest with Sohee, she had to get you drunk for you to even confess. There’s was no damn way you were going to tell him.
You didn’t lie. You just said you were in a bit of a situationship with someone you grew feelings for, and when it ended it hurt very badly. Vague, but true. He doesn’t need to know details.
He never even asked for details, which surprised you. In fact, he said “It’s ok, we don’t have to rush into anything, I get it. But try to be open with me, yeah? I really like you so far.”
Too good to be true. Or maybe, just maybe, Sohee sent you an Angel in disguise, one she met while she became an Angel herself. Maybe he really is a good guy, and you got lucky for once. Maybe your karma for the things you did with Jungkook was your suffering in the beginning of grieving, and now you have a chance to redeem yourself.
You were tempted to cast him out after this night together. Because you were afraid. What was the catch? What was he hiding? Is he a serial killer? Is he even real? Are you making up these men in your head or something?
You had a decision to make: you could make the decision to take more time for yourself, count this as you putting yourself out there… or you could give him a chance. See where it goes.
You chose the latter.
You explained to him as he walked you to your door that you weren’t ready for something serious, but you enjoyed spending time with him too. And he was ok with that. He said he’d like to take you out again anyway, and you agreed.
An easy routine began after this. The dates following the first one were tame and relaxed but always so nice. It was sort of healing in a way, honestly. He was so kind and always went at your pace, let you control everything. He’d be the one taking you out, but you got to set the pace. He never tried to kiss or touch either, never pressured you to move things faster. Eventually you started spending every weekend together, and often weekdays too. He’d bring you lunch or dinner at work and eat with you, he’d visit your apartment, sometimes you’d even go to his. You started spending the night together, he left his toothbrush at your apartment and you left yours at his.
This all happened within the span of the last few months, so maybe it was a bit fast, but you just did things as they felt right.
And yes, eventually you kissed. Eventually you touched. Eventually you fucked. And you were surprised that you didn’t feel guilty after. You felt… fine. The sex wasn’t out of this world, it was fairly vanilla, but you actually managed to finish and feel good about it afterward.
You think a lot of that had to do with the fact that you were touch starved, hadn’t been with anyone since that last night with Jungkook. Ironically, also like an addict quitting cold turkey. You went from getting touched and fuck at least three times a week, to nothing at all. Could barely even touch yourself properly. But also… he was good in bed. He was fine. It wasn’t too much or too little and he paid close attention to the way your body reacted, he didn’t just act like a wild animal chasing release like most men do.
The day you slept with him was the day you stopped thinking about Jungkook so much. It was like as time went on and you broke these little boundaries for yourself, little petals you held onto flew away with the wind. The petals weighed barely anything, but felt like they weighed the same as bricks.
Did you forget about him? Fuck no. You never could. You still think of him daily. You wonder how he’s doing, if he’s ok, if he’s happy… if he thinks of you too. But it isn’t compulsive like it once was, he doesn’t consume you. He’s just a memory you go back to.
Or maybe you’re in denial.
Because even then… you still wear his chain, you still sleep in his shirt, you still wear his hoodie around the house, and as the months grow colder, your jacket remains the cozy Calvin Klein denim that he gifted you.
You still look at the pictures, maybe not every night, but often. Relive the memories. Wonder if he does the same.
You still stalk his wife’s Instagram. Not obsessively, but every now and then you’ll check to see if she has posted more pictures of them. And most times, she hasn’t. But there are a few new ones… pictures of him smiling that scrunched up smile you’ve always loved, pictures of them together, and pictures of her alone. A reminder to yourself that you have no place in his life… that’s the reason for doing it you chalk it up to, anyway.
And every damn time Seojoon brings you a bouquet of flowers, which is weekly, you can’t fucking help but think of your Jeon Jungkook.
So… maybe you are in denial. But also, you’re coping, you’re moving on. You haven’t fully let him go yet, you’re not sure if you can, but you have been doing fine. You’ve been closer to happy than you have been ever since that last night with him.
He isn’t consuming your thoughts and feelings like he was in the beginning, but he is still very much there in your heart. Despite his petals floating away, some of his roots remain underneath the soil. He’s there… but not.
Which is why tonight’s dream has you so fucking shaken up.
You haven’t dreamed of him in months now. Ever since you started coping more healthily, the dreams faded along with the hurt and resentment. No nightmares. No dreams. Nothing. Just peaceful sleep.
You lay there panting, trying to calm your heart rate down by thinking of things that aren’t him. You look at the clock and realize it’s only 8pm, you barely even remember falling asleep so early. Seojoon agreed to come over after work tonight, but had to stay late at the office to finish some project or something. You must’ve dozed off waiting for him.
You don’t want to start the cycle again, but fuck, you sure as hell won’t be going to sleep again either. Not until Seojoon gets here, anyway.
Things with Seojoon remain smooth, uncomplicated. You’ve been seeing each other for a good three months now, and although there is no title to what you are, you’re basically dating at this point. You wouldn’t call him your boyfriend necessarily, but also you’re exclusive to him.
You like how things are. It’s nice. It’s not stressful, and you don’t have to hide. So when you have the sudden impulse to push him away and tell him you need space, you keep repeating in your head that you can’t let one nightmare fuck it all up. It was just a nightmare.
That’s all.
Instead of isolating like you normally would, and texting Seojoon to tell him not to come, you get out of bed and take off the oversized CK T-shirt and put on your dedicated painting T-shirt which is stained in various colors of paint, far too vibrant for the mood you’re currently in.
You set up the corner of your room as you always do, break out your easel and canvas and various paints, put on your painting playlist on Spotify, and you tell yourself that this is coping. This is a healthy way to cope. No, it’s not dwelling, it’s coping.
It’s coping, you’re sure.
You’re totally not freaking out about the fact that your flower became faceless in this dream, or that he was incredibly angry and cold towards you, or that he ended up disintegrating right in front of your fucking eyes again.
You’re totally not worried that you forgot what he looked like. Not at all. This is just coping.
And so you paint. You don’t really know where you’re going with it, and try to ignore the fact that you are trying to paint a portrait of someone who is now a ghost to you from memory alone. You don’t think of anything, really, you just let your hands move on their own accord.
You have no idea how much time passes before you’re standing before the painting you’ve created, questioning it. Pretending that you can’t quite remember how the eyes or mouth are supposed to look.
You know. You know well. You haven’t forgotten his face, the nose you’ve painted onto the faceless man is proof alone that you have not forgotten. Such a unique nose, a bit big, pointy, perfect in the most imperfect way. How could you forget such a beautiful piece of art carved by god himself?
It’s quite the opposite, really. You stare at the painting for a long time hoping it starts to distort. Hoping that you won’t recognize the single feature you’ve managed to capture. Hoping that somehow, someway, you’ll remember a different set of eyes and lips and beauty marks that don’t belong to the nose staring at you right now.
You start to feel a bit crazy, honestly. This faceless man with only a nose and petals falling off of his skin seems almost too real. Too close. It’s been over half a year now that you’ve seen him, yet here he is fucking haunting you after you swore you were over him.
You are, you still swear. You have to be.
You take your paint brush and glob a streak of bright red paint on it, you’re ready to destroy the canvas because for some fucking reason it won’t distort. You can’t stand looking at it anymore. So you huff, bring your paintbrush to the canvas and—
“That’s gorgeous.”
Fuck.
You slowly turn your head to see Seojoon standing against your bedroom door frame. Suddenly, you sort of regret giving him your spare key, because if he hadn’t spoken up sooner, he would’ve just witnessed you defiling the goddamn painting as if it killed your family. He would’ve thought you were psychotic.
“Ah, thanks. I was just messing around with some ideas I had…”
He arches a brow at you, and even his eyes find the painting again. You nearly feel yourself break a sweat, because what if he asks questions? What if he realizes this wasn’t just you messing around like some quirky art girlie, but this is an actual person you’ve painted?
The same person you vaguely told him about. The man that was never yours, but somehow is still managing to fuck with your head. If he caught on, he may ask questions, and you can’t explain. You’d have to lie.
That’s how you feel, anyway. And you can’t have that.
He lets out an intrigued sigh as he pushes off of the door frame and takes his blazer off, makes his way towards you. He stands right behind you, encircling your waist in his arms and resting his chin on the top of your head, just like Jung—
“That’s very intricate for just messing around babe. What’s it mean?”
He doesn’t sound accusing when he asks, just curious. Seojoon is always curious to know what goes on in your head, especially when it comes to the way you express yourself. And he has no fucking idea who is in this painting, if it’s anyone at all, but he knows he gets an odd feeling in his stomach when he looks at it.
You merely shrug in response as you put your paintbrush down and lean into his touch. This is the question you didn’t want to answer. Although his tone isn’t accusing, you know what he’s really asking: ‘who the fuck is that?’
You’re torn between being vague and lying outright. Lying is never good in a relationship… although you aren’t technically in a relationship to begin with. But again, this is something you will not discuss with him. You don’t want to. And you know in the back of your mind that lying and sneaking around is the very thing that fucked with your head to begin with, but…
Sometimes white lies are necessary… right?
“Doesn’t really mean anything, I was just going with the flow. Not sure who it is, can’t quite figure out the eyes or mouth.” You gesture lazily with one of your hands, placing your free hand on top of his on your tummy.
No need to tell him you know exactly who the fuck this is and you haven’t added the eyes or the mouth because you think you might have a psychotic break if you see his face again.
Seojoon isn’t stupid though. He can tell you’re lying. But he won’t call you out on it. He can tell maybe this is sensitive to you, maybe whoever this is hurt you… and also, he is no stranger to little white lies.
Nothing is ever as pretty as it seems, is it?
He nods, kisses the top of your head. But he can’t quite hear his eyes away from the painting because… it looks so familiar. He can’t place it, maybe he’s just reading into it too much but he swears he knows that nose.
“Huh. Looks kinda familiar. Don’t know why though.”
Immediately you feel alarm bells going off in your head. Why the fuck would it look familiar? It’s a nose on a face that’s otherwise faceless… it’s also kind of morbid looking.
You get this feeling in your gut that you don’t like, but immediately choose to ignore. Because you convince yourself this is anxiety being mixed up with intuition. You often question yourself these days, because you’re paranoid karma is coming for you. But you have to remind yourself that your feelings are valid, you suffered enough, no need to let the lingering guilt you feel over the past affect mundane moments like this.
It’s just anxiety, surely. It’s such a basic nose, it could belong to anyone. It’s a faceless fucking painting, he can’t possibly know who that nose belongs to.
Bullshit.
“Looks familiar because it’s not finished. Who knows, maybe it’s you.”
You tease him, nudging your ass into him which earns you a little grunt. You let out a half hearted giggle and shake your head… when in reality the mere idea of him being in the painting makes you feel sick. It’s not that you don’t want to paint Seojoon, or that you don’t think he’s pretty…
It’s because you know that nose belongs to someone else, the entire concept of this painting is based upon someone else. It could never be Seojoon.
Time to change the subject.
You remove his arms from around your waist and decide you’re done with painting for the night. Seojoon is here now, no need to dwell on the faceless flower man who haunts your dreams like a goddamn ghost.
You walk over to your dresser and take a makeup wipe to start wiping the little specs of paint from your face and arms as you ask, “How was work? You were super late tonight.”
Again, not accusatory. Just curious, because he doesn’t often stay this late for work. Maybe a few hours at a time but never this late into the night.
You’re too focused on getting the paint off of your skin to notice the way he avoids looking at you.
He begins unbuttoning his shirt as he speaks casually, “Ah, was fine. Nothing new. Some idiot fucked up the powerpoint presentation for one of our projects and I had to stay to clean up their mess, you know how it is.”
You really don’t know how it is, but you nod along anyway, you aren’t really paying attention. Just wanna hear about his day.
Maybe you should pay attention.
Before you can speak up, he continues, “Oh, that reminds me, Taehyung invited me to a little potluck type deal tomorrow night with some friends. Was gonna see if you’d wanna come, would be a great chance for you to meet some of my buddies.”
For some reason you get a bit of anxiety at the thought of meeting his friends. You’re not sure why, but again, that feeling in your gut persists. You chalk it up to the fact you’re on edge and paranoid because Seojoon walked in on something you feel he should not have. That damn cursed painting.
Anxiety over intuition. Surely.
You’ve yet to meet his friends, so it is kind of overdue. There’s no real reason as to why, it just hasn’t come up yet. He’s met plenty of your friends, sharing Sohee as a friend means you share other friends too. But you’ve still yet to meet his best friend or even his friend group.
You’ve heard a lot about them, Tae specifically, and he seems lovely. You want to meet him, meet all of them… so you aren’t sure why you have anxiety about it.
Get a grip, Y/N, one nightmare doesn’t mean it’s the end of the fucking world and everything bad is about to happen.
But even then, you ask hesitantly as you throw your makeup wipe away, “You sure? I don’t wanna be the annoying ‘girlfriend’ who wasn’t invited.”
He snorts at that, and shakes his head as he flops onto your bed with his shirt now open and loose with his belt undone. He places his hands behind behind his head as he stares at you, “Can’t be the annoying girlfriend when you aren’t my girlfriend babe.”
He arches a brow, sticks his tongue out playfully. He isn’t scolding you or pressuring you, not that you’re aware of, but is definitely hinting to the fact that you’ve both sort of avoided the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing up to this point.
You’ve avoided it because… well, you don’t know really. You just haven’t felt the need to label it, and if you’re being honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready for the label. On one hand, it’s just a label. So it isn’t that serious. Nothing would change really because you’re already exclusive to each other… that’s what you assume, anyway.
On another hand, it feels more permanent. For some reason it makes you feel pressured into admitting things you don’t quite want to admit. If he were to ask curious questions that he has yet to ask, you wouldn’t be able to lie about them under the guise of it being too private and personal.
You just might have to be honest about the flower who made you bloom and wilt all at once. The flower that was never really yours, but is the entire reason you’re hesitant to commit, despite never committing to that very flower.
He hasn’t made a move to make it official either though, although that’s purely out of respect. Little do you know, all of his friends know you as his girlfriend. His coworkers too. He’s already added that label. But out of ‘respect’ to you, he hasn’t told you that and hasn’t pressured you to add the label yourself. He did say he would go at your pace, after all…
That’s what he allows you to think, anyway. Seojoon is only a man…
“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You retort as you grab a little hair clip and toss it at him, and then go back to your dresser with a huff, start undressing and finding something comfy to wear for bed. Not the CK T-shirt this time. You don’t feel right wearing it in bed with Seojoon.
He shamelessly stares at you as you undress, his eyes becoming a bit heavy lidded as he speaks, “I know I know, but they want you there. They all wanna meet you, I talk about you a lot on our nights out. You could impress them by making something yummy. Please?" He playfully pouts at you and you roll your eyes. You don't miss how his eyes remain glued to your ass even as he pouts, which in most cases is flattering... but tonight you aren't really in the mood. For very unobvious reasons to him, but painfully obvious reasons to you.
You know that he’s right though, you need to meet his friends. It’s not as serious as it feels. It’s only fair to him. You make your way over to the bed, crawl on, and snuggle up to him as you say, “I guess I’m just nervous… but I’ll go.”
He instinctively lifts his arm up so that you can nuzzle into him, his hand trails down your back, then to your ass where he squeezes, “Don’t be nervous, they’re just my friends, and they already love you from what I’ve told them about you. Some of the guys will even have their wives or girlfriends there so you can have girl time or whatever,”
You don’t wanna be pessimistic… but being with his friends and their spouses adds a bit more pressure… especially considering you aren’t technically his girlfriend.
He leans in, whispers in your ear as he squeezes your ass again, “Who knows, maybe they’ll even be jealous I’ve got such a pretty not-girlfriend.”
He chuckles and kisses the top of your head, makes no move to escalate things beyond squeezing your ass. He definitely wants to, but he won’t. Your pace and all that.
It’s true though, he’s excited for you to meet his friends. Even more excited at the prospect of them being jealous. He nearly brags about you on nights out with them because you are so unlike any girl he has been with before.
Seojoon is hot shit and he knows it. He’s one of those men that woman see on the street and think ‘damn I want him.’ He’s used to woman being willing to drop to their knees just for a chance with him. He’s used to woman going at his pace…
But you, you’re different. Because even though he was handsome, even though you were clearly into him from the start, you made him work for it. It’s different because woman are usually willing to do whatever he wants. But you, you had boundaries. You still have boundaries. You’re skittish like a stray cat, one wrong move and you may kick him to the damn curb. He has to earn you and your trust… he has to chase you.
And oh, he loves that. As much as he itches to put a label on it, he’s more than willing to be the one doing whatever you want at your pace. It’s kind of like wanting something he can’t have… it’s the thrill of it. And he’s proud of the fact that you have stayed this long, you’ve yet to push him away.
Maybe it’s not official, but it’s exclusive. That’s what you both think it’s supposed to be, anyway. Although his friends already know you as his girlfriend, and so do his coworkers. In his head, you are his girl. You don’t have to admit it, but you are. The label won’t change things as him and his friends see it, considering it was already there.
His little wildflower that he picked on the side of the rode, out of place on the side of a street full of cars. He put you in a little vase and slowly waters you with security and gives you freedom in the form of sunlight.
Even though you’re unaware that you sit stagnant in a vase on his kitchen counter… just like you’re unaware that you’re his girlfriend.
Some things you just don’t need to know. It’ll happen anyway, he’s sure of it. You’ll agree to be his soon.
But if you did know… if you knew that he was currently comparing you to any sort of flower, especially a fucking wild flower, while simultaneously considering you his girl when you never agreed… you just night have called it all off.
Flower comparisons are reserved for a man who’s faceless painting is staring at you right now. For you and him only. Not Seojoon… no matter what he is to you.
Bur you don’t know. You haven’t a damn clue. So he’s in the clear for now.
You roll your eyes at him, find the little hair clip that you threw at him sitting on the pillow. You pick it up, put it in his hair as you mutter, “Whateverrr. I doubt it.” And then promptly nuzzle into him again.
You do, in your head you don’t think there’s anything to be jealous of. But him? He thinks you’re the perfect arm candy. Every one of his friends will be surprised when they get to know you themselves considering you’re unlike his usual type, sort of an enigma. And then he’ll get to tell stories about your time together and exaggerate them to make them even better.
He’s excited. Much more excited than you are.
You both fall asleep soon after that, keeping up the idle chatter until you drift off. Thankfully, no more nightmares or dreams of your faceless flower man. Although it isn’t a peaceful sleep, it’s quiet. Always is better when sleeping next to someone.
Makes it easy to ignore that tiny bit of loneliness that you can’t quite ignore when no one else is around. The loneliness that you swore was gone until tonight. You can only hope that tomorrow these feelings will be gone, and the faceless man watching you sleep through a painting crafted by your hands will disappear from your thoughts when you wake up.
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dreamingofep · 2 months
Text
Sinned Awakening pt. 20.2 🩸
An AU Elvis fic
(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Request: No
Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]
TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, SMUTTT, sub/dom stuff, mentions of blood/gore!!!
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 8.1k
A/N: Hello everyone! Told you the next part was gonna be up quick!🤭I couldn't leave you hanging and just needed to get this second half of the chapter ASAP. I'm just gonna let you enjoy I hope you like it!
A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.
If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!
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*
It took weeks for your body to recover from the trauma it endured. It was early April and the spring weather in Memphis was still chilly. You grew very restless being in bed for so long but Elvis insisted on it. It was strange having everyone wait on you hand and foot. You never experienced such a thing in your life because you were usually the one taking care of someone. Everyone that worked in the house was the sweetest to you. You can tell they really loved Elvis and liked being around him. They were human and you assumed they knew what he was but you never brought it up. 
Elvis was kind and patient with you, helping you with anything you needed. But you couldn’t help but notice there was something different about him. There was almost a shyness about him when he was around you now and he would be ultra sensitive to you. He wouldn’t touch you for too long and never tried to make the first move when it came to anything intimate. All he would allow himself to do is cuddle you if you were lucky. You had a feeling he wasn’t feeding properly and was not his normal self. You wanted to bring it up and ask him but he wouldn’t let you ask it. He’d always deflect that he was feeling fine and end the conversation right there. As you started to feel back to normal, you missed being with him. You missed those feelings he’d give you when he made love to you.  
The longer this went on, the sadder your heart grew. Did he want to be near you anymore? Did he want you? Did he suddenly find you unattractive because of your scars?
You can only imagine what they must feel like to him and you wanted to talk to him about it. You couldn’t have him shut down again just when things got hard again. Frankly, you were tired of feeling like you couldn’t talk to him. You hated how he was so afraid to touch you and because of what happened, your relationship now had a riff. You didn’t want it that way. You wanted it back to the way it was and have him be his normal self around you. You were his, you were sure of that. There was no one else on this earth that you wanted to be with. You wanted to be with him forever. You came to realize, it didn’t scare you as much when it came to the thought of becoming a vampire one day. After knowing you almost lost your life and Elvis had to watch you in the hospital for all those days unconscious, you knew you had to tell him what you wanted. You needed to tell him you loved him and needed him forever. You’d want to talk to him about it, see if he’d open up to you about his feelings for you, and go from there. It was a huge step, one that would change both of your lives, but you were positive this was what you wanted.
You tried to get him alone to just talk, but his whole demeanor was nervous and anxious. He wouldn’t sit down next to you and would suddenly be whisked away to do something else. You had to show patience for him as he gave to you. After everything he’s confessed to you from wanting to feed from you the first day you worked for him or when he told you about being his Chosen, he gave you the honest truth, no matter how hard it was to hear. Now it was your turn, to be honest and tell him what you wanted when the time was right.
*
One Friday night, Elvis booked the Memphian Theater, not too far from Graceland for a private showing of any movies he wanted to watch. You learned he loved going to the movies late at night and you did too. He brought his usual crew with him but they let you and him sit in the back all alone. The first film he wanted to watch was Letter From an Unknown Woman, one of his favorites he revealed to you. 
He held your hand and you liked the small gesture. It was loving and sweet like he always was. You had seen this film a hundred times and you’re sure he had too. You lean on him and place your other hand on the inside of his thigh. You could feel him tense up as you touched him, not having done that in a while he must have been shocked in a way. A little bit halfway through the film, you didn’t have the patience to sit here in the theater and wanted him alone in his bedroom. You wanted him to kiss you and touch you all over, making you feel something good again. It had been too long. You nuzzle your face into his neck, kissing and nipping softly at his skin. He grumbles as you do this, his body still ridged and not relaxed. Your hand roams up his thigh, finding his soft cock in his pants. 
“Can we get out of here please?” You ask sensually, lightly rubbing his length as you continue to kiss his neck. Butterflies swarmed in your tummy, feeling like this was the first time you were getting to touch him. 
He carefully pulls your hand off of him and pulls his neck away from you. You feel your heart sink, not understanding his somber attitude of late and why he won’t let you touch him.
“No honey, not right now. I can’t,” he grumbles and turns his attention back to the screen.
You never thought you could feel unwanted with him, but lately, that’s all you felt like. Barely looked at or barely touched. You really felt like he didn’t have the same feelings for you anymore. You can’t help but take this personally and tears well in your eyes. You put on your coat and make your way out of the theater.
One of the guys drives you back to the house and you rush inside and lock the bedroom door. You sob into your hands, feeling so stupid for all of this and how naive you could be. You felt pushed aside in every possible way. Maybe Raphael was right? Maybe it was true that this is what Elvis does. He gets bored of them quickly and will leave…
No, he said those things to hurt you. There wasn’t an ounce of truth in his words. There was some deep turmoil inside of Elvis that he wasn’t showing you and you needed to know the truth.
Elvis got back to the house a few minutes after you did and you were livid, waiting to confront him.
There was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. He had one of his arms stretched up on the door frame and the other with his hand on his hip. You can tell he was upset, his overall demeanor ticked off as he looked at you from the top of his sunglasses.
Sex dripped off of him looking like this.
Tempting every cell in your body to have him.
He looks so damn good it drove you nearly mad with his fitted slacks and his low buttoned shirt, exposing all his delicious skin to you.
“What the hell were you thinkin’? Why would you leave me?” He scowls.
“You were too busy with your damn movie I knew you didn’t care if I was around or not,” you spat. He pushes his way into the bedroom and gets inches away from you. His demeanor was strong and powerful and you couldn’t lie; it turned you on. You could feel the heat come off of him and the way his dangerous eyes looked at you sent shivers through you. 
“That’s not true, I wanted you there,” he says shortly, pointing his finger at you.
“Did you? Because all you’ve been doing is wanting to spend as little time alone with me as possible! Don’t deny that Elvis, you know it’s true,” you grumble.
“Now y/n I-,” he interjects but you cut him off.
“No! You can’t justify that. There has to be a reason why. There’s something you’re hiding from me I know it. What is it? I’ve been healthy for weeks now and you don’t dare to even touch me or look at me for too long,” you explain.
He takes off his glasses and his eyes are dark and intense, not saying anything to you still.
“Do you still want me? Do you have feelings for me? If there’s someone else then just say it,” you say trembling.
He lets out a frustrated sigh and picks you up swiftly, kicking the door closed behind him, and sitting you down on the edge of the bed firmly. You gasp at his sudden forceful nature searing through him as he looks at you dangerously.
“Goddamn it, stop. Of course, I want you still. It drives me fucking crazy all the time but I just…” he trails off.
“You what? What is it? I know seeing these marks on me isn’t easy but there’s something more to it, isn’t there?” You press, taking a closer look at his dark eyes. They were beginning to look very similar to how they looked in Vegas…
Hungry. 
“Why aren’t you feeding? What’s going on?” You ask. 
He grunts out loud, taking a few steps away from you. 
“No, I am… well, not exactly. I’m drinking from blood bags here and there but… I only want your blood. I’m sorry, I can’t help it. The way it calls out to me, it’s agonizing. And it makes me feel repulsive for not being able to control my thirst when you’ve been hurt for so long.”
“You should have told me…” you say weakly, “I would have let you take some in some way…” you trail off.
“No! I couldn’t hurt you more! There would be no pleasure in feeding myself to my heart’s content while you scream in agony. I heard your screams while Raphael fed on you, how much it hurt you. I can’t re-live something like that. It was awful y/n.”
He falls down to his knees, covering his face with his hands. You felt horrible for him, this struggle he had inside him for so long was because of what Raphael inflicted on you. The pain you experienced was something he also suffered from. 
That’s love, your brain screams. 
“There’s something I just can’t shake. Something else that keeps me mad at myself…” he sighs.
You hold your breath, unsure what he is going to reveal to you.
“What are you talking about?”
“When I found you, barely holding on and struggling to breathe… I wanted to turn you, make you into a vampire.” Your heart skips at the notion and you can’t speak.
“God, I wanted to bite you so bad y/n. Something so sinful awakened inside me and controlled every last thought I had as I tried to get you out of that house. This wild, unknown instinct swept over me and it made me so scared, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it by the time I got you to the hospital and I was sure the doctors had no idea what to do for this kind of situation. I thought for a split second, this was the only option to save you. But I didn’t think you would be able to survive the bite since you already had so little blood left in you.”
“I got you to the hospital in time and watched you lay there motionless for days. I was so afraid I was too late. And this deeply rooted selfishness inside me was screaming to turn you. To make you mine and get rid of these awful marks on your body. To not even give you a choice over your own soul… I’m disgusted at myself that I even dared to think that notion.”
You stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting such a confession. Your heart ached for him, so upset he’s been holding this back for so long. It explained so much.
“Then you woke up and I was just relieved you were okay and tried to push all those feelings aside… until I got you home and I saw for the first time how bad the damage really was, how much pain you were in… that’s when I thought, maybe I should turn her? I can put her out of her misery and get her in perfect health. I thought it was bad enough I want your blood but to want, no, need to turn you? This was a whole new level the monster brought out in me. Every time we’ve been alone, I am fighting the need to fuck you senseless and sink my teeth into you.”
“Fuck, I miss the way you taste and I haven’t been feeding because of all this guilt I carry within me but only your blood is what I crave. Just any won’t do. I’m afraid if we’re alone for too long… I won’t be able to control myself and I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you y/n, it will kill me inside,” He tries to justify.
Your brain feels like it's in a drunken fog, you can’t breathe normally.
“You know I trust you. There’s nothing that’s going to change that, ever,” you whimper.
He looks at you in shock, not believing what just passed between your lips.
“What? Did you just hear anything I said? You should not have that much faith in me,” He growls.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry you’ve felt like that but I wished you told me sooner… maybe I could have helped you or done something,” you explain. “I thought you hated me…”
“I don’t baby, I’m sorry I made you feel like that… but it’s hard to trust myself fully… not after the terrible thoughts I’ve had playing in my mind. I can’t turn you out of pure selfishness,” he grovels. You understood where he was coming from, to give someone no choice over their fate is a lot to bear, but you didn’t see it that way at all.
“Honey listen. If I woke up and you told me you had to turn me in fear of losing me forever, I would understand. I would be thankful I had a second chance on life that you gave me. I wouldn’t have thought you were being selfish.” You say shyly.
“Really?” He says shakily.
“Yes, I understand why you might think it’s selfish because you barely had the choice to decide if you wanted to become a vampire and you hated the newfound life you had. You were thrown into this new world with no one else to help you. You grew to hate Raphael and what he did because he wasn’t a good man. Everything he did was from a hateful place. That’s not how I would feel if you turned me though. If I woke up and was changed, I’d be thankful I had you and couldn’t wait to start the next chapter of my life,” you confess, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. 
A small smile forms on his face and you blush. His gaze doesn’t falter and he stands back up caressing your face softly, shaking his head slightly. 
“You’re too good. Your soul is too pure to be with me. Always seeing past the bad of a situation.” He pauses, memorizing every detail on your face. Both of your breaths are shallow and the tension is thick. 
“Baby?” He asks, making sure he has your attention. You look in his beautiful eyes and smile. You nod at him, tracing his lip with your finger.
“Yes?”
“I love you, honey, more than life itself. I want you always. I could never live this life with anyone else. I’ve never felt like this for anyone. Please forgive me for any ill sentiments I’ve had. I love you so much and have for quite some time.” He confesses. Your heart flutters and you can’t believe your ears. 
He loves you. 
“I love you too Elvis. I love you more than I have ever loved another being on this earth. I never thought I could love someone so much and have them be the only thing I care about, but I do. I want you forever, baby.” You confess breathlessly.
“Yeah, baby?” He says weakly.
“Yes. I want you and only you.” You confess.
He takes a sharp breath in and holds you in his arms, pure amazement shining through as he looks at you.
“Oh my God, I love you baby. I don’t think I can ever get tired of you saying those words to me. I was made to love you and only you,” he smiles at you, tangling his hand in your hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.
Fireworks explode in your mind as you feel his soft lips crash into yours. This was heaven at its finest, the way his needy touch wrangled you in for more and your body effortlessly responded to him. You missed this more than you realized and you know he did too. He breaks the kiss momentarily to look up at your face and smile at you.
“I missed your lips,” he grumbles, taking another long kiss. You can't help but moan into his mouth, missing how he felt too. Your hands clutched at his arms, needing him so much closer than he already is. You could sense he was needy too, the way his chest rose and fell and how he kissed you like he was dying for your lips to save him. You break the kiss momentarily to get something that’s been weighing on your mind too. He gets a bit flustered and backs away a bit from you.
“Was that too much honey? I’m sorry to get carried away,” he blushes.
“No, it’s not that honey. Trust me it’s more than welcomed. I just wanted to tell you something that’s been on my mind.” You pause, summoning the courage to continue. 
“I’ve done a lot of thinking since coming here, contemplating on my life and how it turned out. I’ve realized that I wouldn’t change any of it. That I would still want to be with you no matter what. I want you to turn me one day and be by your side forever.” you tell him. You reach for him to come closer and have him push against your body. 
“Really honey? You would let me turn you?” He asks.
“Yes, I will. I can’t live without you,” you confess. He can’t believe what he’s hearing and lets out a relieved sigh.
“I can’t live without you either. I love you so much honey,” he says, going in for another kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair and there’s more urgency in each kiss. You both are desperate for each other and every inch of you feels like it's on fire. The heat in between your legs grows and the need for him to touch your bare skin becomes unbearable.
You quickly take your lips off of him, “I know you can control yourself with me. I've shown you time and time again you can. I’m sorry you’ve felt like you couldn’t tell me any of this sooner,” You tell him. He nods his head, “I know, it was stupid of me. So stupid.” He says exasperated, kissing you again with so much need it’s suffocating. 
“I umm… I think I know when I want you to turn me…” you say insecurely.
“Oh okay, when honey?” He asks nervously. 
“My birthday, May 17th. I think that gives me plenty of time to soak in any human experiences I want to have before then.” You say jokingly.
He smirks at you, amused by your attitude. “Okay, baby. So a month? Are you sure that’s enough time? There’s no rush, you just tell me when. I want to give you every last human experience,” he assures you.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure” you smirk at him. You rub your hand along his face, feeling his smooth cold skin. You look at him longingly, feeling the heat in your core grow.
“I love you,” you whimper, kissing his forehead softly. He looks at you in awe and you both don’t say anything to each other. Just longingly stare at what’s in front of you. You know he can sense how your body is on fire for him, needing so much attention from him. 
“Baby, who’s in the house right now?” You ask. His eyebrows furrow and is confused by the question.
“Uhh… a couple of the guys are in the basement and the living room. Why?”
Your hand continues to trace over every inch of his face, memorizing every last detail.
“Because I don’t want them in the house tonight. I don’t want them to be able to hear the things want to do to you tonight,” you say coyly. His eyes shoot open wide and takes in a sharp breath. He slowly gets up and looks over you hungrily, in more ways than one.
“Oh…I’ll go tell them to leave,” he says before turning to the door. You bite your cheek and nod your head at him. The bedroom door closes and you run to the bathroom.
You wanted him to have you all night long, doing every last dirty thing he could think of. God you missed him. Every last inch of you missed how he kissed you and touched you and made you beg for more.
You look over your appearance in the mirror, giddy and happy with what he’s just confessed to you. You take off your clothes and leave on the red lace bra and panty set you have underneath. Running out of the bedroom, you get to the top of the staircase and see him closing the front door and locking it.
He turns around to see what you’re wearing and his jaw falls slack. A burst of confidence comes over you and you tauntingly walk down the stairs, ever so slowly, wanting him to look at you enviously. Even the way he looked tonight had you weak. Treading lightly down the stairs, you look over his perfect frame and how badly you want to tear his clothes off of him. You walk up to him and drag his hand down across the front of your body, cupping your breasts and making him follow your every move with his eyes. 
“Goddamn Mama, you look so good,” he says as he licks his lips sensually. 
You smirk at him and grab the collar of his shirt, pushing him against your needy body. 
“What was it exactly you had in mind tonight that the whole house needed to be cleared out?” He teases, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
“Well, a few things actually. I’ve had a lot of time to think what I wanted from you,” you say low. 
He hums amused, “And what have you wanted baby?” He asks as he pushes you into his hips firmly, feeling his length twitch in his pants. You bite your lip from keeping the moan you want to let out. 
You tauntingly push him away from you, looking up at his gorgeous face. 
“I’ve been needing you to take care of me and use that mouth to please me,” you say. 
“I can do that baby,” he says breathlessly. 
“Good. Come on,” you say, taking his hand and leading him through the house. You had explored the house by yourself a few times and wanted to take him to the basement. As you walk down the stairs, you glance over at him in the reflection of the mirrors that line the sides and ceiling of the stairwell. He looks over your backside and gently pulls a lock of hair that falls down the middle of your back. You smirk to yourself, still in denial you have him so in love with you. You pull him to the U-shaped couch and you take a seat in the middle of it, spreading your legs a bit as you look up at him.
“What we doin’ down here?” He teases.
“Shhh, take off your clothes for me,” you instruct, brushing your hair off your chest and making sure he’s looking at every inch of you. He smirks at you and nods his head. 
He peels his jacket off of him and you watch as his nimble fingers work off every button of his shirt. He drops that to the floor and then reaches for the button of his pants. You could see the outline of his hard cock and it made you wet just looking at it. He lets his pants fall to the floor and kicks them to the side. 
A pleased moan escapes your lips as you take in what you see, taking a deep breath before you begin to speak. 
“Mmm… you look damn good too. Come closer,” you tease him. “I want you on your knees, now,” you tell him, standing right in front of you. He nods at you in a daze and sinks down slowly, staring at your body in front of him.
You put your legs over his shoulder as your hand trails down slowly into your panties. He looks at you starved, not being able to hide the fact he’s desperate for you. You discover how wet you are and rub your bud softly, creating the utmost amount of friction that makes you feel good. 
“I’m so wet for you,” you groan. 
His heated stare intensifies, “Fuck, I know baby,” he breathes. 
“Here’s what I need you to do. I want you to use that tongue of yours and eat me. Make me come all over your mouth,” you instruct. He groans, liking the sound of that. “I can do that honey.”
You slip off your panties and reach for his arm, lifting his fingers to your mouth. You put two of his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, swirling your tongue around them to get them all wet. He cusses under his breath and his eyes plead for you. 
You put your legs back on his shoulder and guide his wet fingers to your folds. 
“I want these inside me too,” you tell him. He rubs his fingers through your folds and nods his head drunkenly. 
He can’t wait any longer and groans heavily as his two wet fingers spread your folds open. He leans down and begins to lick your folds, devouring your pussy. The moment his mouth is on you, you are a puddle. You hold onto a fist full of his hair as you feel your body weaken with every lick of his tongue. You could have sworn the last time he did this, it couldn’t get any better but now, you swear this is the best thing you’ve ever felt. 
He suckles at your clit, making the throbbing in your core grow more for him. He doesn’t need much direction, he knows just where you like it and responds to your body so effortlessly. Your hips grind into his face and he groans when he feels this. 
“Just like that baby,” you moan, pulling his hair tighter. He moans into you and works his tongue to your entrance, teasing and lapping there without entering inside. It was agonizing the way he’d give you so much yet not enough attention to your needy body. His thumb finds your aching bud and rubs it in circles as his tongue focuses on your core. You can feel the coil in your belly tighten and it won’t be long until you come apart. 
He suddenly stops to look up at you and the most devious smirk forms on his face. 
“Fuck baby you’re tasting so good. I’m going to keep you up all night,” he groans. Your heart leaps out of your chest and you moan his name. 
He keeps looking at you, drunk on your body. He suddenly slips his finger inside you, all the way to his knuckle. You moan out, not having had anything inside you for some time. His long finger teased and felt out your wet walls, making you want more. He can read your expressions like a book now and knows you want more. So he slips a second finger inside you, then, a third. You gasp and he pumps his fingers deep inside you and teases you the way you like. 
“Oh fuck, baby, yes. Yes right there,” you whimper. Your arousal drips down his fingers and his mouth is back on your clit, sucking and fucking you with his long digits. He moans more as he eats you, not getting enough of you. 
“Make me come, baby, please make me come,” you beg him. He obeys and curls his fingers deep inside of you, suckling your clit and that’s when you see blinding stars in your eyes. Your body shutters and your core clenches around his fingers. Your whole body feels warm and trembles under him. He takes his fingers out of you and licks at your entrance, thrusting his tongue inside you and making it hard to breathe. 
“So good baby. Oh my god,” you groan as he continues to lap at your folds. He makes these ungodly pent-up groans as he puts both of his hands on your hips, moving your body lower on the couch to eat you with more fervor. The way his mouth worshipped you made you ache for him. Your body shakes and you could have him do this all night. You pull back at his hair and make him look at you, slick covering his face.
“You did so good baby. Made me feel so good,” you say breathless, “Now it’s my turn. Sit down.”
He looks as though he wants to protest, but you don’t let him, you pull at his hair, making him groan. “Sit. Down,” you instruct.
He sits on the couch with his back against the pillows, his legs spread open, and his cock hard. You kneel in between his legs, taking his length in your hand and slowly start to jerk it. Your thumb gathers the slick precum around his head and spread it more along his shaft. He groans and closes his eyes as your hand works him. 
“Look at me,” you tell him. He does as he’s told and moans louder when he sees your intense gaze. 
“I want to suck on your cock baby. I wanna take as much as I can in my mouth and then, I’ll fuck you. Ride it how you like,” you tempt. 
Your other hand finds his heavy balls and you massage them in your hand, making him groan loudly. 
“Fuck mama, please. Put your mouth on me.” He begs, his hand reaching out to squeeze one of the pillows on the couch. 
You tease him with kisses first, getting inches away from his cock, but move somewhere else and repeat it over and over. He lets out the most frustrated groans as your hand moves along his shaft. You finally give in and swirl your tongue around his head. He lets out a pleased groan and cusses your name. 
“Fuck baby I’ve missed that mouth,” he sighs. You hum gently and take more of him in your mouth, sucking and licking the bottom of his shaft. Your other hand continues to massage his balls, making him buck into your mouth. You find his hand and bring it to the back of your head, making him grip a fist full of hair. You moan when you feel the pressure there and take more of him in your mouth. His body tenses up and you groan when you feel his length hit the back of your throat. 
“Goddamn baby, you’re killing me,” he groans through his teeth, pulling on your hair tighter. You slowly take his cock out of your mouth and suck at the tip of it, making eye contact with him.
“Oh I’m sorry, you want me to stop or take more?” you tease. He doesn’t say anything right away, just begs with his eyes. You wait for his answer, rubbing your thumb along his tip. He bucks his hips up as you play with his sensitive head over and over.
“Fuck, take more baby, give me more, please. Put my cock down your throat,” he pleads. Your core squeezes at the sound of his words and you bite your lip at him. 
“Okay, help me take more then,” you insinuate. He takes a deep breath and looks down at you hungrily.
You tremble a bit, wrapping your lips around him once more, and move faster on him, taking his long length deep inside your mouth. He moans your name loudly, his hips moving with each thrust of your mouth, helping you take more of him. You can feel your arousal leak out of you and down the side of your thigh. You squeeze your legs together, hoping that would stop the throbbing so you can focus on him more. But it doesn’t and you just have to suffer through it. 
You relax your jaw and let his cock fuck your throat, taking as much of his length as you can. His hand finds your hair again and cusses your name, thrusting up into you. You want to crumble right there at how he says your name and grunts as his cock is stuffed in your throat. The way he sounded was so unbelievably hot and erotic. Your hand finds your folds and you slowly rub your clit, sending a shockwave through you. You let out a guttural moan as your fingers work on you and send a vibration through him. He gasps as you move faster on him, wanting him to come. You can feel his body tense up, unable to hold back anymore. Your tongue works the underside of his shaft and his hips stutter into you, feeling his cock pulse and pour his hot seed down your throat. You moan as he finishes, loving that you’ve made him feel this good.
“Ah fuck baby, yes. Oh God yesss,” he whimpers, thrusting a few more times into you as the last bit of seed comes out of him. 
You slowly pull him out of your mouth, making sure he watches you swallow everything he poured into you. He groans when he sees you swallow, giving him a slight smirk when you do so. You go back to tease his head, licking every so gently but knowing he is sensitive from his release. He gasps as he feels your tongue back on him.
“Oh mama, no. Too sensitive,” he whimpers. You don’t listen though, you keep teasing, liking to hear the different moans and whimpers you get out of him. He tries to squirm out of your grasp, sitting up straighter on the couch. 
You stop momentarily, looking at him with a smug grin on your face. You straddle his hips, taking his length in your hand and lining him up to your entrance. He was still a bit hard so you knew he’d get inside you with ease. You slowly sink down on him, your wetness covering his cock completely. He whimpers in agony, looking at you shocked.
“This better baby? Don’t you like it when my pussy squeezes around you,” you taunt with a roll of your hips. He lets his head fall back onto the couch, breathing heavily and groaning.
“Fuck… Fuck you’re killing me.” He groans. You roll your hips once again and he shoots his head up to look at you. 
“Don’t lie to me, baby. I know you love this,” you groan into his ear. He nods his head at you, clutching onto your body tight.
“Yes, you feel so good. Agh ride me please,” he moans deeply. You rock your hips slowly on him, taking only a few inches at a time. You make his head tilt up to the mirrored ceiling, “Watch how I ride you. Watch how I like to ride your cock.” You groan, slowly moving up and down on him. You lean away from his body and place your hands on his chest. 
You could feel his length getting hard again inside you, filling you even better than before. You watch as he keeps his eyes open as you slowly fuck him. He looks so perfect like his, being so submissive to you and completely at your mercy. You look over his body, seeing how there’s this vein that bulges out of his neck when you ride him faster and he’s trying not to come again. Pulling his hair swiftly, he shoots his eyes open and looks at you intently. You kiss him passionately, your tongue tangling with his and moaning deeply. He smiles between kisses and you pull away slightly, watching his dark hungry eyes get even darker.
“Feed baby. I want you to take a bite,” you coo. He stills and looks at you shocked.
“Honey, but I-,” he tries to say but you cut him off.
“No buts. You need it,” you tell him. You take his hand and make his fingers trace the top of your shoulder where it meets your neck. “Bite right here. I want you to feel good baby,” you coo. 
This time, he doesn’t need to be told twice as he places his hand on the back of your head and pulls you in, kissing up and down your neck. You sink down on the rest of his length and grind at the base of his cock, pulling his body flush to yours. He hisses and nips at your neck, grumbling to himself.
“Are you really gonna ride me as I do this? Such a naughty fucking girl,” he growls, pushing his hips up into you. Your heart starts to hammer away in your chest and you want him more than you ever have.
You gasp at how good he feels and you hold onto his shoulders tight, wrapping your arms around his neck and your fingers intertwining in his hair. You hear his breathing pick up and he starts to growl. You know his fangs have descended and is ready. Your hips roll onto him and you let out a breathy sigh, “Please,” you beg.
He holds you tight and sinks his teeth into you, groaning as he does so. You can tell he was trying to be gentle and not hurt you too much. His sharp fangs stung when they entered your skin but by no means felt like how you were bitten before by Raphael or Daniel. You swivel your hips and a new pleasurable sensation floods your mind and body. He felt so good like this. You feel his tongue dance on your skin, lapping at your blood seeping out of you. He moans as he tastes you, pushing his cock in and out of you ever so slowly. 
“Fuck baby yes, just like that,” you groan, pushing the back of his head into your neck more. You feel him suck harder on you, drinking more of your blood. His hands move to the front of your body and they find your breasts, squeezing them firmly. You close your eyes, letting all these sensations take over your body. You fuck him harder, feeling the heat in your belly roar for more. Gasping and groaning for him, you feel his hands wander to your hips now, stilling you as he fills you to the hilt. You gasp, not having had him do this to you in such a long time. It felt like he was going to break you in two with his cock.
He gently starts to take his mouth off of you, licking at the remaining blood coming out of the wound. He looks at you in the eye and gives you a mischievous little grin, his blue eyes emerging and red disappearing.
“Oh baby,” he growls, “Such a fucking dirty girl. Liking to be fucked and fed from hmm?” He groans. 
You take a short breath, trying to focus on him and not how his cock is completely ruining you.
“Y-yes baby. I like it a lot,” you whimper, feeling the mood of the room shift completely.
He tsks his tongue disapprovingly, “What am I to do with you? Maybe I should keep ruining you all night,” he says darkly.
“Y-y-yes… please,” you breathe. He hums softly and picks you off of him.
“You’re gonna be a good little girl for daddy? I listened to you, now you need to listen to me,” he groans in your ear. You nod quickly and hold onto him tightly.
He takes your hand and leads you back up the stairs to his bedroom. 
“Get on the bed baby, on your back,” he commands, his eyes serious and domineering. Your heart pounded in your ears, unable to function properly with how he was looking at you.
He grows impatient, not liking how you’re not listening to him.
“I thought you said you’d listen,” he says gruffly, giving your ass a swift spank. 
“Sorry Daddy,” you whimper, biting your lip and slowly turning around to crawl onto the bed. You lay down and your hands trail over your breasts, making sure he’s looking at you.
He smugly smiles at you, plotting what he wants from you next. 
“Open those pretty legs for me, baby,” he says, taking his cock in his hand. Your slick still covered his shaft and made a wet, sloppy sonance as he rubbed himself. You moan inwardly as it drove you crazy, wishing he would just take you now. But no, he wanted to play with you.
You part your legs a bit, staring up at him patiently, knowing this isn’t what he wants from you. He looks at you disapprovingly.
“Come on baby, am I going to have to put you in the position I want you, or you gonna be a good girl and do it for me?” He grumbles.
“I’ll be good, but I want your hands to do the work,” you retort. He bites his lip, gets on the bed, and pushes your legs wide apart.
“You’re just begging to be ruined aren’t ya?” He says as he gets in between your legs and his thumb finds your clit, “You want me to fuck you til the sun comes up and make you beg for more is that it?” He growls.
“Mhmm… I know you want that too,” you moan as he plays with you, making your whole body turn aflame. He pushes your legs up, closer to your chest, and holds them there.
“Fine baby, I’ll ruin this little pussy all night,” he says taking his length in his hand. He rubs his cock through your wet folds, making you moan with need. He sighs when he does this too, looking at how much your body aches for him.
“Look how wet you are for me, dying to have me fuck you,” you groan as his tip teases your entrance. You gasp when you realize you’re more sensitive than you thought.
“Yes, Elvis, please fuck me,” you beg.
In one swift motion, he thrusts his length inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. He moved in long rolling thrusts, making sure you felt every inch of him go inside of you. He can’t help but cuss when he’s deep inside you, moaning how good you feel. His hands grab onto your thighs, squeezing them tightly as he pounds into you faster. 
You writhe underneath him, unable to look at him above you for too long. With the way he was taking you, you knew it wouldn’t be long til you came undone. His hand slithers to your throat, making your eyes pop back open to look at him.
“Let me see those pretty eyes baby. Let me watch how much you like this,” he says with a snap of his hips. You groan in agony, staring into his lust-filled blue eyes. His gaze was so intense, too much to handle for a poor human. You can’t help but moan his name, watching how a smirk would form on his face when you said it.
“So good Daddy, feels so good,” you gasp out. 
“I know mama I know, taking me so good,” he breathes. Your eyes trail down to see where you two are meeting, watching how each thrust of his hips makes you more wet. Your arousal gathers at the base of his cock in a sticky puddle and groan louder, overwhelmed with everything that you’re feeling and seeing.
You can’t seem to stop moaning for him, cursing his name, or crying out for him to keep going. Thank God no one was in the house, it was a good decision to make after all.
His hand caresses your face, turning your full attention back to him.
“I know baby, I won’t stop. You feel too good to stop now. So fucking wet and tight for me,” your eyes roll back at his words and groan loudly. You feel his fingers press against your lips and you instinctually open them for him to put them in your mouth.
“Suck on these baby, shhh nice and quiet. Listen to how wet you are when I fuck you,” he groans. You feel your heart thump out of control and suck on his fingers, trying to stay quiet but know this is pure torture.
He moves slowly again, making slow, wet sounds come out of you. You grab onto his wrist, squeezing it tightly as his hips move faster into you and make the most obscene sounds come out of your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the coil in your belly about to snap any second. Your walls begin to flutter and you look up at Elvis with pleading eyes. He keeps you in his gaze, not letting you come just yet. He wanted you to beg for it. He fucks you harder, watching how you writhe underneath him for your release. You whimper for him, begging with your eyes to have him let you finish.
“Goddamn baby, being so good. I know you wanna come now. Come for me,” he coos, taking his fingers out of your mouth and rubbing your clit as he grunts deeply.
You see stars in your vision once more and cry out his name, your core squeezing around him. He cusses under his breath and moans loudly. It all felt so intense like it was the first time all over again. His thrusts become ragged and sporadic as he groans your name and comes inside you. You feel how much he’s come, filling you with it and gasping for breath. You feel light and exhausted at the same time. Nothing can give you the same feelings Elvis gives you. He swivels his hips lazily while he’s still inside you, making you squirm with how sensitive you are. You gasp for air and try to calm down your frantic breathing as his cock still stuffs you. God, you don’t understand how he drives you this crazy but you’ll never get enough of him.
He hums softly to himself and kisses you deeply, breathing in and taking in your scent. 
“Mine,” he growls into your mouth.
“Yours,” you whimper back, kissing him with need.
He lets go of your legs and lets you wrap them around his torso, keeping you two pieced together. He quickly breaks the kiss and smiles at you, brushing back the hair that’s fallen on your face.
“Say it again for me,” he begs. You smirk at him, not needing to ask what he’s referencing.
“I love you,” you whisper. He kisses your cheek and you can feel his lips turn into a smile.
“Again,” he moans.
“I love you,” you whimper. He moves down to your neck, kissing and nipping there.
“Again baby,” he whines.
“I love you, baby.” 
“Forever?” He asks.
“Forever.”
*
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Tagging:
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