#i’m really nervous about posting for the first time in years

[reiding-writing]

Heyy i was wondering if i could have a workshop session? Also congrats on reaching 2k i literally lovee your posts.

So i had this idea about early season spencer and a movie director reader, so basically sorta like the episode with lila archer except reader is really famous and makes mostly sci-fi movies or something spencer would watch, and someone on her set is a witness for a crime or connected to one and now that they dissapeared the BAU sent spencer and maybe derek to ask reader about what they know. But spencer is lowkey kind of silently fan girling lmao like when he first met rossi. I hope this idea isn't too cringe but its just something i thought of, and also its like 3am so my brain isn't functioning properly. Anyways thank yeww

STARstruck — SPENCER REID!

Spencer is a nerd who appreciates accurate scientific knowledge in the media he consumes, and you, are his literal idol in that aspect.

s1!spencer x fem!director!reader | 1.2k | fluff | 2k book fayre !!

a/n — this idea is so cute bro i love it

main masterlist. | event masterlist.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the towering glass windows of the Hollywood studio, casting a golden glow over the sleek set design.

Cameras, lighting rigs, and intricate models of spaceships and futuristic cities filled the massive room, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and slightly burnt popcorn lingered in the air.

Spencer took a deep breath as he stepped onto the set, eyes wide with a mix of awe and nervous excitement.

“You okay, pretty boy?” Morgan smirked as he nudged Spencer in the arm. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Spencer quickly adjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder, fiddling with the leather strap. “I’m fine,” He mumbled, although his gaze kept drifting toward the bustling crew members setting up for the next scene.

It wasn’t just the high-tech equipment that caught his attention; it was the fact that you was somewhere on this set. A literal legend in the movie world who had created some of Spencer's favourite films, the mind behind the intricate worlds he had spent years analysing and rewatching.

Not just a famous director, but one of the most influential minds in science fiction cinema, with a literal PhD in theoretical astrophysics, your movies weren’t just blockbusters—they were intellectually stimulating.

Films layered with complex theories of time travel, quantum physics, and human evolution. Spencer had spent hours after screenings debating the logic behind your plot twists, tracing your influences back to classic literature and obscure scientific studies.

He might have even written a paper about your work for one of his side projects.

Maybe.

“Alright, fanboy, whatever you say,” Morgan chuckled, clearly noticing the star-struck look on Spencer’s face. “We’re here for business, remember? We need to talk to her about the missing witness.”

Right. The reason they were actually here. One of the set designers from your latest film had disappeared. They had been linked to a crime scene across town, and now the BAU was trying to piece together their whereabouts.

As the two made their way past towering green screens and actors in elaborate futuristic costumes, Spencer’s heart rate quickened. There you were, standing near the director's chair, deep in conversation with a producer.

Morgan was the one to actually call your attention, flashing his FBI badge. “Excuse me, Doctor, I’m Agent Derek Morgan, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we’re with the FBI.”

Your eyes widen momentarily, before settling in understanding. “Pleasure to meet you both,” You motion for the two to follow you away from the busy set for the impending conversation.

Spencer tried to find his voice, but it was like his brain had short-circuited the moment you looked at him. The woman who had crafted entire galaxies and explored the intricacies of human consciousness in film now actually knew he existed.

“I—uh—” He stammered, glancing at the wall behind you before meeting your eyes. “I just wanted to say I’ve been a huge fan of your work for years. Your understanding of nonlinear time theory in Chrono Rift was... incredible—”

Morgan’s grin widened, and Spencer could feel his cheeks burning. He was not making a good first impression.

You, however, smiled warmly, your expression softening. “Thank you, Dr. Reid. It’s always nice to meet someone who appreciates the science behind the ‘science-fiction’.”

The way his eyes seem to soften in the wake of your thanks is endearing, matched with a pink flush to behind his glasses he attempts to brush a stubborn lick of hair from his eye.

It’s a natural attractiveness, one that’s sweet and a little awkward.

“But I assume you didn’t come here just to talk about quantum mechanics?”

Spencer cleared his throat, refocusing on the case. “Right, yes uh— We’re trying to locate one of your set designers, Adrian Moss. We believe they may have been involved with a recent crime, and they disappeared shortly after. Did Adrian mention anything unusual to you? Anyone they seemed nervous around?”

Your brows furrowed slightly in concern. “Adrian? No, they seemed fine. A little… distracted maybe, but I thought it was just the stress of the shoot. I had no idea they were involved in anything criminal.”

Morgan took over to save himself the second-hand embarrassment of Spencer’s stammering, smoothly steering the conversation. “Is there anyone on set Adrian might’ve had conflicts with? Or someone who seemed to be paying them too much attention?”

You paused, considering the question. “Not that I can think of, but I can ask around. The crew is like a family you know? People talk— if Adrian was in trouble, someone will have noticed.”

As the conversation continued, Spencer slowly found his footing again, chiming in with more questions about Adrian’s behavior and their role on set. But every now and then, his mind drifted to the fact that he was standing in the presence of one of his idols. And not only were you brilliant, but you were also kind.

After wrapping up their questions, you pulled out a small business card, handing it towards Morgan. “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’ll make sure the crew knows to cooperate fully with your investigation,”

Morgan pocketed the card with a small nod. “Thanks for your help. We’ll be in touch.”

As they turned to leave, you called out, “Oh, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer froze, turning back to face you. He genuinely felt like he might explode.

“If you ever want to debate time travel paradoxes or poke holes in my logic, I’d be happy to grab a coffee sometime.”

Spencer’s brain went blank for a second, and all he managed was a stunned, “Uh, yeah! I mean—yes, that sounds great.”

With a smile, you waved them off, returning to your work.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Derek clapped Spencer on the back, laughing. “I’ve never seen you like this, man. Fanboying over a director? That’s a new one.”

Spencer gave him a sheepish grin, although not one that tries to dispel his accusation. “She’s not just a director, Morgan. She’s a genius.”

“Well, genius, genius or not, you might actually have a shot there. But let’s focus on finding this missing designer before you start planning your first date.”

Spencer chuckled, still a little dazed but ready to get back to work. He couldn’t help but feel that, no matter how this case turned out, his emotional outcome was going to be a net positive.

[ahoplessromanticsjournal]

Untitled - Polin

Lord Ashwyn is an OC (i have no idea where i got this name from so if it’s from something else i genuinely have no clue and would love to be reminded lol)

Written with book more in mind, but also has obvious show references i think

Disclaimer: all rights reserved, i used to write all the time but i haven’t in ages but i felt *inspired* and decided to have a go at it…apologies for any mistakes i wrote this at 2am a few nights ago and wasn’t really trying for perfect accuracy 😅

been struggling trying to figure out if i should make it longer or leave it as it is…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miss Featherington, you look rather lovely tonight.” Pen smiled at the man over her glass. Pulling it away from her already stained lips, she nodded to the man and turned around to face the new season. She wasn’t looking for a husband anymore, no one would have her anyway. She was simply here to work (although no one else knew that of course). No need to be kind to those who weren’t kind to her before. Even if she did change her dresses and her hair, it wasn’t *only* for that small glimmer of hope she was holding out on.

She felt eyes on her and turned her head slightly to see the same man as before staring at her from the other side of the refreshments table. She knew he’d been staring at her now for scandalously too long. She did the only thing she could think of then and decided to try and scare him off.

“If you keep looking at me like that, Lord Ashwyn; everyone here will think you’d like to eat me.” Penelope said it as a jest. Just a simple joke to make him slightly uncomfortable so she could go back to slowly dancing around the perimeter of the room and to hopefully get this “gentleman” to leave her alone. She had stopped by the refreshments table just to give her hands something to do while her eyes wandered and her ears strained to listen. While browsing the crowd as she always does, she did, in fact, observe someone observing *her*. ‘Which, Pen had thought to herself, is what probably landed herself in this very unfortunate situation.

“I am considering it.” Lord Ashwyn mumbled drunkenly. This whole conversation was improper; let alone the fact that this particular gentleman didn’t seem to remember the “Only-Two-Glasses-Per-Person” societal rule. Quite obviously.

She eyed him, giving the most likely self-proclaimed “gentleman” her best, most unimpressed look. She was about to just simply walk away from him when he started speaking once more, ”Should you like to dance tonight, Miss Featherington? Maybe we can discuss all the ways in which a man can *devour* a woman.”, Penelope almost couldn’t believe her own ears. Obviously she already knew all the ways in which a woman could be pleased, at her age of eight and twenty; she had paid off a maid with Eloise Bridgerton, but the blunt openness of this “Gentleman”! He had to be intoxicated some great deal. Regardless, Penelope was now more eager than ever to somehow find an escape.

It would be harder than she now thought originally though, with him having asked for her hand in a dance. In society it was proper to never deny a dance if one’s dance card was not already full or if you’re not otherwise occupied. Pen is a known spinster which makes it all the more a pain to rid herself of this seasons leftovers. She scolded herself silently, fore if she was not one for a social gathering (and general society says she shouldn’t be) she may not have found herself in her current situation.

“Miss Featherington?”

“Yes, Lord Ashwyn, my apologies. It’s just that i believe i misheard you-“

“I assure you…” He slurred slightly on his s’s while holding a hand out to her,” You did not mishear me. I asked for you hand in dance”

There are not many times when Penelope Featherington is shocked into silence but this was, for certain, one of those rare occasions. She took a small but noticeable step back and hesitated. She ran through ideas on how to tell this man off without causing a scene or worse; a scandle; but couldn’t come up with any on time. The next song began to play and before she knew it she was being whisked around by Lord Ashwyn.

She hated every painstaking second of it. She hated the way he spoke, hated how obviously drunk he was, hated how he would whisper naughty things to her when he could. Who or what exactly did this man take her for? A rake herself? A desperate? A woman who threw herself at anyone who would give her attention? She didn’t even try to hide her facial expressions. She decided it would be best to just get this over with and then maybe retire for the night, in whole.

She allowed herself to fixate on the music. Allowed it to take over her mind and let her mussel memory do the talking; or well, dancing. She ignored his comments, ignored his wandering hands, ignored the faces that looked at her with pity, disgust, confusion, and everything in between. Once the song was over she’d be free to slip away and never be seen for the rest of the dreaded evening.

“Pardon me.”

Penelope was in the middle of spinning when the interruption happened. In her daze she tumbled backwards slightly and a hand caught her on the shoulder. Coming back to her senses she turned around to apologize to the victim of her off balance dancing, “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you-Colin?! -I mean- Mr. Bridgerton!? What are you doing here?”

There looking magnificent as always was him. Colin Bridgerton. Definitely not the one she’s holding out hope for. Nope. Not him. Not the man who first; told everyone who would listen he’d “never court Penelope Featherington” and then after she forgave him said to her face that they were just friends. Not the man who she begged to kiss her out of desperation and fear of dying without ever having felt a kiss. No not that man. She had told him she was done with his lessons. Done with trying to find a husband. Done with hoping someone out there would love her how she wants. So what did he want and what was he doing there?

“How shocked you are to see me. What am i doing here? At a ball? Miss Featherington, I think all that twirling made your mind twirl as well.” Colin’s hand was still on her shoulder holding her back to his chest. It felt almost like protective armor; his hand. His chest.

“Pardon me, Lord Ashwyn. But i must speak to Miss Featherington. It’s an urgent matter.”

“I do not-“ Penelope began.

“Do you wish to keep dancing with a man who is blatantly trying to get under your dress skirt?”, Colin had leaned down to her ear level and whispered it.

“Whatever you are saying to her, you may say in front of me, Bridgerton.”

“I said, “do you want to keep dancing with a man who is blatantly trying to hold his drunkenness together.”

“Now-“ Lord Ashwyn seemed to sober up a little at being loudly exposed by another man. He stood straighter and puffed out his chest a little. It almost made Penelope laugh. Lord Ashwyn looked to Penelope with his hand out,” I should like to finish our dance.”

“I think i shall go speak with Mr. Bridgerton. It seems quite serious. Lord Ashwyn.” She curtsied and walked away as quickly but as not noticeably as she could. She knew *he* was hot on her tail though. She could feel his presence. Feel the endless oceans of his eyes as she tried to get away. That deep blue was getting closer and she didn’t know what was about to happen. She could feel it though, she was about to either sink or swim, and this was going to be the deciding moment.

Once he caught her.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[lukesaprince]

The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you. 

“Go on Tinder dates.” 

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything. 

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed. 

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away. 

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh. 

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea. 

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore. 

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more. 

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night. 

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards. 

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

//

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships. 

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased. 

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now. 

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question. 

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together. 

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least. 

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

//

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry. 

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking. 

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right? 

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome. 

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence. 

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so. 

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…” 

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life. 

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage. 

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you. 

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty. 

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did. 

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man. 

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on. 

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores. 

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual. 

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate. 

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn��t an innocent kiss that’s for sure. 

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth. 

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait. 

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke. 

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.” 

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway. 

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” 

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house. 

You could see yourself being very comfortable here. 

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date. 

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this. 

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating. 

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man. 

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day. 

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is. 

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you? 

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts. 

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to. 

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table. 

“They are.” You defended. 

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face. 

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else. 

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him. 

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?” 

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon. 

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?” 

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you. 

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones. 

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic. 

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up. 

“What?” You chuckled. 

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.” 

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently. 

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy. 

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe. 

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck. 

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now. 

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap. 

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.  

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again. 

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands. 

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table. 

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too. 

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans. 

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could. 

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so. 

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face. 

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done. 

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out. 

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it.  “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth. 

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you. 

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.” 

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could. 

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body. 

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it. 

“That can be arranged.” 

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless. 

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear. 

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out. 

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him. 

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit. 

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire. 

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.” 

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth. 

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.” 

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more. 

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous. 

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received. 

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth. 

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling. 

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him. 

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours. 

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband. 

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.” 

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you. 

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table. 

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him. 

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately. 

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you. 

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist. 

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy. 

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene. 

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling? 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again. 

Starting with tonight. 

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch. 

“Yeah” 

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek. 

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air. 

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again. 

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved. 

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.” 

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close. 

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way. 

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny. 

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh. 

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick. 

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him. 

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you. 

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him. 

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious. 

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down. 

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards. 

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms. 

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.” 

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom. 

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind. 

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue. 

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself. 

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue. 

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down. 

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat. 

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.” 

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. 

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now. 

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?” 

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle. 

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.” 

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue. 

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.” 

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum. 

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you. 

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it. 

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever. 

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion. 

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more. 

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over. 

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going. 

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.” 

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Tag List: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @gurugirl @hsonlyangelxo @kkr102 @falloutby

@caynonmoondreams @theskyyabove @sykostyles @harryslittlefreakk @avaaas-world

@littlenatilda @grabiolla @forgetdelaney @hislcstyles @yourdatcrazyweirdo

@elidoho @esnyhoney @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @lillefroe @harrysrockstarsgf

@hrrypinks @justlemmeadoreyou @swagg13r @whatamievendoingonhere @delicatepointofharry

@onlyangellucifer @youcan-nolonger-run @gotdrxnkonu @cheappackofcigerattes @idrawshapesonpeople07

@straightontilmornin @mellamolayla @stilesissaved @ribbonknives @scndsofsummer

@floral-recs @styles.sturniolo @maryjahps @babyfratelli7 @voniikg

@complikyfreak @tswiftsgf @triski73 @michellekstyles @freedomfireflies @tiredinwinter @butdaddyilovehim-hs

*please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged ❤️*

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! 🤍

[incognit0slut]

Crawling back to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up

Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?

You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.

The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.

You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.

But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.

And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.

You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.

But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.

You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.

So you ran away.

Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.

"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”

You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?

There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”

JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”

There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.

"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."

Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”

“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”

God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”

His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.

“I always want to see you.”

You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.

You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"

JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."

You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"

"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.

You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”

Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.

“I was,” he says softly.

There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”

“But now I don’t want to.”

There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.

You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.

But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.

Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.

His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”

Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”

“You’re even prettier than I remember.”

The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.

“Spencer. Don’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”

You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”

"What have you been up to?"

"Work."

"Anything new?"

"No."

He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"

You frown. “Huh?”

“Girlfriend?”

"Spencer."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Spencer."

He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."

“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”

His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.

He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”

“You look funny.”

A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”

“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”

"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”

You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."

"I ran through the sprinklers."

The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?

“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"

You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.

He wasn’t alone.

You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat… jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.

"It's not what you think," he slowly says.

You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."

"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”

“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”

You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”

You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.

You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.

He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”

You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”

“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can’t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.

You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”

"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."

You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.

"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."

The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.

Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?

You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?

Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything

You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.

Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.

He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.

At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.

A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.

You reach for the bottle of wine instead.

The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.

You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.

You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.

You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”

He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”

You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.

“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”

He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”

"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.

"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”

“Which isn’t necessary.”

“But appreciated, I hope.”

You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.

You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”

He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."

You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"

You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”

"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"

“I remember."

His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”

You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”

"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."

"I really wanted kimchi."

"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”

You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"

He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”

“That you’re craving for Korean?”

He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”

There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”

His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”

“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”

You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”

The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”

His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.

“I could never hate you."

You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”

He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”

If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?

You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.

“You know it’s never going to work.”

He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”

“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”

“How did we function?”

“Based on sex.”

“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”

“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."

“Why not?”

“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.

“Because the idea still terrifies you?”

You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”

The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”

"Oh I can name a few."

He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.

"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"

“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”

"You really think you can convince me?"

"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"

That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”

You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”

“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”

"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”

His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.

“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”

"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”

His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.

"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.

You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.

“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”

You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."

"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.

You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."

There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"

You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"

“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"

“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”

“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”

“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”

He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”

“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”

His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"

He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.

“But what if it does?”

All you can do is stare at him.

“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”

His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.

And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.

And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"

Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.

You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”

You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.

His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.

The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.

This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.

There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.

Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.

He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.

Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”

His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”

He pauses for a moment. “Really?”

“If you want to.”

A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”

You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.

“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.

“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”

“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”

His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"

In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.

Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.

You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.

"Maybe."

His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”

You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.

You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.

“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”

You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”

He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.

“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.

You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.

It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.

“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.

“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?

Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.

There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.

He kisses the spot between your breasts.

“You’re always so pretty.”

He gives a soft peck just above your heart.

“So incredibly beautiful.”

Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.

He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.

He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.

Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”

He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”

You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”

You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”

He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”

Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.

It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?

He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”

He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”

He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”

“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”

You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”

“Then you’ll have me.”

You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.

There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.

You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.

And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.

You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”

"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.

Your grip in his hair tightens.

“Spencer…”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.

Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.

“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”

It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”

He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”

“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”

The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”

“Even up to a thousand?”

“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”

You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”

A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?

And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?

You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”

He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.

Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.

The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.

It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”

“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”

He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.

He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”

You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.

"Wait."

Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"

His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”

Shit. Neither did you.

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”

“I was too focused with you."

And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”

“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”

“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”

He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”

“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”

He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”

“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”

“Pretty sure?”

You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”

The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”

“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”

He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”

An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”

You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”

He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.

Your walls squeeze around him.

“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”

You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”

He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.

“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.

Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.

“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”

You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”

“Do you think I can move?”

“Please.”

There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.

And truthfully, neither can you.

But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.

It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.

No more running away, you decide.

“Kiss me.”

He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.

“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”

You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.

“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.

He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”

You whine in approval.

The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.

You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”

He’s more than happy to oblige.

He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.

“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”

You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”

It’s enough to push you both over the edge.

The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.

Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.

He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.

You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.

“What?”

His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”

Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”

"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"

You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”

He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."

“And that makes you what, exactly?”

“Essentially indispensable.”

“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”

A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”

You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”

He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.

Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.

You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.

You quickly turn over to the other side.

“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”

He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”

That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”

You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”

“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.

“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”

When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.

Until now, maybe.

“Do you think I should climb out the window?”

You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”

“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”

You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”

“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”

You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"

Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.

But it's not your brother.

It's far worse.

You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.

“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”

You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.

“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."

The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”

Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”

But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Shit.”

“I should have climbed out the window.”

The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."

You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.

That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.

“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”

He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“​

Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.

“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”

He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.

You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.

“Please don’t be mad.”

You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.

“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.

“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”

“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”

“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”

“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.

“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”

You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.

He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.

“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”

“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”

“Clearly,” he deadpans. You put on the best innocent face you can muster.

You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.

“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”

To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.

“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”

Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.

You clear your throat. “Last night.”

"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"

"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."

“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”

“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.

“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”

Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”

Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”

You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.

“It’s what I want.”

Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”

“In a good way?”

“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”

“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”

Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.

You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”

Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.

“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”

You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.

You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.

And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—

“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”

If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.

Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”

You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”

He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.

“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.

“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.

“It wasn’t.”

“Spencer, he held a gun.”

“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”

“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”

“He likes me.”

He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”

He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”

“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”

“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.”

“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”

“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what makes you so sure?”

Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.

“Because I’m your mushroom.”

He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.

And you don’t mind him keeping it.

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 

Or to you. 

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 

Sunghoon cries again. 

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 

“I didn’t.” 

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 

“What?” 

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 

You don’t respond. 

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 

“The longest of my life.” 

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 

“Deal.” 

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?” 

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.” 

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.” 

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 

“Tell me.” 

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 

Oh. 

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.” 

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 

You love him. He’s gone. 

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.” 

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?” 

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 

You nod. “You can.” 

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“And this? If you want..” 

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[tonycries]

The Call - G.S.

Synopsis. After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but it’s so hard when he kisses you like that.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, background Zenin Naoya x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, Naoya gets cucked, Oggy & The Cockroaches cameo, NSFW, making out, cunnilingus, fingering, doggy, missionary, manhandling kinda, Satoru is taller, mentions of alcohol, pet names (doll, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), Satoru is down BAD, cheating, I bully Naoya, car sex, overstimulation (male + female), swearing (I’m a pottymouth, sorry), exhibitionism if you squint.

Word count. 6.7k (being stuck on a farm really does that to ya)

A/N. BONJOUR BABYGIRLS, FIRST POST KINDA NERVOUS?? Based on The Call by Backstreet Boys. Art by @_3aem on X.

If you reblog, I’ll literally kiss you on the mouth (with your consent). <3

Cross-posted on AO3

“Listen, baby, I’m sorry.”

He’ll see the marks.

“Jus’ wanna tell ya don’t worry. I will be late, don’t stay up and wait for me.”

He’ll know. 

Good.

Long fingers trail higher and higher up your thigh. 

Meeting his fiery cerulean gaze, the grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now. 

Satoru won’t let you get out of this alive.

Shit. How the hell did you even get here?

Hitting the club on a random Thursday with your friends means you’d geared up for a dead dance floor and some old creeps you’d have to fight off. 

Hey, it wasn’t perfect - but at least it would get your mind off of That Bag of Dicks. And the fact that it was your two-year anniversary with him today. AND the fight that led you to furiously text your groupchat demanding a night out. 

But, whatever, semantics. 

What you certainly did not expect was the crowd to be dancing in an uproar, and one white-haired man to be in the middle of it all. The creeps were still there - as always - but what did it matter when his electric eyes caught yours across the dance floor. Mouth curving up in a teasing grin as he kept gaze locked with yours.

Beautiful.

Wait. Ugh. You really needed to get a hold of yourself. 

Ripping your eyes away from this stranger’s, you check your phone - somewhat out of habit. 

0 new notifications. 

Well. Fuck it, you thought.

Downing your friend’s double shot, you mentally made a note to buy them a drink next time as you plunged into the dense crowd. 

Fuck Naoya. Fuck his mind games. Fuck his stuffy, exclusive family dinners.

…

And that uglyass e-boy hairstyle.

Maybe it was the Smirnoff, or maybe it was the music thrumming through your veins - all you knew was that the dancing bodies around you were magnetic, and you hadn’t felt this good in a long time. 

Yeah, this is exactly what you needed right now.

You’re moving your hips to the beat in all the ways your boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate. Running your hands over the top that stuck to you like a second skin. 

And that was when it happened. 

A hand grasps yours in midair. 

Ew, what the fuck. You’d barely formed that thought before you’re suddenly spun so that your back is pressed against the front of…a wall? A wall wearing such alluring cologne. 

No wait, that’s a person. Holy shit they must be some sort of gym rat.

“Hey, wanna dance on that table?”

You turn your head to snap at whoever this stranger speaking to you from behind is, partially impressed by his sheer audacity. 

But whatever curse or shout at the tip of your tongue died down when you saw those eyes from before peering down at you. Except, now that you were closer - almost intimidatingly so - you could truly appreciate what a breathtaking man he was. 

Ethereal white hair framing those incredibly blue eyes. And a small dimple at the corner of a grin, which moves as he cocks his head and leans down to repeat, “Wanna dance on that table?”

Dammit, you might have been ogling him for too long. 

The table in question was one fringing the dance floor, slightly battered from too much experience with drunk dancing. Yet, it didn’t seem like it would break down anytime soon - and your phone was tragically empty of any concerned calls from your boyfriend so…what’s the worst that could happen? 

“...Sure?” You answer, eyes still unmoving from his face. 

At most you’d just dance till you forget today.

And before you knew it, both of his hands rested softly on your hips as he carefully steered you through the crowd from behind. 

Upon reaching it, his long legs jump onto the table and he holds a hand out towards you - boyish mirth evident on his features and the surrounding crowd cheering in drunken camaraderie. Face slightly burning at the spectacle, you slide your hand once more into his grasp.

It should be illegal to be this good-looking and the life of the party.

This stranger had you belting out the lyrics of songs with almost-reckless abandon, hands ghosting your body as you two moved in sync. An unknown magnetism drawing you to each other like a moth to flame. 

You were most definitely the flame, you thought, with the way his intense stare left your skin burning. You felt your heartbeat banging against your ribcage in symphony with the strobe lights above.

He was towering in front of you now. An arm wrapping around your waist, and the other gently pushing away the hair from your face. Close.

“I’m Gojo Satoru. You can jus’ call me Satoru, doll.”

A large hand caressing your cheek now. 

“I’m-”

That was when you felt it. The incessant vibration in your skirt pocket that most definitely wasn’t the pounding club music - your phone. And you knew who it was. 

Shit, you lost track of everything. 

“...taken.”

The smile on Gojo’s face falters for the first time as he makes a noise of confusion.

“I’m taken. Sorry. See you around.”

And with that, you untangle yourself from his arms and make your way back onto the ground, weaving through the crowd that had formed around the table due to your guys’ little show. 

What the hell were you even thinking? Just because you were mad at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you don’t have one.

You look back and catch a glimpse of Gojo’s slight pout. 

Cute. 

But, your buzzing phone served as a reminder - now wasn’t the time to forget yourself. You came here to dance your worries off, not cheat on your damn boyfriend! Maybe you really should check out that couples therapist your aunt recommended…couldn’t be that expensive, could it?

A glance at your phone shows Naoya’s string of texts. A couple cuss words, some accusations thrown here and there - none of them true, yet you felt guilty as you made your way to the bar. 

He still didn’t call, but it’s a start, right?

Upon grabbing a seat at the counter, your friends excitedly rush to hear the tea. 

“Oh my gosh, WHO was that hottie you were up there on the table with earlier?”, they gasp and crowd around you eagerly. 

“Some guy named Gojo, but we just-”

One of your friends interrupts your explanation by tittering, “You know I always told you to leave that asswipe, Naoya. Glad you finally decided to stand up, girl.” 

The rest of your group make noises of agreement as you sputter your excuses, “What- NO. I told him I was taken. Either way, I know Naoya’s a dick but I’d never cheat on him!” 

You weren’t like that. I mean, he drives you mad but every couple has their moments, right?

“Well, are you sure you told him you’re taken?”

Your friend’s odd question makes you snap out of your little overthinking tirade, enough to turn to what the group was now looking at - or more like who.

Gojo was unmissable. 

A cloud-like beauty with locks of white, standing a full head above everyone else. But what jarred you the most was the look in his eyes as they locked upon you, like a man dying of thirst spotting an oasis on his last breath.

Well, shit.

“Not really in the mood to watch you two eye-fuck each other sooo we’ll prolly go dance. We’ll be nearby keeping an eye, though, so remember the signals, yeah?” you hear from your left.

You nod mutely as your friends leave you for a repeat of Heads Will Roll.

“We meet again, Ms. Taken.” 

You rip your gaze away from your friends on the dance floor to look up at Gojo. His stupid little joke startles a small laugh out of you. 

“Didn’t think you were one for dad jokes, Gojo.” you muse. 

“Please, call me Satoru.” he grins as he leans over the counter to order you both a shot of Baileys. “You’re an incredible dancer you know.”  

“Says the life of the party?” you laugh, turning in your seat to better face your interesting new friend. 

He conducts an exaggerated bow, bragging “What can I say? I’m quite great at everything.” 

Ah, the dramatic type.

“Now that just makes you sound sleazy, Satoru.” you tease, gratefully taking the shot from the bartender.

Despite the dim lighting of the club, you could make out the slight darkening of Satoru’s cheeks. But, before you could ponder that any further, he clinks his shot glass against yours and downs the liquor. 

Once you follow, he leans in closer to drawl “As sleazy as that boyfriend of yours?”. 

Goosebumps rise on your shoulders and you have to hold back a shudder - whether from Satoru’s deep voice in your ear or because of what he just said, you don’t question.

Raising an eyebrow, “What would you know about my boyfriend?”

You watch as Satoru’s eyebrows furrow slightly, a more serious expression taking over his face. “Oh, doll. You do know that your lil’ boyfriend is very popular with the ladies here, right?”

What the fuck? Okay, to be touchy is one thing but outright lying about your boyfriend is another.

You stare at Satoru blankly, unimpressed. Droning monotonously, “Ah, so you’re one of those guys that lie to pick up a girl, huh?” You see his eyes widen by the smallest fraction - clearly not expecting this kind of response. Then he throws his head back and laughs. The nerve.

Between cackles, “I’m not. But your boyfriend sure is.” 

And as you open your mouth to retort he plows on, “Nao-something, right? That two-tone-haired gremlin? Bumped into him last time I was here, he showed us a couple pictures of you, bragging about having a hottie waiting for him at home. It was almost heartfelt.” 

Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and fumbles with it before turning the screen to face you. “That was right before he started making out with some other chick, of course.”

And making out with some other chick he was. 

The picture was blurry - seemingly zoomed into the background of a group selfie - but it was undeniably your Naoya, only with the added detail of his tongue down some other girl’s throat.

This FUCKER. 

“...when was this?”, the words sounded foreign to your ears, as if spoken by someone else. But you knew from the way Satoru assessed you with slight concern that it was you who asked this.

“...last week.” 

Last week? Last week was when your boyfriend(?) was out of town for some alleged family dinner at the Zenin Estate. And the week before that as well. At this point, was any of it real?

“Another dinner, babe? Old man Zenin sure is stepping up with the family bonding.” you chuckle, as Naoya fixes his hair in the mirror.

“Yeah. Won’t be home tonight.”

“Staying at the Estate again? Ugh, well, stay safe. Love you!” you chirp as he flits out the door. Disappointed but, whatever, time to binge-watch those shitty rom-coms he complains about.

The longer you sat on that too-high seat at the bar counter, the longer things began lining up. His short fuse, the incessant texts, and most of all - his paranoia that you were cheating on him with any and every male in the vicinity. It was actually one of the things you’d blown up over before you left for the night.

“What? Naoya, babe, he’s literally my friend’s boyfriend. Why would I ever-”

“Oh yeah? Well I couldn’t tell cuz you’re such a fuckin’ slut. Y’know, going on dates behind my back and all.”

“It was a GROUP HANGOUT, I haven’t seen these people in ages. What the fuck is up with you these days- I literally love you and only you. Look - can’t we just celebrate our anniversary like usual, c’mon…”

“Just fuck off.”

Tears well up in your eyes. How could he do this to you? After two entire years? 

You felt so stupid. Your thoughts were running a million miles a minute, and it stopped on one - you were going to get revenge. 

Abruptly getting down from your seat, you turn without remembering to say so much as a goodbye to Satoru. Fuming, and mind filled only with thoughts of how you’d burn Naoya’s ugly, overpriced shirts. Or maybe you could even send his unflattering nudes to the Zenin family groupchat - that would give those uptight fossils a real kick.

Your thoughts of enacting revenge are halted only when a large hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from heading for the club exit. Satoru’s ramblings hit you before you’d even turned to look at him.

“Look- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I thought you two had an open relationship or something. Which - looking back - how the fuck would a douche canoe like him have ever convinced you to have an open rela-”

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your friends worriedly making their way towards the two of you. 

You take a quick glance up at Satoru who was still in the middle of mumbling, “-shocked an e-boy bastard like him even pulled you in the first place.”

Fuck it.

Your body moved before your mind. You quickly shot your friends a thumbs up and tight-lipped smile that made them stop in their tracks, still slightly unsure. And with that, you grabbed Satoru and began dragging him to the exit, effectively cutting off his long-winded apology and/ or Naoya diss track.

Eyes firmly facing forward, you miss the mixture of delighted and scandalized expressions on your friends’ faces. The only thing distantly registering in your mind being the cold touch of Satoru’s wrist.

It was quiet outside. Your ears were ringing a bit from the chaos of the club, so you bask slightly in the serenity before Satoru speaks up from beside you, “So…changed your mind, Ms. Taken?”

Oh, right. You took a prize with you - and he didn’t even know your name, yet.

“Ah! Sorry- That was just on impulse, I didn’t mean-”, now it was your turn to ramble apologies for your hasty reaction. Just because you wanted to get back at your boyfriend doesn’t mean you should involve someone else in it!

After apologizing and giving him your name, you look up to see the twinkle in Satoru’s eyes. He seemed…amused?

“I did take you for a bit of a thrill-seeker after the table incident, but damn…”, he chuckles. “Well, now that we’re acquainted with each other, why don’t we give that lil’ boyfriend of yours something to really be mad about?” 

His words cause a shiver to run down your spine. What? 

He leans in close - so very close - and bats his long lashes, “That is what you dragged me out here for, right?”

Well, maybe you are sort-of the adventurous type. And maybe this is what your freshly heartbroken brain had concocted as revenge for your boyfriend’s betrayal - but wasn’t this too reckless, even for you? With what dignity you have left, you muster, “Once again, I’m so sorry for all of this. Let’s both pretend this never happened, you can head back and I’ll head…home.” 

“Where my cheating scumbag boyfriend is” is the part that goes unsaid. 

Satoru stays unmoving from his place in your personal space, defiantly staring right into your eyes, “You didn’t answer my question, doll.” he hums. 

It might have been the alcohol - or the way his lip curled oh-so-perfectly into a teasing smile - but you find yourself sighing out in defeat. “Fine. Yeah. That is what I brought you out here for but mind you it was impulse and-”

He has the audacity to look absolutely exhilarated at your response, cutting you off to muse “That’s perfect then, isn’t it? You get revenge on that cheating dumbass, and I get to fuck an absolute goddess.” 

At your stunned silence, he quirks an eyebrow and continues, “Come on, you really think I didn’t see the way you were eyeing me up before getting on the dance floor?”

“Well, you’re kinda hard to miss.” you defend, face warming. ‘And either way, I’m still in a relationship, we could even try couples therapy…and besides - I don’t even know you.“ 

Satoru’s grin only seems to grow at each word that spills out of your mouth, he was getting impossibly closer to you. Surprisingly, you didn’t mind it as much as you think you would.

“Why don’t you?” he murmurs, eyes unwavering from your face.

“Huh?”

“Why don’t you get to know me?”

You frown at the question, heart still stinging from the revelation earlier about your boyfriend. “Last time I ‘got to know’ someone it ended up with him cheating on me after two whole years.” you mutter darkly.

The amusement drains from Satoru’s face and his eyebrows furrow as he rasps out “That prick doesn’t deserve you.” His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, he was close enough now that you could slightly smell the liquor from earlier mixed with his expensive cologne. 

It was so intoxicating.

Against the rational part of your brain, you feel yourself leaning into his presence. You challenge, “And you do?”

“Absolutely not.”, he breathes out. 

And - fuck - then you’re kissing him. Because how could you not? Your lips are drawn to Satoru’s own like two halves of a soul that have connected after eons. Unbearable to part. He breathes you in like you were the only thing tethering him to this world. 

A small groan wrecks the back of his throat.

Shit, maybe it was the other way around. 

Your mouth parts, letting his tongue slide in. Satoru tasted sweet - like Baileys and every fantasy of a suave Prince Charming ever. You think that maybe you could get drunk off of his lips alone. You distinctly register the strong arm around your waist pulling you to him, sliding your hand up his chest and into those angelic locks. 

His mouth curls into a smile against yours. “Having fun, doll?” he chuckles, each word punctuated by small pecks to your lips. He pulls back ever-so-slightly to bite and tease the skin on your neck. 

Against your will, a quiet whine rips from your throat. Satoru was everywhere. But it wasn’t enough. You tug at his silky hair.

He seemed to get the memo. Connecting his forehead with yours, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body before resting it on your ass, squeezing it lightly. “C’mon, use your words.”, he sounds just as breathless as you feel.

Raising your neck a little higher, lips ghosting over his, you whisper, “Satoru…I want to fuck you.”

He huffs out a laugh before murmuring lowly in your ear - words meant for you and only you - “No, doll. I want you to ruin me.” 

Your thighs press together, he was going to be the death of you. Satoru catches the small movement and hums thoughtfully, “I got a lil’ place nearby. Wanna go?”

This was stupid. This was reckless. And you were going to do it.

Following your impatient nod, the both of you hurriedly walk the short distance to where Satoru’s car was parked. You share your location with your girls - just in case - before Satoru pushes you against the backseat door of his jet black Hellcat.

Lips connecting once more, he groans out, “Need you here right now.” sounding at his wits end, “Please, doll.”

Before you know it, the door is opened and slammed shut, and you’re sinking into the plush leather seat. Satoru is hovering over you now, dim street light illuminating the lust on his features. You looked into his darkened eyes, now hinging on a black that matched his car. The air was still. Waiting.

Then broken by the cacophony of the theme song to Oggy & The Cockroaches. 

Ah, how classy. 

Mentally cursing yourself for how out-of-place that joke ringtone was, you pull out your phone as Satoru backs up a bit. Your heart stops at the caller ID - “Naoya <3” - anger and guilt filling you.

“Answer it.”, you hear from above you. Satoru, who had looked at your phone screen while you froze, was now smirking devilishly. He kisses your forehead reassuringly, repeating “Answer it.”

Well…you’ve already come this far…

“Hello?” you stammer out, answering the call. 

Your heart clenches as you hear Naoya’s voice demanding to know where you are right now. But his words go in one ear and out the other as you pay more attention to where Satoru held you, letting him do as he pleases while he takes the liberty to trail his hands where your skirt was hiking up. You could feel his thumb rubbing circles into your thighs. Tease. 

“Hellooo, can you hear me? Haven’t you had enough of fucking feeling sorry for yourself??” Naoya’s grating voice snapped you out of your reverie. 

Right, you still had to deal with that.

“Listen, baby, I’m sorry.”

Satoru’s hot breaths were fanning your hair now. His fingers continue their dance on your thigh. Feathery touch too light for any sort of friction, but just enough to set your skin ablaze. 

“Jus’ wanna tell ya don’t worry. I will be late, don’t stay up and wait for me.”

He bends down to kiss the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin. Devilish and dangerous. Angling your head slightly, a jolt of electricity goes through your body as you meet his intense gaze - one that makes you feel vulnerable and exposed, despite being fully clothed. 

The grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now. 

Satoru won’t let you get out of this alive.

Your heated thoughts are once again interrupted by Naoya’s nagging complaints. Usually, you would have simpered on the line, but right now consoling your boyfriend was the last thing on your mind. 

“Say again? You’re dropping out, my battery is low…Jus’ so ya know, we’re going to a place nearby.”

Naoya’s shrieks of profanity are loud enough for Satoru to hear as well. He chokes on a laugh, quickly muffling it in the valley of your chest. 

You have to hold back a yelp as his soft hairs tickle your nose. Evidently bored of all your conversation, Satoru’s hand finally slips past your skirt and begins playing with the hem of your lacy panty.

Shit.

“Gotta go-”

And with that, you quickly hang up the phone and let it fall to god-knows-where. Satoru immediately catches your lips again, “Thank fuck, e-boy bastard was about to make me lose my boner.”, he mumbles against them. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck and all the way down to your chest. “Keeping me your dirty lil’ secret, huh?”

A mischievous grin makes its way to your face as you hum, “For now. Revenge cheating isn’t as fun when they already know about it.” 

You wrap your legs around Satoru’s waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low, strangled groans at the touch of your clothed core. Both of you knew it - he wanted you so bad. 

Satoru’s fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panty, causing you to moan at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before looking at you with eyes that look like he wanted to eat you alive. 

“Let me taste you.” he breathes out. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Urgently, Satoru wasted no time in helping you sit up against the door, falling onto his knees to come face-to-face with your dripping pussy. He licks a long stripe, hands tightly gripping your ass to hold you in place. 

Where Satoru was suave when kissing you, he was absolutely filthy when making out with your cunt. “Mm- Tastes s’good, doll.” he moans against your wet lips. You couldn’t hold back your groans of pleasure, his mouth making your head spin. 

Finally, his hands on your ass swiftly remove your flimsy panties - completely soaked with slick and spit. You reach out to take a hold of them, but Satoru redirects your hands onto his hair. “Use me.” he grins. Walls fluttering at how fucked out he sounds already, you almost miss the way he pockets your wet panties.

He dives back into making out with your pussy, Tongue pushing its way through your folds and tasting every inch of you with purpose. His nose keeps rubbing against your clit, and mewls rip from your throat to harmonize with the lewd squelching sounds from below. 

Satoru pulls back to admire his work, satisfied at the disappointed gasp coming from you. “Fuck- look at you. So pretty and dripping f’me. Gonna make a mess of my seats, doll?” he rasps out. 

“Shut up.” you whine embarrassed, pushing Satoru’s head to where you need him the most. He relishes in the rough treatment, rolling his tongue harshly over and over against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit! Satoru!” you yelp in ecstasy as you buck your hips into his face. More.

Satoru now uses two fingers to spread your cunt even more, admiring. 

He bullies a long finger into your wet pussy. His ice-cold ring rubbing the base of your folds in stark contrast with the hot vibrations of his moans on your clit. It was all too much. You squeeze around his head - which only seems to spur Satoru on more as he increases his pace. 

A second finger slides in, curling in unison to search for that spot inside you which Satoru knew would have your sweet moans singing louder. 

Ah, there.

“S’good Satoru. Fuck. Right there, don’ stop.”, you whine as Satoru fervently continues his attack on your cunt. 

You call out his name over and over again. Satoru was everywhere. Everything. And he was the only thing on your mind as you cum with a strangled gasp of his name; iron-tight grip on his hair helping you ride it out on his pretty face. 

While you descend from the heaven Satoru sent you to, he continues giving kittenish pecks to your pulsing cunt. Experimental licks making your thighs squeeze more around his face. He looked absolutely fucked out, eyes hooded and face flushed a delicate pink.

As the heartbeat ringing in your ears subside, you register that goddamn Oggy & The Cockroaches ringtone in the distance again.

Half-consciously reaching a hand out to feel it for it, you already know who it is before you take a look at the phone screen. 

Naoya <3

The exasperation must show on your face, because Satoru reaches out a toned arm and silences your phone before setting it down - all while still nose-deep in your pussy. He pulls away, the absolute mess of spit and slick still connecting him to you and covering his devilish grin. It makes your cunt throb once more. 

“Couples therapy is too expensive anyway.”, he rolls his eyes. 

You spot the very obvious outline of Satoru’s cock straining against his trousers. He looked painfully hard. 

God, you needed him.

Reaching out an unsteady hand, “Let me-” you begin before you were interrupted by his hands tenderly intertwining with yours for the nth time this night. His soft lips press a gentle kiss to them. And despite the lewd acts you two had been doing not even a minute before, this is what makes your cheeks heat up the most.

“I want you so bad, you wouldn’t even believe. But trust me, where we’re going I can have you however I want. Properly.” his words strained, and going straight to your pussy. 

And it’s the last thing said before he pulls your skirt back down and opens the door, only carrying you carefully to his passenger seat. “Safety first.” Satoru chirps, as he pulls over your seatbelt before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s seat.

Was he coddling you?

The drive to Satoru’s place is slightly rushed, his impatience showing in the way his fingers drum against the steering wheel. 

Fingers that were in you. 

Your cheeks burn as you try not to look behind and see the mess that you surely left on his overpriced seats. Whether from the blasting AC or from the prospect of what was about to happen, goosebumps rise on your skin. 

They stay prominent as Satoru pulls into the extravagant driveway of the type of apartment complex that you’d sneer at on a normal day. 

You feel very out of place at the gaudy entrance without panties under your short skirt. 

Satoru hands his keys to the valet before steadily making his way to you, pulling you to him with a strong arm around your waist. “Told ya I got a lil’ place nearby.” he drawls into your ear.

“Nothing too little about this place. Compensating?” you tease, and watch his eyes crinkle as he laughs. 

“Well. You’ll find out soon enough.” 

The walk to the elevator is rushed, and you two have to fight to keep your hands to yourselves if you didn’t want to permanently scar the sweet old couple riding it alongside you. 

Finally. Finally you reach his floor,

Penthouse, you note.

“Couples therapy is expensive” my ass! Does this guy run a drug cartel or what?

Roughly pushing you against his door, Satoru’s lips are once again on yours. He firmly grinds his erection against your core, massaging your ass in the process. 

Ah, you don’t think he’s compensating. 

A deep moan leaves Satoru as he feels the clenching of your naked cunt against him. You yelp when he moves your legs to wrap around his waist, effectively lifting you off the ground as if you weigh nothing. 

One hand steadying you, he quickly punches in the code to his door.

Even as he enters and kicks the door closed, Satoru’s lips don’t leave yours. He blindly turns on a light before pulling back to admire you. You felt like you were losing your sanity, “You’re stupidly good at this, y’know.” you murmur, uncharacteristically somewhat shy. 

He chuckles, removing your shoes before setting you down. Yet, your feet touch his cold mahogany floors for only a split second before Satoru has you in a bridal carry. “Save your praises for the bedroom, doll.” he chuckles out.

It’s a short walk to his room - or maybe Satoru was rushing - but his lips are on you as soon as your back hits the soft navy sheets of his king-sized bed. Maybe if you were in a clear state of mind you’d better appreciate the beauty of Satoru’s sleek interior décor. But right now you were only focused on the open-mouthed kisses he was leaving on your covered breasts.

“I have a feeling you’ll like me a lot less if I rip this off.” he tugs on the hem of your shirt with his teeth. 

“Duh. And you really talk too much.” you huff out in impatience and quickly discard your top while Satoru pulls off your skirt. 

He pecks you, hand reaching behind to unclasp your bra and leave you completely bare to him. “Not fair that I’m the only one naked.” your voice tinged with embarrassment as you start unbuttoning his shirt while he teases and pulls at your hardened nipples. Satoru lets you manhandle him to your liking, and manhandle him you did. 

You flip your positions so that you are straddling him, overpriced white button-up now thrown across the room. 

Holy shit, he really is a gym rat.

You kiss your way down the white happy trail on his sculpted body, squeezing his pecs and licking long stripes up his prominent abs. “Hah- yes. Please.” Satoru’s moans sound heavily, and it spurs you to make quick work removing his belt. Rivaling your impatience, he hooks a thumb under his trousers and urgently discards it. 

Yeah, definitely not compensating. 

Satoru is long, and flushed a pretty pink that matches his cheeks. His weeping tip makes the prominent vein along his length glisten in the low light. So perfect.

Mouth salivating, Satoru watches you with predatory eyes as you lean closer and closer. “Bigger than your lil’ boyfriend, huh?” he hums cockily. You roll your eyes and shut him up by spitting right on his flushed head. You kiss it slowly, relishing in the low hiss drawn from him, 

“Hngh- F-fuck, doll”. Pumping his base slowly, you take his head into your mouth. Bobbing at a steady rhythm that has Satoru’s eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Fuck. So fuckin’ good. Keep- keep going.” Satoru moans. You hum around him in a way that has his hips bucking into your mouth. You could tell - he wanted to push you down like a fucktoy and chase his high, but right now he was completely under your control.

Nails digging into his toned hips, you take his cock in further. “Yes yes yes yes. Jus’ like that.” he whines, one hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and the other gripping onto the bed sheets. 

It was messy. Drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, you gag on Satoru’s length as you suck it. Suddenly, his grip on your hair has you pulling off of his cock with a pop. 

His hand moves to squish your wet lips together in a pout, “Can’t have me finish before the main course now, can we, doll?” his gravelly voice drawls. 

In a split-second, Satoru flips your position to hover over you. His hands groping and admiring every inch of skin he can see. Eventually, his fingers find their way back to your cunt, “Such a pretty pussy. All f’me.” he spreads your lips teasingly before plunging inside - two fingers easily finding the spot from before. 

Ever the multitasker, he sucks and teases your nipples, switching between the two to give them equal attention. You writhe, the pleasure from every point becoming too much. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru don’ stop” you moan out. 

He adds another finger at a relentless pace, “Satoru! S- Toru! Toru. I’m close.” your words slur together as Satoru’s name falls like a prayer from your mouth. You were still sensitive from before, so it wasn’t long before you were cumming all over Satoru’s fingers with a final mewl. 

But you two weren’t done - far from it. 

“Need you so bad, Toru.” you breathe out, half-lucidly. 

Proud smirk on his face, Satoru quickly fishes out a condom from his bedside drawer. Through the hazy aftermath of your second climax, you hear him mumble sweet reassurances to you as he rolls you over onto your stomach. 

A soft caress of his fingers at your pussy and you feel his head rubbing your folds. 

Worriedly you breathe out, “Toru- it won’t-”

“Shhh, doll. I’ll make it.” 

You whine in both pain and ecstasy as Satoru bullies his thick cock into your cunt. “Oh god. S’tight. So fucking tight.” he gasps out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

His large hand pushes down on your back, making you arch into his cock, the other starts incessantly rubs desperate circles on your sensitive clit. A few tears stream down your face from the sheer overstimulation. But it felt good - so good. Your moans grow louder as the pleasure starts overtaking the pain.

“More, Toru.”

“Oh yeah?”

Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spilling out of his mouth, he leans over and bites you at the crook of your neck hard, still slamming into you at an intense tandem. You yelped at both the new angle and the bite which was sure to leave a lasting mark.

Now, Satoru has tolerated many types of people through clubbing, your bastard boyfriend wasn’t any different. It was when he showed a picture of you that things got interesting. 

Perfect. So perfect. You’d be better off with someone else than that smug lil’ gremlin. Like him…

And when he saw you tonight dancing like that.

Satoru had to have you.

“Bet he never fucked you like this.” His every word punctuated by a hard thrust. Shit, you didn’t even want to think about him right now. Your walls flutter around Satoru’s thick cock, throaty groans leaving him as his toned arm grabs the headboard for some stability. “Pussy fuckin’ sucking me in just right. Hah- so good.”

Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, “Toru- I’m gonna-”, face burying deeper into his luxurious bed. 

Suddenly, the friction you crave so badly halts as Satoru pulls out to flip you onto your back with a playful smack to your ass. “Fuck. Wanna look at your beautiful face as you cum.” he mutters into your ear. 

Leaning down to tug on your breasts, he looks at you with deceivingly innocent eyes as he keeps up his merciless cadence. Your arms reach around his muscled back to dig your nails into the unblemished skin. It felt so animalistic, the way his heavy balls were slapping your ass, stimulating you just right. Your hips buck up to meet Satoru’s, causing him to let out a strangled moan “Shit, doll. Pussy made jus’ for me. I’m so close.”

“M-me too.” his fingers start their abuse on your clit once more, “Hngh- Toru.” you whimper. Overstimulated and senses filled with only Satoru, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts. 

Tears stream down your face as you come for the 3rd time tonight. 

“Fuck- FUCK. Yeah, cum on my cock, doll. Jus’ like that.” he moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well. 

You feel Satoru cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew. 

He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full bodyweight. As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his. You feel more relaxed than you have in ages. Moves veiled in exhaustion, Satoru nuzzles your hickies as a lover would. 

So he was a cuddler.

Giggling at the contrast from before, you lay there in a blissed out silence almost has you falling asleep. You take the moment to appreciate just how pretty Satoru in his post-orgasmic euphoria was. Cloudy locks disheveled, and lips a wet, rosy pink. His cerulean eyes were barely keeping open as he gives innocent pecks to your lips.

The serenity is disrupted by a familiar, unpleasant cacophony of vibrations near the edge of the bed where your phone had been thrown. The fucked out little smile on Satoru’s face grows as he realizes who it is. “Gonna answer the phone, doll?” he rasps out.

You raise a brow, “Why? Wanna give him a show?” you tease, not expecting the hum of agreement from Satoru. “Why not? Show him jus’ how I fuck you right?” he cocks his head, challenging you. 

Your knee brushes up against his half-hard cock, causing a drawn-out hiss from him. His hips lightly rutting into you, you watch in satisfaction as tears spring to Satoru’s half-alert eyes. From pleasure or overstimulation? Probably both.

Well, the score was You - 1, Satoru - 3. 

Might as well try and catch up. 

Round two, you guess.

You snatch your phone before it topples off the now-untucked bedsheets. 

Naoya <3 is video calling…

Pinning Satoru down, you scoot down the bed and hand him your phone, which he gratefully takes with a mischievous smile. Positioning yourself in-between his strong legs, you gently kiss his twitching cock, now painted with spit and cum.

The delicate tears in his eyes now track down his flushed face. Satoru lets out a choked out whine, bucking his hips and smearing his cum all over your swollen lips. 

And he answers the call. 

“Where- WHAT THE FUCK???”

Happy anniversary, you jerk.

A/N. I don’t condone cheating but c’mon it’s Gojo Satoru.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nxuvillette]

“THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING”

LOSING YOUR VIRGINITY W/ TR MEN

synopsis: your first time is supposed to be special and with the right person. luckily, you have an amazing boyfriend who is willing to make that dream come true.

❥- including : manjiro (mikey) sano, ken (draken) ryuguji, baji keisuke, hanma shuji

❥- note : first tr post 👍🏻 i’m kinda nervous because these were a little longer than my last post but i hope y’all enjoy <3. reblogs are appreciated!!

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, virgin!reader, established relationship, virginity loss, praising, oral sex [f!receiving] (mikey , baji), fingering (draken , baji , hanma), finger sucking (baji), slight breeding kink (hanma), creampie (draken , hanma) use of pet names (baby , princess , babydoll , doll) multiple orgasms.

♡ MANJIRO (MIKEY) SANO

you and your boyfriend mikey had been together for a little while. he was nothing but kind to you, and you honestly trusted him more than anybody else that you knew. he was everything.

intimacy had never really crossed his mind before. sure, he knew sex was important, but it wasn’t something he necessarily saw as a necessity in your relationship. not to mention, you were a virgin. you knew things about sex and such, but you never acted upon those desires you had inside your head. mikey was also patient. he never really saw sex as something that had to be rushed. 

eventually, you reached that point after your one year anniversary that you were ready to lose it to him.

mikey honestly couldn’t believe that he did so little to you, yet you were a dripping mess when he took your panties off. he believed if you weren’t a virgin he wouldn’t even need to do foreplay to make you feel good, but he wanted to make sure you were prepped and you got to experience a great first time with him. 

his favorite part was watching you squirm and tremble as his tongue dove into your sopping pussy. you hadn’t experienced such a feeling before and it was so thrilling. his tongue dragged along your slit and you almost came from him just eating you out. mikey couldn’t get enough of how delicious you tasted. he was in disbelief that someone as good as you was hiding like this for so long. it took everything in him to not keep eating you out. 

when mikey finally entered you, you were both in complete heaven. 

mikey was fairly long and his size made you gasp. he was reaching spots that made your mind feel dizzy. with all of the prep he did it also didn’t feel as bad as you thought it would have. he couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. your pussy was hugging his cock so nicely he thought he’d never be able to actually leave it. it was so warm and perfect. 

once you gave him the go ahead to start moving, he made you feel like you were on some type of drug. the feelings you were having were so euphoric. you craved more. you knew he was being gentle on purpose, but you were beyond wanting that soft and delicate sex. 

“m-more, mikey! i need more.. please..” you begged, gripping onto his forearms to show how desperate you were for more of him.

hearing those words snapped something inside mikey, and he ended up quickening his thrusts into you. the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot, making you see white stars in your vision and your body to completely ignite. “fuck.. don’t you worry, baby, i’ll give you all you’ll ever need..” he looked into your eyes, making you feel somewhat flustered at his words. 

you were so close to reaching your high. you were practically clawing at mikey’s back and letting out the most lewd noises every time he rutted into you. this was the first time you had ever felt something so intense in your life. not even your own hand could make you cum that hard. it was like that white hot pleasure in your gut was finally unleashed and it was making you go crazy. mikey had also cum, too. he was in utter shock at how much he released onto your stomach, but he was more than satisfied with the results. 

he pecked your lips, a smile writing itself on his features. “you were so great.. i’m so proud of you.”

♡ KEN (DRAKEN) RYUGUJI

dating toman’s number two was definitely one of the best decisions you had made in your entire life. draken was a better man than your own father and he did everything right in your relationship. he was practically someone who had zero flaws.

there were a few times you and draken had gotten close to actually having sex. sometimes you’d come over to his place and end up with his hands down your pants, but it never escalated to you both carrying out such an act with one another. draken was well aware that you were a virgin and he didn’t really have an issue with that. he wanted to be the one to make you feel good and he didn’t care how much time it took. unlike some men, he had genuine patience.

you and draken had been in his room that night it happened. you were both watching a movie when his hands began to wander around your body, squeezing and massaging your skin to make you feel aroused. it didn’t take long for you to end up on top of your boyfriend with your crotch pressing right up against his aching bulge. 

when you paused in your actions, you whispered to draken that you were ready to finally take that step with him. he was honestly a little surprised to hear such a thing, but he wasted no time pressing your body onto the mattress and going down on you. he almost came on the spot when he came face to face with your weeping pussy. he knew with his size that you’d need the prep, so he took his time with you. 

draken used two of his thick fingers to push into your cunt. he was astonished at how tightly your walls surrounded his digits. he loved hearing you call out his name each time he pumped himself into you. you were such an angel. 

once he had made you cum twice, he knew you were ready. 

you were honestly kind of nervous. draken was the biggest you had ever seen. when he pushed his cock inside you, there was this sharp inhale that escaped your lips. he was so thick. the girth was stretching you out to almost your limit and you practically held onto him for dear life as he bottomed out into you. you didn’t think he’d be able to make it fit, but he did. he could tell you had some discomfort, so he peppered a few kisses onto your face and whispered sweet nothings to ease you. all he wanted was for you to be comfortable. 

you gave him the nod of approval to start moving and you honestly thought he was going to split you in half. his cock was so big. you felt that vein dragging along your walls as he thrusted and it sent you into pure bliss. you could hardly contain the cries of pleasure that spilled from your throat. “d-draken! shit.. ‘feels so good!” you looked at him with hazy eyes while he fucked you so effortlessly.

your voice was like music to his ears. draken’s dick twitched when he heard how his name slipped off your lips. “yeah? you like that, princess? you’re so fuckin’ tight.. i can’t get enough of this pussy..” he grunted. 

that knot inside your belly has finally snapped when those words processed through your foggy brain. draken groaned hard when your cunt clamped around his cock, milking him of what was left in his balls. he couldn’t hide his smirk when he realized he had filled you up with his cum. you seemed to enjoy it too, judging by the moan you let out when you felt him covering your walls with white. 

he leaned towards your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. it sent shivers down your spine at the action. “round two..?” he asked, seductively.

♡ BAJI KEISUKE

sexual intimacy was never something that was a necessity in your relationship with baji. the two of you often focused on more romantic things than the physical aspects of a relationship, but that didn’t mean that you two never craved those inappropriate desires. 

baji knew from day one that you were a virgin. he accidentally asked that “are you a virgin?” question when you both went on a date and almost slapped himself when he realized he came from his mouth. you thought it was kind of funny and you ended up revealing to him that you were a virgin. he didn’t mind at all, and he assured you that he’d never put you in a position where you felt forced to have sex with him. he said sex came naturally and when you were ready to do it with another person.

you and baji went on a nice ride on his bike that night. there was a gorgeous sunset that you both watched and he took you home, expecting you to go into your apartment and not look back. however, he was quite shocked when you tugged his arm to come with you. this hadn’t happened before, so it took him off guard. nonetheless, he followed you up to your apartment and went inside with you. 

after you both shrugged off your jackets, you both ended up in your bedroom and baji was the one on top of you. the two of you hadn’t expected it to become so heated that quickly, but you were too far lost in your bliss to even think about stopping. he paused when he realized you were tugging at his belt buckle. he questioned if you wanted to do it and you nodded eagerly. you told him you were sure that you wanted to proceed and he wasted no time diving into you.

baji thought your body was so gorgeous. he couldn’t stop kissing at your skin and sucking to leave marks on it. when he reached your cunt, his mouth practically watered at the sight of it. it was so puffy and cute that he couldn’t help but have a taste. his tongue swiped over your sensitive bead, causing your thighs to trap his head. he was so talented with his tongue and his fingers that you swore you could cum from just him eating you out. 

once his chin and lips were completely covered in your arousal, he decided to finally pull out his cock that was aching so painfully. 

as soon as baji entered you, your eyes rolled backwards into your skull. the pleasure already felt so amazing that you were already feeling needy for your boyfriend. baji had a pretty impressive size, so taking it was a bit painful at first. he was, however, very good at talking you through that sting. he kissed your lips and whispered how beautiful you were, and he praised you for taking him so well despite the stretch of his cock. 

once he started moving, you wrapped your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you. baji thought your pussy hugged him perfectly like you were made for him to make love with. you were so gorgeous. he could hardly keep his eyes off of you. “f-fuck me, baby, you’re so beautiful.. bein’ such a good girl for me..” he pressed his thumb against your pretty lips, in which you sucked on it obediently.

you whined as baji adjusted his angle. his cock was now repeatedly hitting your g-spot which sent waves of pleasure to crash over your body. he was taking such care of your body that you didn’t think you’d ever need to fuck anyone else but him. “baji! oh, god, baji!” your nails dug crescents into his skin as he fucked you.

you threw your head back as your orgasm snapped through you. your pussy creamed around baji, earning several grunts from him. he pulled out the moment he felt his high hurdling towards him. sticky white cum covered your stomach, making a mess on your skin. 

baji kissed your cheek, a smile appearing on his face. “you were perfect.. let’s wash up and cuddle after, yeah?” he nodded, in which you agreed.

♡ HANMA SHUJI

dating someone like hanma shuji meant you had to deal with his sarcasm and also his flirty nature at the same time. however, he treated you like a princess regardless of those random snarky moments he had. he did anything for you and you couldn’t be happier with any other man. 

hanma almost didn’t believe you when you told him you were a virgin. it wasn’t like he thought you were lying for some other reason, but most people your age weren’t virgins. he didn’t see it as a problem, though. hanma thought it would be cute to someday take your virginity. he craved that physical intimacy more than you anticipated, but he was patient with you when it came to the matter. he would wait as long as you wanted, even if there was a side of him that desired to fuck your brains out on a daily basis.

he took you out earlier in the day for some shopping. you were used to being spoiled by him at times, so it wasn’t unusual. he knew the routine fairly well but he was kind of surprised when you both got home and you were being more touchy with him than usual. you brushed yourself over his crotch a few times and kissed him a little longer than normal. he wondered what you wanted, because he couldn’t handle teasing whatsoever.

he was taken back when you told him you wanted to have sex with him. he thought it was a joke, but he knew you were serious when you gave him that look. he didn’t waste another second dragging you into the bedroom and pouncing on you like he was a wild animal going for his prey. 

hanma took care of you. he made sure every inch of your body was kissed by his lips. he wanted you to know how stunning you were while you were naked. he swore god had favorites in that moment. it took everything inside of him to not completely ravage your cunt. when he slipped his fingers into you, he was shocked at how easy it was. you were practically soaking wet. his fingers were also quite lengthy. he curled and twisted his digits to find that button inside of you that would make you crumble in front of him.

you were shocked at how quick hanma had made you cum. before you knew it, he was hovering above you with his cock tip teasing your slit. you couldn’t wait any longer and practically begged him to enter you. he let out that usual chuckle and then pushed his cock into you, making your head fall backwards from how great it felt.

he made you feel like you were on the moon with how great he filled you. hanma could hardly believe you were taking him that well. you felt so full with him fully bottomed out in you. it took a little while for you to completely adjust to the size, but once that pain faded into pleasure, you had become a mess underneath your lover. he made your mind become cluttered and you couldn’t even think straight with how great the pleasure was.

“hanma.. oh, fuck! yes!” your fingers gripped the sheets underneath your body. 

he smirked at your voice crying out for him. he could hardly hold back against you. he quickened his speed a little, but made sure to not overwhelm you completely. you were delicate to him and he only wanted you to feel safe with him. “god, babydoll, it’s like you were made for me..” he used the hand with sin to toy with your puffy clit. “‘gonna make sure you cum all over my cock..”

you couldn’t hold back anymore and completely let go on him. your pussy squeezed his cock tightly and covered it in slick arousal. hanma pushed a load into your womb, grunting as he reached his high. it was so intense he thought he might have cum twice from you. 

he took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and pressing a few kisses onto your neck. “i’m so proud of you, doll.. you did so well..” he whispered, lovingly.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

-

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

-

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

-

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

-

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

-

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

[nnephthyss]

“what??? you don’t like me?” - megumi x reader

plot: megumi and you get placed in a room together on a mission. the only problem was that there was one bed.

warnings: fem! reader, grinding, virgin megumi, virgin reader, clit rubbing, (sorry this one isn’t that explicit, i just had it on my mind and it seemed fun to post.)

wc: 1.7k

much love to all my followers and supporters ♡

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

the first years got sent on the mission and that included you and megumi and you know what else it included? gojo being a total ass and putting you two together in a room. him and nobara always thought it was all shits and giggles to try and match make the two of you even though you weren’t attracted to each other at all.

or do you??

arriving at the hotel, megumi immediately sees the single bed in the middle of the room. “you have to be kidding me.” he grumbles and sits his duffle bag down on the ground in front of the bed. you walk your way in, closing the door behind you and seeing the situation for yourself. “fuck.” you curse, sitting your bag down next to his and plop on the bed, tired from the days events.

megumi lays down beside you, looking up at the ceiling, tired as well. “gojo is insufferable.” he comments and you glance over at him, propping your self up on your elbow to look at him. “whatttt??? you don’t like me fushiguro??”you tease, using your voice in a playful manner and it catches him off guard. i mean c'mon, you weren’t that bad.

megumi raises an eyebrow as you speak. “what?” he asks, turning his head to look at you.“ what are you on about?” his face turning a bit pink. this causes you to raise an eyebrow at how flustered he is. why not play into it a bit? getting up, you straddle his lap which makes him stiffen beneath you.

“i mean c'mon gojo thinks we are a match made in heaven, don’t you think so too, fushiguro?” saying his last name in that sultry tone to get him even more riled up, teasing him was sooo much fun.“what the fuck are you doing?” he says, getting more nervous by the second. his hands stay on the mattress, hesitating to touch you by your hips or thighs, keeping his head layed back, body flat underneath you.

“are ya’ nervous?” you tease him again and that just makes the blush on his face redden even more. he was the kind to have a cold composure but right now that little facade was slowly stripping away. “n-no.” he mutters out, eyes diverting from your gaze.

“of course you are. you’ve never been with a girl.” he was red as a tomato from the comment and you giggle. you were just joking with him but it was true. megumi had never been with a girl before and you’ve never been with a guy. both being virgins, never having sex this moment between you two was heated. “wait…you really haven’t had sex?”

he almost chokes on his own spit from your blunt words. how the hell did it get this so personal?? he doesn’t keep eye contact with you, looking at the wall on his right side. it wasn’t a bad thing. you two weren’t even adults yet so it was normal but you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. megumi could feel him self harden underneath you. the tension and your suggestive words getting to him.

your eyes widen once you notice his aching bulge, pressing against your own crotch. “wait!? are you fucking hard right now?” your words come out a bit rushed and panicked as you start to get off of him. his large hands immediately reach out to keep you planted on his lap which surprises you.

i mean it kinda aroused you a bit. megumi was attractive, he had a good body, a good head on his shoulders even if he was a cold jerk. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles and finally makes eye contact with you, diverting his eyes back to yours. his deep blue eyes were filled with embarrassment and need.

your face was almost white. you were a bit taken off guard and aroused at the same time and megumi could see that. “i didn’t mean to turn you on.” you mutter softly and the boy can see how nervous you are. “but you did.” leaves his mouth a bit gruffly and that just makes a blush rise on your soft pale cheeks.

you were both painfully turned on, more so megumi because you could feel it. “do you want-“ you gesture between the two of you. it was slightly awkward and you could both feel it. “not sex but like-“ and he just nods his head. the both of you didn’t want have sex yet but having a little fun wouldn't hurt. you were both inexperienced and learning together wouldn’t be a bad thing.

taking a deep breath, you move your hands down to his jeans. he doesn’t say a word even though his hands twitch hesitantly. his eyes flicker between you and your hands as you remove his jeans. he lifts his hips up, helping you get them down.

he kicks them off while you work on your own shorts. he watch you take them off, eyes immediately going to your cutesy pink panties which makes his face reddened even more, the boy looking away from embarrassment. you start to straddle his lap again, moving into the same position you were in before. he watches you, hands moving to your thighs to help you.

you were so sensitive, settling right down against his cock through his boxers. you watch carefully but eyes flicker up to his once you make contact with his length completely. you could feel the heat radiating off of him and towards your clit. he could feel your slickness through your panties and it makes him groan.

“is this okay?” you ask him in a sugary sweet tone, eyes locked onto his, being cautious. he nods his head, breathing uneven as he holds your thighs firmly. he could already feel the sensations running up his spine just from the heat of you, the wetness seeping through your underwear and onto his clothed cock.

your folds engulf his length, hands holding onto his as you start to move forward. he can’t help but let out a small moan at the way the pleasure instantly shoots up his core. he helps guide your movements. “t-that feels really good..” he breathes and tilts his head back against the mattress.

your eyes threaten to close, clit rubbing slowly against his erection. “megumiii…” slips from you mouth in almost a whiny-like tone and that immediately catches his attention because you never call him by his first name. his thighs tense at how sweet it sounded. his body was threatening to release so quickly. he groans “i don’t know if i'll be able to last…”

how was he gonna come so easily? you needed more. “faster?” you ask him through a breathy tone and he replies with a breathy “yeah.” right back. he doesn't hesitate to help, lifting his own hips to get you along quicker because he was gonna cum on the spot.

“nghh..” you moan, hands shifting forward towards his chest. you plop them down right beside his head, one on each side and his breath hitches out how close your mouth was to his. keeping your hips moving, you run a hand up his shirt and across his torso, abs tensing beneath your touch.

his hips stutter, eyes almost rolling back at the pleasure rolling through him. “ gonna cum..” he whimpers and you instantly kiss him, muffling his whines. his eyes close, cumming in a second from the intensity of the kiss. his mouth hangs open, trying to kiss you back but fails miserably as his orgasm hits him.

fingers digging into your hips, a wet patch forms on his boxers you can feel his essence against your cunt, dampening your panties. “oh fuck. you’re so pretty.” you pant out a praise to him and he whines, hips stopping in their tracks as his body comes to a rest.

you whine losing the friction you were receiving. “megumiii..” he opens his eyes to look up at you and mutters something inaudible. “didn’t take long for your bratiness to come back.” he huffs as you lean up.

“m’ not bratty, you just didn’t make me cum.” he raises an eyebrow and looks down between the two do you. of course he knew you didn’t come but was it really that hard? his exhausted body reaches out, running a thumb along the length of your heat which makes your breath catch. he looks up at your expression from the noise you made from his touch.

his thumb traces over your clothed clit, rubbing small circles. you were so wet, panties soaked from his cum and your slick. “nghh, f-fuckk..” you hiss, eyes closing and hand coming to rest on his free one that’s holding your thigh still.

desperate for more, you buck your hips forward against his hand. it felt good, ripples of pleasure running up into your core. “faster, please.” pleading, he quickened his pace, as well as applying more pressure. his thumb makes fast circles around your aching bud which makes your thighs tense, core clench at how good he was making you feel.

his eyes are wide and full of admiration as he watches your expressions of pleasure run over your pretty face. “please please, m’ so close megumiii..” you plead with him. the pad of his thumb was moving so swiftly, making you feel like you were on cloud nine.

more, more, and more he adds pressure, finding that right spot to push before you’re coming apart in his arms. a few curses leave your mouth in breathy moans. your ears feel hot, blinding white spots cloud your vision as your climax washes over you. “s-shittt..!” you cry out, hand coming down to stop his thumb that was still circling your sensitive bud.

he immediately stops and smiles at how much of a mess you are. you grumble at him when he laughs at you. he presses a kiss to your hand before removing his own from between your thighs. he was strung out, laying back and trying to catch his breath. “we never talk about this.” he gives you a small glare as you move off of him and pull up your shorts. “right.” he agrees and glances down at his cum drenched boxers.

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

part 2 maybe? here’s part two

[matchaverse]

Smau of logan n reader but reader is a Williams teammate n they both r so inlove they didn't even notice, and they do get together and the reader posts him alot whereas logan doesn't like posting much

Birds of a feather | LS2

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!williamsdriver!reader

summary: from being teammates to lovers but you question logan’s commitment to you when he lacks in the social affection

type: smau and written

a/n: logan will be getting the season he deserves in this fic

face claim: pictures from pinterest

2023, March 5th.

“nervous?” you ask as you peak into logan’s driver room. sargeants is your new teammate, it’s his rookie year and the first race of the season here in Bahrain.

logan chuckles softly as he sits in his fireproofs, looking up from his lap to meet your gaze.

“yeah..”

“don’t worry, you will do great. i have faith in you”

“thanks..i appreciate that, especially coming from you.” logan tells you.

- - - - - - -

p10 and p12 are the places the two of you got. you got points for yourself and for the team, and logan was so close of getting some points.

you walk into the williams garage and see logan sitting there staring out into space.

“what’s got you down rookie?” you ask walking up to him, taking off your balaclava and removing your hair tie, letting the hair flow down your back.

“it’s just..p12..”logan mumbles.

“it’s your first year in f1 and you placed really well. don’t get so worked up over it” you tell him, taking a seat next to him.

“i wish i could have gotten us some points” logan confesses.

“first race of the season logan, we have so much time” you smile, giving him a pat on the back.

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🦅🦅🦅🦅 p10 and p12 baby!!

replies:

logansargeant: I HATE THAT PICTURE PLEASE 💀

charlesleclerc: don’t let your teammate turn you into an american 😭

yourusername: i’m a proud monégasque driver, dont worry

pierregasly: i was scared for my life with you right behind me

yourusername: as you should be 🫶🏻

- - - - - - - -

2023, November 26th.

[instagram] yourusername

liked by logansargeant, charlesleclerc, and 839,639 others

tagged | @/logansargeant @/williamsracing

yourusername | p5 and p6 for williams! great season this year and cannot wait for next year!! 🤍🤍

username: hello???? the first pic??

username: oh yall together together!!

username: the hand placement 😫😫

logansargeant: this was a great rookie year 🫶🏻

yourusername: 🥹🥹 you did so good this year

charlesleclerc: the 4th pic??

logansargeant: NO PLEASE DONT LOOK

yourusername: he tried to get me to touch a fish…

charlesleclerc: *gasp* no!

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🥹 he’s so pretty

replies:

username: it’s been months, why doesn’t logan post about you?

username: cuties!!

charlesleclerc: you’re not in monaco???

yourusername: 🫣 i’m in the states

charlesleclerc: traitor!!

- - - - - -

you know logan loved you, he made it known everyday but seeing comments on twitter or your instagram of people asking why he doesn’t post you kinda makes you question it.

you sit on the bed looking at logan as he scrolls through his phone. logan notices you staring for a while so he shifts to look at you.

“why you staring baby?”

you shrug, shaking your head and looking back at your phone.

“dont shake your head” he says sitting up on his elbow and his free hand grabs your chin to make you look at him. “you’re thinking of something, tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours”.

“it’s just..it’s stupid lo..”

“nothing is stupid with you”

you smile softly, a soft sigh leaving your lips.

“why don’t you post me?” you ask softly.

logan shrugs, removing his hand from your chin and sitting up properly.

“i don’t know..im not really a social media person”

“i know that babe..that’s why i said it’s stupid”

logan nods slightly, eyes flickering to your phone seeing twitter open. he grabs your phone and looks through the comments. you just sit there and let him.

logan sigh and puts your phone down on the bed, grabbing your hands.

“baby i love you and im sorry it makes you doubt my love for you..ill do better” he says.

you shake your head. “i don’t doubt your love i know you love me..”

“i’m gonna post more about you”

“you don’t have to”

“but i want too”

- - - - - - - -

[instagram] logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 638,946 others

tagged | @/yourusername

logansargeant | my love 🤍

yourusername: logie 🥹

logansargeant: i love you

username: logan saw yall saying he didn’t care and shut that DOWN!

username: oh he’s down bad

username: she got him to dress up as ghostface???

yourusername: got him wrapped around my pretty little finger

charlesleclerc: MY EYES!!

yourusername: YOU POST WORST ABOUT ALEX

williamsracing: this is our team couple!!

logansargeant posted a story

caption: my girl is better than yours 🤍

replies:

yourusername: LOGAN!!

logansargeant: 🤤🤤

oscarpiastri: NOT SOMETHING YOU SHARE???

logansargeant: too bad

[penkura]

Everybody Knows

Summary: You want to keep it a secret as long as you can, but living on a pirate ship makes that difficult.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of vomiting, slight food aversions, loving husband Sanji (not a warning tbh haha)

Note: Everyone, hi!! I wrote this before I ever finished 'knowing', and I just couldn't help but to share it here now that that's completed! I loved writing this so much, and yes, this is one of the two one-shots that are connected to 'knowing'! I'll post the second next week most likely! This also takes place about four to five years after the end of 'knowing'! I hope you all will enjoy this!!

“Sanji, look, look!! It’s positive!”

“Wait. No way, really?!”

Your smiling and giggling while showing off the positive pregnancy test ended up being contagious, Sanji grinning when he saw it as he wrapped you in a tight hug and spun you just a little. He couldn’t do it too much after all! You’d just found you were likely carrying a precious blessing, he didn’t want to make you dizzy or sick or anything!

It’d been nearly four years since your wedding on the Thousand Sunny after the events in Wano, and just about two years since you decided to start trying for a baby, but now! Now you were pregnant! Finally, after what felt like so much longer than it should have been. You hadn’t told anyone that you two were even thinking about having a baby, you wanted to keep it as secret as possible, and it taking almost two years to even get to the point of a positive test was definitely keeping it secret.

Honestly, when you’d told him you wanted to try having a baby, Sanji was ecstatic and nervous all at the same time. Of course he wanted to be a dad, he’d thought about it for so long, especially once you two married. But, with the life of a pirate, it couldn’t be that safe, could it? Obviously others had done it, Gol D. Roger had kids on his ship, Whitebeard did too, and Big Mom had all her kids (don’t remind him of that though, poor man thought he’d never see you again). The world had become moderately safer, people weren’t as terrified of pirates anymore, specifically your crew with how much you had helped others.

When you did tell him, you had made sure no one else was around and that it was about bedtime for most of the crew. You’d stay in the kitchen with Sanji while he finished off the dishes, telling you what he was thinking about cooking the next day for meals most nights, and that was the perfect time. A few of your crewmates came through to wish you both goodnight. Nami had done so early so she could check the map and log pose, making sure you were heading in the right direction. Zoro had the first night shift and had, like always, just requested someone bring him some sake after a while. Brook had chosen to spend some time playing his violin on the deck, Franky was likely in his workshop you thought. Robin came and said goodnight a bit later, saying she’d be joining Zoro in the crow’s nest for a bit with her latest book. You hadn’t been entirely sure about where Jimbei was at first, then heard him on the deck with Brook. Luffy and Usopp had tried to sneak in with Chopper to get a late night snack, making you giggle softly when you saw them come in the door as quietly as they could, before Sanji threw bread at them and chased them out, shouting “that’s all you get! The kitchen is now closed, goodnight unless you want to work!”

Hearing your giggle made Sanji turn back and smile at you, his lovely wife! He still couldn’t believe you two were married some days, just about two years at this point. Before he even started on the dishes, he stopped and gave you a kiss on the top of your head, saying “Once I’m done with the dishes we can head to bed, okay?”

“Sure!”

You tried to keep your focus on your own book while he worked, but your thoughts kept jumping around. You started one thought and lost it, wondering what it was before it came back, and your face heated up at the thought you’d been having the last few weeks anytime you were alone with your dear husband. Every time you’d try and bring the subject of having a baby up to Sanji, someone would interrupt and you’d back down, nervous they’d hear and it would spread around the ship before you even started trying.

You just wanted to be a mom on top of being a pirate, nothing more to it. And you knew Sanji would be an amazing father. No matter how his biological father was, Sanji would be different, he’d had Zeff as his chosen father, his real father. You knew he would be okay.

When Brook started to play what sounded like a familiar lullaby from the East Blue, it made you smile. You checked around quickly to make sure the coast was clear, before getting up from your spot at the table and walking over to Sanji, giving him a hug from behind that made him greet you.

“Sanji~?”

He hummed a bit while finishing drying another dish, “Yes, darling? What can I do for you?”

Smiling just a bit and burying your face in his shirt, you quietly made your request, “I want us to have a baby.”

It was loud enough for him to hear it, nearly causing Sanji to drop the plate in his hand as he choked a bit on his cigarette. Carefully, he set the plate down before turning around and taking your face in his (still damp) hands, trying to make out if you were joking with him or not. All you did in return was smile softly, nothing but love for him in your eyes. Once he realized your smile was sincere and that’s what you really wanted, he smiled widely and nodded, kissing you all over your face.

“Of course, of course, mon amour!!” he was almost as quiet as you were, he could tell you didn’t want anyone else to hear this precious desire yet, “Absolutely, whatever you want, as many as you want!”

You giggled while he kept kissing your face and you wrapped your arms back around his shoulders. "One would be a good start."

Now, you finally had the positive test you’d been anxiously waiting for. Every other one you’d taken that came up negative frustrated both of you at times, but every time it happened, seeing how upset you were, Sanji would just hug you and say it would happen one day, he just knew it would. You’d just keep trying and praying and hoping until it did.

And finally it did. The second line on the test was faint, but you could see it. You had a positive test!

After you two had calmed down from your excitement, you decided to keep the news secret for the time being. You wanted either Chopper or a doctor at the next island to confirm that your test wasn’t a false positive before you told anyone. The ship was due to land at an island that had a large town on it the next day, so Sanji agreed on taking you to a doctor once you did, under the guise of getting some ingredients to store (of course he did need to do that shopping, but making sure you really were pregnant was top priority). You absolutely trusted Chopper as a doctor, but you knew it was likely word would spread sooner than you wanted it to, so you made the choice to go to a doctor once you docked at the next island instead.

Some of your crewmates picked up on how you two acted through the day, but didn’t think too much of it. You guys were sickeningly sweet to each other most of the time anyway, it was gross how lovey-dovey you were (to Zoro anyway). A few times you’d be doing your chores, and someone, namely Robin or Nami, would catch how Sanji, who had been handing drinks and snacks to those who wanted them, would catch you out of the corner of his eye, before quietly watching you for a moment, deciding to go over and offering to take your work off your hands. You just smiled and said he could help if he was that bored and he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead gave a smile and a nod, helping you finish your chores a little faster.

Nami noticed first how weird Sanji was acting towards you. Normally he'd be his regular self, providing her and Robin with drinks and snacks in his normal way, before going over the top to do the same for you. It made sense since you were his wife, but that day he seemed…off? Almost like something had happened to calm him down. His normal acts of treating them like queens were a bit more subdued, and then with you, the one he almost treated like a goddess, he seemed like he'd been hit with a tranquilizer that made him more gentle, soft. It was very odd.

“Hmmm, Robin? Do you think those two are being…weird?”

Robin looked up from her book just enough to see Nami watching you two again; you were playing a card game with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper, while Sanji stayed nearby just watching. This was the most they'd seen him out of the kitchen in a while, it definitely was odd.

“Sanji is being a bit more protective of her today.”

“Is [Y/N] sick or something?”

“She seems normal to me. Maybe she’s pregnant.”

Nami laughed a little louder than she intended, but it didn’t gain yours or Sanji’s attention. It did gain Luffy's, who looked over wondering what Nami was laughing about before returning his attention to your card game.

“That’d be something.”

Neither girl dared to ask you about it that day, just in case they were incorrect and said something that could be considered offensive. They didn’t even know if you two wanted to have kids in the first place, maybe you just didn’t feel well and Sanji was just being the overprotective husband to his sick wife. The last time you'd been sick he barely left your side and got some help with the cooking so he could take care of you.

When it was dinner time, you were very careful to not let anyone notice how the smell of the fish you were having was making you nauseous. When Luffy asked why you weren't having any, you made the excuse of not feeling very well, deciding to forgo the fish to keep from making yourself sick. It wasn't technically a lie, you just made it sound convincing enough that no one questioned you further.

A silly argument broke out about who would get your share since you weren't eating the fish, and it made you laugh along with Nami. Luffy and Brook both wanted it, Usopp said it should be left for the next day because maybe you'd feel up to eating it then, while Chopper tried to ask you what was wrong and you just told him your stomach was a bit upset, he said he'd give you something to help if you wanted.

You really did impress Sanji with how well you were keeping your little secret. If it weren't for your restraint, he'd have told everyone by now, he was sure of it. It was taking everything in him not to pick up a transponder snail and call Zeff to let him know the good news. He knew you'd let him as soon as it was really, truly confirmed, he was just so anxious to tell someone.

Everyone cleared out after dinner minus you and Robin, she decided to stay behind and help with clearing the table, something you normally did to spend some extra time with your husband that he greatly appreciated.

However, this time, Sanji kept trying to make you stop helping.

"[Y/N], please, sit down! Robin and I will take care of the table." Sanji really, really wanted you to sit down and take it easy. If you were pregnant, you needed rest! You might be growing a whole new person inside you! You'd need all the energy you could have over the next few months!

"Sanji, it's ok! I can help."

"[Y/N]," Robin gave you a smile as she looked between you and Sanji, "if you aren't feeling well, I don't mind helping tonight. You should go let Chopper check you though, just to be certain it's not something to be worried about."

You bit the inside of your lip, wanting to tell Robin why Sanji was being so much more protective over you, but you weren't sure if you should. You viewed her like an older sister, and knew that if you did tell her, she'd keep your secret. Robin would take any secret you told her to the grave. Instead, you looked at Sanji with a slightly pleading look that caused him to just know what you were thinking. Sanji gave you a smile and nodded, which made you smile in return.

"Robin, the only reason Sanji is like this right now is because we got a positive pregnancy test this morning."

Honestly, Robin was joking earlier when she made that suggestion to Nami, but hearing you confirm her silly thought actually made her smile even more at you.

"Really? That's wonderful!"

Nodding, you started to almost beg for her silence on the matter.

"We don't want anyone else to know yet, so I haven't gone to Chopper for real confirmation. We're going to go find a doctor on the next island tomorrow to get a blood test done."

"That's a very good idea, to make absolutely sure your test was positive."

Sanji nodded, setting a hand on your shoulder. "So…could you keep it a secret please? Just until we have it confirmed."

"Of course. Your secret is safe with me."

Robin then joined Sanji even more in telling you to sit and relax, to the point you decided to head to bed with a laugh when Sanji said he didn't mean you had to leave. All you did was kiss him and say you'd see him when he finally came to bed himself.

You took a quick shower, before changing into your pajamas and choosing to lay in bed, hair still a bit wet but you didn't care. You wanted to see that positive pregnancy test again. It still felt surreal to you that it might be happening. You might become a mother in a few months.

The two faint, pink lines were still there, you hadn't been dreaming all day.

Gosh I hope it's not a false positive…

Eventually Sanji did come to bed with you, after his own shower and with his hair still damp too. You barely even moved when he laid down next to you, setting his hand on your stomach while you kept staring at the test.

"It's so weird."

"Hmm?"

"To think that we might be having a baby. It feels weird, doesn't it?"

He nodded a bit, while you finally laid the test back down on your nightstand and turned to face your dearly loved husband with a smile.

"You might get to be a dad soon."

"And you might get to be a mom soon."

Your giggle never failed to make him smile, even more than he already was. Sanji wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, hugging you and burying his face in your hair.

"I love you…no matter what we find out next, I love you so much."

You returned his hug and sighed happily, content with where you were now. You really hoped and prayed your test was accurate, that soon you'd be parents, you'd have a baby of your own to care for and love as well.

"I love you too, Sanji."

All would be well.

+!+

"All right everyone, I have your allowances for today!"

The normal culprits of bad spending habits cheered or thanked Nami, while you gladly took your decent sum and pocketed it immediately. Of course you wanted to look for some clothes, but you had no idea how much a doctor would charge you for a test, so you hoped the allowance Nami gave to you would be enough for both.

Usually you'd join in on drawing straws to see who stayed on the ship to guard it, but before you even could take one from Usopp, Sanji took your hand and told everyone you had decided you were going with him to get groceries this time. Not a single one of your crewmates questioned it, the rest of them drawing straws and Zoro and Jimbei being the lucky ones to stay on the Sunny. Once everything was settled, the rest of you left the ship and broke off in different directions. You stopped a local and quietly asked her where a doctor or women's clinic was, and she was kind enough to lead you and Sanji there.

After the kind older woman left you, the two of you didn't go inside yet. Your nerves had picked up and Sanji could tell. He felt the same way, you both had the same thought running through heads.

What if it was a false positive? What if all your hopes you'd had over the last 24 hours were about to be dashed and you weren't really going to have a baby?

Despite all the fears and worries, Sanji held your hand just a bit tighter and it brought you out of your thoughts and you looked at him.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

You thought for a second, then shook your head. "It's ok, I can go. You need to go grocery shopping so we're back on the ship at the meeting time."

Although he really did want to go with you, Sanji nodded and gave you a tight hug, kissing your forehead. "No matter what they say, I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do!" You laughed a bit, leaning up to give your sweet husband a kiss. "I love you too, and I know it's all gonna be okay. Meet you here in about an hour?"

Sanji nodded, letting you go but letting his fingers linger on yours as you turned and walked into the clinic. He stayed for a few minutes, before turning to go find the shopping district and get his grocery shopping done by the hour time was up, saying silent prayers that the news you brought back would be good.

+!+

The hour you had agreed on had passed, Sanji was waiting for you outside the clinic nervously. He'd honestly expected you to be outside and waiting for him already, but maybe something was wrong? Did something happen that was keeping you there longer than you expected? He prayed it wasn't something along the lines of you getting your pregnancy confirmed but being told you'd lost the baby already. That would devastate both of you after the time you'd had even just trying to get pregnant.

No, no, don't even think that. Everything is fine.

Every time someone exited the clinic and it wasn't you, Sanji got even more anxious, wishing you'd finally step out. He'd nearly gone through another two cigarettes while waiting, knowing you'd be upset with him over it but he couldn't help it. The nicotine was at least calming his nerves somewhat.

I'll have to apologize to [Y/N] later.

Finally, after another almost twenty minutes, you left the clinic and his nerves calmed a bit more but his heart started racing, wondering what you were going to tell him. You hadn't even looked up from whatever papers you had been given, you were still reading them it looked like. But once you did and saw Sanji was waiting for you, you gave him the brightest smile he thought he'd ever seen from you, even brighter than the one you had when you two got married.

"Sanji!" You ran to him and threw your arms around him, causing him to do the same. He tried to ask you what the doctor said but the words wouldn't come out, but once you pulled back from your hug, you didn't stop smiling. "It was right! We're having a baby!"

Actually hearing you confirm that your pregnancy test was positive made Sanji unbelievably happy. Even though he could feel tears starting, he smiled at you, hugging you again even tighter than before, picking you up and spinning you a bit, and telling you how happy he was. He set you back down and released you from the hug, kissing your face and thanking you for this blessing while you laughed a bit. He didn't need to thank you, not even a little bit. It was your choice and you were glad to be having a baby with him.

After one more kiss, he ended up pulling away from you with a grin, throwing his arms in the air with tears in his eyes.

"I'm gonna be a dad!!!"

+!+

Usopp and Nami were the ones to find out next. The two had been wandering the town when they came up near the clinic Sanji had dropped you off at, not thinking much about it at the time. You had a doctor on the ship, Chopper was the best one possible!

…so why was Sanji standing outside this clinic like he was waiting for something?

"What's he doing?"

"Why would I know that?"

The two were obviously confused. Had you gone inside? Were you that sick? Why didn't you tell Chopper or anyone else?? You could have stayed on the ship instead of letting Sanji drag you to town! Granted yes, he was your husband and you didn't seem to mind at all, but still. If you weren't well, you could have stayed behind and rested instead of running through the town in the few hours Nami had given you all to explore. She had just learned it would take two days for the log to reset, so you had plenty of time to explore! Honestly, sometimes Nami thought Sanji of all people could be a touch more considerate when you said you weren't feeling well.

"[Y/N] did say she had an upset stomach last night," Usopp remembered while watching Sanji light a second cigarette, "maybe they didn't want to bother Chopper and brought her here?"

"Oh come on, they have to be hiding something." Nami was trying to think what could be so important that you two would come to a random clinic on this island instead of just going to Chopper, just as you stepped out and ran to hug Sanji. The two of you were full of smiles and excitement, making her tilt her head. "What's going on?" Nami was trying so hard to hear, she was about to just discreetly walk by and eavesdrop.

"I don't know, I can't hear them." Usopp leaned in a little more, still trying to stay hidden.

The two didn't need to wait any longer to know what you two were saying, as Sanji's outburst of shouting that he was going to be a dad told them everything and Nami gasped while Usopp's jaw dropped almost to the ground.

"She's pregnant!!"

"Did…did they plan that?!"

"Who cares, Usopp! There's gonna be a baby on the ship soon!"

The two were conflicted on if they should confront you now or wait until you told everyone, while they were deciding you and Sanji had started walking back towards the farmer's market to finish the grocery shopping, neither Nami or Usopp noticing until she went to shout for the two of you.

"They're gone! Dang it!"

"Well…I bet they'll tell us later, Nami."

"If they don't," Nami's berri eyes didn't get past Usopp, "I can try offering them some baby funds, at an interest."

"Nothing gets by you."

+!+

Getting back to the ship, you helped Sanji put away all the groceries (despite him telling, begging you to rest), before putting away the very few clothes you ended up purchasing. After paying for your appointment and the prenatal vitamins they gave you, your allowance was about half gone, but you were able to find a few cute clothes you could wear now and some pieces to put away for later on. It was a bit difficult for you to find some maternity clothing items, but you did find some cute pieces! Even more difficult was keeping those pieces hidden when you were showing the other items to Nami, Robin, and Chopper. You made the excuse that they were more intimate items which flew over Chopper's head but made Nami pull a face while Robin laughed a bit.

Nami did keep pestering you about what you did and how you spent all your money this time, but it wasn't that weird to you, she normally asked if anyone had anything left from what she gave them, and if they wanted her to put it away for the next island stop. You almost, almost told her, but just claimed your clothes were more expensive than expected.

Robin was the only person who you pulled aside and confirmed you were pregnant to. She gave you a hug and congratulated you properly, sitting with you in the room you shared with Sanji to get a little more information from you.

You'd told her that yes, this was planned, about two years later than you had originally hoped. You were nine weeks along, and intending to keep it a secret from everyone else until your first trimester was over just to be safe. The doctor you saw had said everything looked good so far, and it gave you immense relief to hear that.

Your plan was to stay on the ship the next day and tell Chopper so he could start to prepare for whatever he'd need to do to help you through your pregnancy and delivery, but you wanted to wait and tell everyone else once you passed the twelve week mark. Robin said she'd absolutely help as well, she even gave you a few books on pregnancy that you and Sanji could read through.

The rest of the day, Nami and Usopp wondered if you or Sanji were going to say anything about your having a baby. Not one word slipped from either of you, and it was starting to frustrate both of them. At dinner you were able to eat, Sanji quickly catching on that fish was making you nauseous, so he ended up making some meat instead which greatly pleased your captain.

"Sanji!! Seconds!" Luffy whined a bit and Sanji told him to hold on while he got a bit more ready, making Luffy lean over on you, "[Y/N]~~~ can I have some of yours??"

"No, Luffy!" Sanji looked over his shoulder and set a small glare on him, "[Y/N] needs her dinner!"

"But she always shares it with me~!"

"She can't right now!"

"Why not???"

"Because she–"

"--I'm starving after being sick yesterday!"

You nodded, eyes slightly wide as you realized Sanji was that close to revealing your pregnancy earlier than planned. He covered his mouth when you shouted over the two, turning back to the stove and cursing at himself.

Almost blew it, holy crap.

"But I want meeeeeaaaaat."

"You can have some vegetables, Luffy."

Luffy made a face and decided it wasn't worth it, he'd wait for more meat to be cooked. Franky was willing to share with him though, which made your captain happy at least. Once you had finished eating, you took your plate to the sink and stopped to give Sanji a hug, he whispered sorry to you, but you just shook your head, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“No worries, my dear.”

“Yohohoho, you two are so loving even with a baby on the way!”

Everything went silent. Your crewmates all stopped eating, the sound of silverware on plates was quieted as they stopped to stare at you with widened eyes, and both you and Sanji went completely stiff, you started feeling ill.

How the hell did Brook know?! You hadn’t told anyone apart from Robin, and were fairly certain Sanji didn’t tell anyone after you left him alone earlier to start on dinner. Nami had been a little persistent with you, asking you a lot of questions earlier but you didn’t tell her anything, and you didn’t know at the time that Zoro had even questioned Sanji about why he wasn’t smoking as much. Usopp knew Sanji was close to shouting at Luffy that you were pregnant, and now Chopper realized you feeling nauseous last night made more sense. Robin smiled a bit since she already knew, and Franky hadn’t thought to question anything yesterday or today, honestly thinking you were sick and Sanji was just trying to quit smoking. Jimbei had noticed you feeling sick earlier than anyone, but assumed you’d just caught something since you all were constantly out at sea and stopping at various islands, you could have picked up any kind of illness.

Luffy never questioned a thing, but hearing Brook’s statement made him break into a large grin.

“You guys are having a baby?!”

Your nausea was back, and Sanji could see it in how pale your face was becoming as you, back still turned to the table, tried to figure out whether to confirm, deny, or start asking how Brook knew.

“I…” You felt worse while trying to decide what to say, covering your mouth with your hand.

“[Y/N]? Are you–”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You pulled away from Sanji and ran out of the kitchen with your hand still over your mouth, making several of your crewmates yell for you, while Robin had run after you. Sanji almost ran after you as well, before realizing he needed an answer from a certain musician first. He set a glare on Brook that made him shudder.

“You. Who the hell told you that?!”

Brook continued to shudder while everyone else couldn’t believe the glare Sanji was giving him.

“T-t-the test was still in the bathroom trash this morning! I-i-it was only n-natural for me to assume!”

“Damn it,” Sanji pulled at his bangs, cursing himself for not suggesting you threw that in the kitchen trash or hid it under your bed until you were ready to tell people, and really wishing he could light a cigarette right then, “Fine, all right?! We’re having a baby! She’s nine weeks and we were gonna tell you all once she was past the first trimester, but guess everyone knows now!”

“Sanji–”

“You guys take care of putting the food away and the dishes, I’m going to go comfort my pregnant wife!”

Sanji threw down his apron and ran out of the kitchen after you and Robin, causing Nami to shout for him, but she didn’t follow him.

Everyone that was left, was completely silent, all mulling over the news that you and Sanji were going to be parents soon.

“S-so,” Brook was still a little shaky after seeing how angry Sanji was, “uh, did anyone else know?”

Nami and Usopp raised their hands, heads down. They only found out by mistake, but both felt awful at your precious secret basically being revealed against your will.  Surprising everyone though was Zoro who nodded.

“Wait, how did you know Zoro??”

“He told me earlier.”

“He what?!”

Rolling his eye a bit, Zoro nodded again while taking a drink of his sake. “I mentioned that he hadn’t been smoking and he ended up telling me. I didn’t want all that information dumped on me but he seemed like he was anxious to tell someone. I just happened to be the first person he talked to.”

That made more sense than Sanji just deciding Zoro would be the first person he told. It became quiet again, Luffy was thinking and pressing his index finger to his forehead before he finally said something.

“So…why did Sanji say they were waiting?”

“Well,” Chopper spoke up, a little shell shocked that he was going to have to take care of a pregnant woman on the ship, but a bit excited about it, “A lot of couples wait until after twelve weeks because the chance of miscarriage is higher before then. It’s never really zero, but waiting until after the first trimester is common practice, by then they’re more confident that the baby will make it.”

“Oh, I see!” Luffy started laughing after that, a grin on his face that seemed to start spreading to his crewmates as the information sunk in. “They’re gonna be awesome parents! I bet it’s a boy!”

“Oh no,” Nami shook her head with a small glare, “It’s got to be a girl, we need more girls on this ship!”

“I can make some SUPER toys for them!”

“I’ll make sure the baby and [Y/N] are both healthy!”

“Would playing lullabies for the child make up for this?”

“Imagine if the cook’s kid wants to be a swordsman.”

“I have some great stories of bravery and adventure to tell them!”

“I’m sure they’ll be great no matter what the child is or what they decide to do in the future.”

The other eight members of your crew continued discussing their own ideas of what your child would be like, working to clean up dinner, when Nami stopped and bit her lip.

“What’s wrong, Nami?” Luffy tilted his head at her as she stopped gathering the plates.

“I feel bad that she got sick because of this. We all made [Y/N] so nervous after Brook said they were having a baby. I hope she’s not too upset.”

“Even if she is,” Zoro had started to leave, but stopped to listen to Nami’s concerns, “the cook will take care of it. He’s her husband after all.”

+!+

“Can I get you some water, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you, Robin, but I’m fine at the moment.” You sighed a bit and leaned against your pillows, Robin nodding as she sat beside you on your bed. You’d completely lost your dinner after you ran off, Robin staying with you to keep your hair back and help you get back to your room until Sanji got there.

He almost burst into your shared room a few minutes later, running over and hugging you close.

“Are you all right, mon amour??”

Nodding, you just hugged him back. “I’m okay. I’m…upset, but otherwise just fine.”

"Rightfully so," Sanji nodded, stroking your hair a bit, "We've barely had time to process this and it's already out."

"How did–"

"The test was still in the bathroom trash can."

Hearing that, you realized it was your fault in the end, for not being more careful about how you disposed of the test. Whining a bit you leaned against Sanji again. "I'm an idiot. I didn't even think about someone seeing it there…"

"Hey, you're not an idiot. Anyone else would have done the same thing," Sanji leaned down just enough to kiss your forehead which made Robin smile before she took her leave, knowing he would make things right, "it didn't even cross my mind that we should've put it somewhere else."

"I should've tossed it overboard."

"I don't think any of the fish want something that's been peed on, love."

That made you burst out laughing, so hard you almost felt like you were going to be sick again but you knew you weren't. Seeing you smile and laugh made Sanji smile as well, as he crawled into bed by you and pulled you back into his arms. He was glad to see you smiling and laughing after the disaster that had been dinner. You deserved to be happy about having a baby, not stressed because it got out earlier than you had planned.

Once you calmed down, you laid there and stared at the ceiling for a bit, Sanji still holding you and rubbing your arm to help comfort you as you thought.

"I'm not that mad at Brook for bringing it up."

"I'm pissed at him."

"Sanji."

"It wasn't his secret to tell."

You sighed with a nod, turning to be face to face with your equally as upset husband, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I know…but now I don't feel like I have to agonize over how to tell everyone."

"I…suppose that's true…"

Thinking about the reactions you got from your crewmates, you smiled a little.

"Luffy sounded happy."

"He did, didn't he?"

"He probably thinks this means new crewmate, instead of what is essentially his niece or nephew."

Sanji laughed, nodding. "That's exactly what he thinks, I'm sure of it."

The two of you spent what felt like hours just talking about your day, the insanity of it all. Finding out you really were pregnant, that secret getting out during dinner and making your morning/evening sickness come back, and the likely reactions of your crewmates. You talked until you started dozing off, Sanji quieting his voice when he noticed you were falling asleep. Once you were asleep, he stayed at your side a few minutes longer, before deciding he needed a shower and to check the kitchen before bed.

Before he got up and left, Sanji tucked you in a bit, kissing your forehead with his hand resting on your stomach lightly.

"Sleep well. I love you both so much."

+!+

Breakfast the next morning was weirdly quiet. You'd helped Sanji get everything ready, once again despite him telling you to sit down and relax, to rest since you know, you were growing a whole new person in your womb, you needed as much energy as possible. You just ignored him, smiling and setting the table quickly as everyone else started to file in. Brook had found you earlier in the morning and apologized for the night before, which you accepted with a bright smile, telling him everything was fine.

Sanji still was angry but couldn't find it in him to glare at the skeleton anymore. If you were willing to forgive, Sanji would find a way to do that himself.

During breakfast, Luffy stood up with his drink in hand, making everyone look at him while he grinned. He wanted to toast something obviously, and everyone else raised their drinks to his.

"To Sanji and [Y/N]'s baby! Our future crewmate and niece or nephew! Hopefully nephew though!"

Everyone else laughed and shouted cheers, taking a drink, while you were fighting back tears. You hadn't fully expected all of them to be so accepting of the idea of a baby on board, but what else did you expect?

This ragtag group was your family now, your baby would have no shortage of protectors or joy in their life.

Sanji, the ever attentive husband he was, smiled just a bit seeing the happy tears in your eyes. He leaned over with a kiss to your temple, whispering "It's ok to cry if you're happy."

And you did, just a bit. You thanked Luffy, thanked everyone for being so wonderful and accepting of your baby, who hadn't even been born yet. Most of your crew responded in kind, telling you their thoughts of how they could help when the baby was born, offering to decorate a nursery, asking if you want a boy or girl. Everything they could think of that would help you and Sanji to settle into your roles of mom and dad in a few months. They offered to split up your chores among them, something you asked them not to do until later into your pregnancy. You still wanted some semblance of a routine before you gave birth and had to devote all your time to a tiny human.

Eventually, breakfast had its own little squabble as Luffy snatched the last piece of bacon when Usopp and Franky were reaching for it, a small brawl breaking out. It made Sanji yell for them to be careful around you, leading Franky and Usopp to drag Luffy to the deck to continue their little spat.

You laughed, leaning back in your chair and giving Sanji a smile.

"I love our weird family."

"Hmmm, so do I, mon amour."

All would be well, when you had your baby in a few short months. They would be welcomed with a flurry of love and adoration, not just from you and Sanji, but from everyone else as well.

Can't wait to meet you, little angel.

[stars1997]

Pls do a long freaky Quinn smut:)

Fantasies

sorry that I that i haven't been posting. i will be doing my best to get to all my request! hope you enjoy this one!

Paring(s): Quinn x reader

Warnings: (18+) smut, shower sex, jerking him off, unprotected sex, vocal Quinn, oral, some spanking, some hair pulling

(Not edited)

2.2K words

Summary: Quinn and you visit his family for Christmas. Quinn and you end up doing it in his childhood bedroom.

______

This year you and Quinn were going to spend Christmas with his family. Last year the both of you spent it with your family. Even though you and Quinn have been together for two years now you haven’t really spent much time with his side of the family. You never really understood why. Whenever he went to go spend time with his family there was always stuff stopping you form going. College was a big reason why.

But you graduated this summer so now school isn’t in the way, and you don’t start your job till the beginning of January, Quinn to this opportunity to bring you home with him for Christmas this year. You obviously said yes. Excited to finally spend more than one day with his family.

But now as you pack your bag you grew more anxious. Your foot taps fast against the carpet. You mumble to yourself about what else you should be packing when a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You let out a gasp.

“Quinn!” you turn so you’re now facing him.

“I could hear you tapping your foot all the way in the living room. Why are you nervous? You have meet them many times and they love you.” both of his hands rest on your lower back keeping you pressed against his body.

“This is the first time that I’m spending more than a day with your family. What if they change their minds and end up hating me.” You pout. He kisses the top of your head.

“Now why would that happen?” you shrug your shoulders then rest your head on his chest.

“I need to finish packing.” You mumble.

“You should pack that one dress that I like.” He smiles down at you. his hands squeeze your butt making you gasp and smack him on his chest.

“Get out so I can pack in peace.” you try to push yourself out of his grip. But he doesn’t let up.

“How about I help you pack so I can pack all the things I think you should wear.” You laugh, shaking your head before responding.

“If you packed my bag the only thing that would be in there would be my lingerie. So no, but if you want to stay in the room feel free to sit on the bed and don’t distract me because I will forget something if you do.” You poke his chest as you talk.

“Yes ma’am.” He does a little salute before letting go of you to go sit on the bed.

By the time you finished packing it was almost dinner time. You and Quinn order take out form your favorite Greek place and spent the rest of the night watching tv. You both ended up falling asleep on the couch. You woke up the next morning to Quinn shaking you awake.

“Honey its almost time to go so we can get on the plane. I already put the bags in the car and laid out your clothes for today on the bed. You just need to get ready then we will be on our way.” His voice was soft as he talked to you. you sit up on the couch taking a minute for your eyes to adjust to the lights that were on in the apartment.

You look out the window to see that it’s still dark out. You let out a little huff before getting up off the couch. Whenever you have to wake up early for something Quinn is always gentle with you. he knows that you’re not a morning person, so he always does things to make your morning just a bit easier.

It didn’t take long for you to get ready, no more than fifteen minutes. the car ride was quick too. when you finally got onto the plane and settled into your seats you were asleep with your head resting on Quinn’s arm.

_

When you got to the house you were greeted by everyone. Luke and jack helped Quinn bring your bags to your room. Ellen grabbed your hand and brought you inside. She was talking your ear off and asking you a bunch of questions before Quinn made his way back to you.

“Mom, leave her alone.” Quinn huffed out as he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you into his side.

“Fine I have to finish making dinner anyway. Everyone be in the kitchen for six o’clock please. Now you guys go change and shower to get the planes germs off you.” Ellen gave you a soft smile before Quinn pulled you upstairs and into his childhood bedroom. Quinn basically pushes you into his room closing the door shut behind him.

“You and I are so having sex in here before we leave. That’s a promise.” You let out a little giggle at his serious tone. “Don't laugh at me. 16-year-old me would high five me for sleeping with such a hot girl in my room.” You giggle again.

_

You have been with the Hughes family for a few days now. Christmas passed and they all got you a present. The rest of the family is out grocery shopping. You said you were going to stay behind to pack up your bags because you have to leave in two days. Quinn said that he was going to stay behind to help you, no one batted an eye and let the two of you stay behind.

You were bent over the bed putting Quinn’s cloths into his suitcase right above yours. Quinn comes up behind you giving your ass a hard slap.

“Exactly how I wanted you. your ass looks so good in these leggings baby. Fuck I’m getting so hard just looking at you.” he’s now standing behind you his hands on your hips.

“Fuck. Baby, please can I fuck you. I need you so bad right now.” he grinds his hard cock into you as he kisses your shoulder.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t want him too. you grind against him, matching his movements. he moves you over so he can push the suitcases out of the way before he bends you over the bed.

He spreads your legs with his hands before getting down on his knees. He grabs the seam of your leggings and rips them. You let out a gasp. he moves your underwear to the side before he dives right in to eating you out. His tongue sliding in and out of you a few times before he moves his mouth to suck on your clit.

“Fuck Quinn. Don’t stop please. Need more, please.” He was quick to answer your request by sliding two fingers into you. you scream his name your hands gripping the sheets.

His other hand comes up to slap your ass. Quinn loves eating you out he could do it all day if you let him. but Quinn knew that you had limited time. He pumped his finger a few more times before completely standing up. you hear shuffling behind you but only for a second.

His cock now resting on your ass for a second before he lines his tip with your entrance slowly pushing in. he didn’t wait too long before he started pounding into you.  you let out a moan. Reaching one of your hands behind you to grab on to him.

one of his hands rest on your hip as he thrusts into you his other hand now holding onto your wrist. he slows his thrust down a little so he can spread your legs wider.

“Give me your other hand. good girl.” you bring your other hand behind your back. his hand now wrapped around both of your wrists.

“Now you got to keep quiet for me. Do you think you can do that?” his thrust now picking up again. you nod your head in response not able to form any words. he gives you a little slap on the ass.

“Fuck. you like this don’t you? you liked being fucked knowing that my family can come home any minute. You like the idea of being caught don’t you baby? That why you always make me fuck you in the car after a game.” all you could do was let out little moans with every thrust. His words turning you on even more.

“You know you’re the first girl I have ever fucked in my room. Aah fuck. You’re squeezing my cock so tight baby, fuck.” He let go of your hands so he could grip your hips with both of his hands. He starts pulling your hips to match his thrusts. You could feel yourself getting closer to your release.

Your hands grip the sheets your knuckles turning white. You have to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a moan.

“Good girl. Fuck your doing so good baby. Cum for me, fuck.” You let out a moan. Quinn was quick to follow behind you. his movements stop as he cums inside you.

He grips your hair and pulls so your body is now up right. He turns your head so he can see your face. He kisses your lips.

“You did such a good job baby. Your always so good for me. How about we go and take a shower and ill help you get cleaned up.” you give him a lazy smile and nod your head.

-

Luckily for you guys’ Quinn had a bathroom that was connected to his room. You followed Quinn into the bathroom. He turned on the water and after a few minutes stuck his hand in to feel the temp of the water. When he took his hand out, he turned around to look at you, you were taking of your bra.

He pulled you closer to him by your waist, kissing you all over your face then moving down your neck. His lips stop between your tits before he grabs one of them and wraps his lips around your nipple. He flicks his tongue a few times before sucking. Your head fell back as your hands move to his hair.

Your grip on his hair was tight. Pulling hard on it as he continues to suck on your nipple. He lets out a grunt with every harsh tug on his hair.

“Quinn, please.” You breath out.

You don’t know exactly what you were asking him to do but you needed him again so bad. he took his lips off you before pulling down your pants and then taking off his cloths.

You both make your way into the shower. the nice warm water hitting your skin. you put your hair under the water before reaching over to your shampoo putting some in your hand before rubbing it into your hair.

You and Quinn took the time to just enjoy the quiet but all your brain could think about is repaying the favor. You grab the soap and lather it up on the scrubby, rubbing it up and down Quinn’s back. you bring both your arms around the front of his body bringing both your hands to his chest. You scrub his chest, brining your other hand down to his cock. you wrap your hand around the base of his cock stroking it slowly, your thumb swiping over the tip. His hand wraps around yours, moving your hand faster.

“Fuck, yes. God your hand feels so good. I love when you jerk me off. I love your hands on me baby.” You squeeze his cock; he lets out a hiss.

“Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. You know just how to get me off, you always have.” You let out a giggle. You focus on his tip for a second before going back to stroking him.

“Yes, oh god yes. I’m going to cum.” He grunts his hands move to the wall in front of him so he can support his weight as he cums.

He turns to face you, smiling at you. he grabs your face and kisses you hard.

“I love you so much!” he kisses you again. before pulling you under the water with him letting the water run down your face.

[smutstevington]

Resensitized | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You need a place to move in, and your new friend has a spare room. Turns out, he's a porn star, and now you can't stop thinking about him. What ever will you do?

Part 2 here and part 3 here :)

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: MINORS DNI PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING, smut, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no defining characteristics or use of y/n), modern day, friends to lovers...kind of? Fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, the knee thing™️, Eddie is a soft dom but also a simp, reader is his exception, and they were roommates(!)

A/N: I'm baaaaack! I was randomly inspired by this concept and couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. Please know I wrote this with as much respect to sex work as I could, but there might be some inaccuracies just because I'm not too familiar with the industry nowadays. Until next time! xx

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

You met Eddie at a party. He was a friend of a friend’s plus one, so he didn’t really know anybody, and you noticed nobody was talking to him, so you went over there and struck up a conversation.

Eddie was sweet. Eddie was goofy. Eddie was a little rough around the edges, but ultimately gave you good vibes. You ended up talking to him for quite a while, and when the night came to an end, you realized you didn’t want to stop talking to him. 

It wasn’t, like, a crush thing - although, he was handsome and definitely crush material - it was more that it was hard making friends as an adult, and you liked being around him. So many times, you’d met people and left them just as fast, and you didn’t want that to happen with Eddie.

You gave him your Instagram, which he followed, and then you requested to follow him back, which he accepted. 

You didn’t talk much for a month or two. He didn’t really post anything, but would comment or react to your posts and stories. Most often, you complained about your living situation - your landlord and your roommates were awful, and eventually your lease came to an end. You jokingly posted - “who’s gonna help me find a new apartment?”

Eddie replied - I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I might be able to help.

It turned out that Eddie had a room vacant in his two-bedroom apartment. The idea seemed kind of out there at first, but you realized it wasn’t much different than searching for roommates online. Besides, this was safer, since you knew Eddie already, and you couldn’t afford an apartment by yourself, so…

You went over to look at his place, and holy shit. It was incredible there. Clean, although slightly cluttered with his various belongings - movie posters, music, video games, and the like. Also, the rent he was asking for was absurdly low. It felt like a no-brainer.

“Eddie, this is - I mean, this is perfect,” you told him. He grinned. 

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Uhh, there’s just one thing I feel like I should tell you before you move in.”

“What is it?” you asked. Suddenly, you saw Eddie get nervous, and you couldn’t possibly predict what would warrant that reaction. He took a deep breath. 

“Maybe you already know, but it feels like you don’t know? So I just - ugh. If you don’t know, I think I gotta tell you.” You stared at him, confused.

“Eddie, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

He smirked slightly, then sighed as his hands fell to his sides.

“I…do…porn?” he said at last. You stared at him blankly as you processed this.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” you replied. “Like OnlyFans?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Look, I - I’ve done it for a few years, and I guess I’m kinda popular. It’s why a lot of the time, people stay away from me, because it puts them off. Or, they’re embarrassed about recognizing me, which I guess I understand. But anyway, that’s why I was surprised you never said anything or asked me about it. Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.” 

Huh.

“I…really didn’t.” 

It wasn’t that you were judging him - not at all - but living with someone who did that sort of thing brought up all kinds of questions. Eddie’s anxiety returned. 

“Ah, shit. That ruined everything, didn’t it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just - It’s how I make money, but it’s not my whole life or anything. But I felt like you should at least know about it if you were gonna live with me.”

“Do you do any of it here?” you asked. Eddie shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

You nodded slowly.

“Like, in the living room or just your room?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to assess how you felt through your line of questioning.

“Uhh - my room. I mean, I guess there was one time on the couch, but for the record I’ve gotten a new couch since then. Oh, and if you move in and don’t want me filming anything here, I won’t. Not even solo stuff. Shit. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, I just have a pretty casual view on sex and I kind of forget that not everybody -”

“I think I’m okay with this,” you decided. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You looked around the beautiful apartment that would save you a crap ton of money, and you realized you couldn't pass this up. Besides, you weren’t a prude. “My last roommates had loud sex all the time, and our walls were so thin it felt like I was intruding, somehow.” Eddie laughed, his anxiety easing slightly. “Plus, I don’t care what you do. I bet it’s good money. As long as I’m not in any of the videos, we’re good to go.”

“Wow,” he responded, stunned. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be so cool about it.” You shrugged.

“Just don’t eat my food and we should be fine,” you concluded. 

“Deal,” he replied. You shook his hand, and thus began your time as Eddie Munson’s roommate.

-

Ohhhh, this was a mistake.

Living with Eddie was a total breeze for the first two months. He was respectful and didn’t talk about work at all unless you asked him about it, which you didn’t. You both were pretty busy people so you didn’t even see each other that often. 

But then, two months in, you got curious and watched one of his videos.

Holy. Shit.

First of all, you couldn’t believe you’d never stumbled across him before in your searches, because he was, like, really popular. He’d undersold himself, for sure. Although, you didn’t watch porn that often (you preferred reading it or listening to it), because usually there was something off about it. Like, the women felt like they were acting, or they weren’t even trying to hide that they were acting and were really bad at it, or the dirty talk was weird, etc etc. 

Eddie’s videos were not like that. 

(Yeah, after the first one you watched a few more).

Look, the man knew what he was doing. He had chemistry with everyone, and something about it was captivating. It’s not like you were getting off to them - that would have been weird - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you the fuck on.

He hadn’t been lying either about the locations. None of the videos you’d watched were recorded at the apartment. 

You weren’t sure if you would have cared if they had been, though. Like, as long as any shared furniture was cleaned after, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Pretty much every couch anywhere you go has been used for sex at some point. So, this wasn’t much different.

Anyway, watching Eddie’s videos had been a mistake, because now when you saw him in the morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his robe, you knew what he looked like naked.

Fuck.

“Morning,” he said casually. “Want some?” You nodded, and then he took another mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it for you. When you went to the kitchen counter to grab it from him, his knuckles brushed yours, and you jumped a little at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. You went to the fridge and took the creamer from the shelf, then topped off your coffee with it. 

“How’d you sleep?” you asked. 

“Good,” he replied. “Oh, so I’m going to the grocery store in a bit. You need anything?” You took a sip of your coffee before answering. 

“Uhhh, yeah, but I was actually planning on going myself,” you said. 

“We could go together,” he suggested.

You took another sip of coffee as a way to stall, even though it was too hot. You had no reason from his perspective to say no - the two of you had gone on errands together a few times, and it had been fine. Besides, you legitimately had to go to the grocery store, so if you said no and went later it would just look suspicious.

”Sounds good,” you agreed with a smile. He smiled back, then nodded. 

“Great, just let me know when you’re ready.”

You finished your coffee in your room, because being around him was making you nervous. It was so dumb, feeling this way. Nothing had changed. You were the same people you’d been yesterday. Watching that video was an incredibly poor choice, but at the same time, how were you supposed to refrain? You lived with a guy who was famous for getting women off. You wondered how you hadn’t known any of this when you’d first met him, but then pieces came together. The reason he was alone at the party. Why his Instagram was private. Why he didn’t have a roommate. 

When you agreed to move in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be weird about it, and now here you were, hiding in your room because you were too awkward to maintain small talk with your roommate. 

Eventually, you got dressed and psyched yourself up for what was to come. You just had to get those videos out of your mind, that’s all. 

Easy enough, right?

Wrong!

“Did you listen to the song I sent you yesterday?” he asked as you walked to the car.

“Uh, no, not yet,” you replied. He clutched his heart as if you had broken it, then laughed.

“Okay, well then I guess I know what we’re listening to on the way.”

Once again, all of this should have been easy like it always was. But you couldn’t stop staring at his hands on the steering wheel, the rings on his fingers, and - God forbid - his lips. And his eyes? Forget it. 

“Good song,” you said, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he teased. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral vision. “Everything okay? You’re quiet today.”

“Everything’s fine,” you blurted out, maybe too quickly to be convincing. 

“Ooookay,” he responded. “Well, I don’t believe you, but you can keep your secrets.”

You remained slightly awkward and flustered around him, particularly any time he touched you. He’d tap you on the shoulder to get your attention, or reach across you to grab a bunch of bananas that you were standing in front of, and it came to a point where you told him you had to go off on your own to grab something just because you knew you were totally giving yourself away. But after a few more minutes to yourself in the chips aisle, you felt relatively normal again. 

Disaster only really struck on the way home. 

“So, this tattoo place on the right,” he said. “That’s where I usually go. The guy who works there is incredible. His designs are sick as hell.”

“How many do you have?” you asked. He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.

“I guess it depends on what you’d count as one,” he replied. “Like, I have almost a half-sleeve on my right arm, but I didn’t get it all done at once.”

“Count them however you’d like.” He thought about it some more, then shrugged. 

“I have a lot of them, and I always want more.” 

“I’ve heard it’s addictive,” you replied. “So, what would you get next?”

“I’m thinking about adding to the one on my thigh,” he answered. 

“The witch?” you asked. He raised his eyebrows. The tattoo on his thigh was pretty iconic, actually. It was a woman on a broomstick with her tits out. Not something you would ever personally get, but Eddie pulled it off. “Are you going to give her a friend? Or a bra?”

Eddie snorted laughing, then covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. It didn’t work, and he burst into laughter again.

“Come on, my joke wasn’t that funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Eddie’s laughter finally faded enough for him to explain. 

“I never told you what the tattoo was,” he informed you. Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake.

“I - um -”

“That’s what’s going on! You looked me up!” he exclaimed. Despite your absolute humiliation, he seemed to only find it amusing. “Don’t get all shy about it. It’s fine. I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”

“Can we not talk about it?” you asked, trying to awkwardly laugh with him but mostly wishing you were six feet underground. 

“Whatever you want, roomie,” he replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I didn’t do anything wrong.” You bit your lip, then released it.

“No, you did pretty much everything exactly right,” you responded, deciding to lean into the awkward situation. Eddie licked his lips and smirked. 

“Good to hear,” he said, smug. He pulled into your apartment complex, parked the car, and took the keys from the ignition. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in there, so you rushed out of the car and made a beeline for your front door as soon as you were able. He caught up as you worked the lock open, and you could feel his eyes on your shaking hands. “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” he said.

The door unlocked and you pushed it open, but it’s not like the apartment you shared with him was going to be any less charged. You tried to continue acting less nervous than you were. 

“Oh, you’re flirting with me now?” you teased, leaving your keys on the counter. His voice continued behind you.

“I flirt with everyone,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll reel it in. Just, we were talking about -”

“No, I know,” you interrupted. You turned around, deciding to face this situation head on, since you were already knee-deep in it anyway. “Okay, let’s talk about it.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“About what I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. What do you wanna know?”

You took a deep breath and asked something that you’d been wondering for the last two months.

“Is it weird, knowing that most people you know have seen you naked?” 

Eddie didn’t seem fazed by the question in the slightest - not that you expected him to be. He shrugged.

“I like the way I look,” he replied. “It actually doesn’t bother me at all.” You clicked your tongue to your teeth and asked another question.

“Does anything about it bother you?” To your surprise, he took the question seriously, taking his time as he came up with a response.

“It definitely feels like I live in a different world a lot of the time,” he answered. “Like, I go to work, I meet the person I’m supposed to fuck, and then I do whatever I gotta do to get them off. That’s all it is, really. After a while, it just feels like going through the motions. The excitement isn’t really there anymore. On the other hand, I make a shit ton of money to have sex with beautiful people, so…”

You tried to ignore the way the heat rose to your cheeks as he talked about work. From what you’d seen, it was clear that not one person had faked their enjoyment for him. Of course, it made you a little curious what it would be like, but not curious enough to do anything about it.

At least, not yet.

“You’ve never, like, caught feelings?” you asked. “Or maybe gotten coffee with one of them? Wait, do you ever have sex off camera?”

“Wooow, you’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” he teased, jumping up to sit on the counter beside you. Being next to him was starting to feel comfortable again, now that you were speaking freely. “Uhh, well for starters, I don’t have sex off-camera very often, honestly. My job doesn’t make it that easy to date. And yeah, I’ve met up with partners after if I feel like we’d get along, but I don’t know. It always feels more like friendship than anything else.” You cocked your head curiously.

“But you had sex with them,” you pointed out, confused.

“You’ve never fucked one of your friends before?” he asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well, like I said, my perception of this kind of thing is a little skewed.”

You nodded slowly, then realized those were all of your main questions. Talking about it actually did make things a whole lot better. 

“Thank you for being so open about it,” you told him.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he replied. “And seriously, you can ask me anything. Or, we can never talk about it again. Up to you.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

He went off to do his thing and you did yours, and that was that. Things went back to normal again, more or less - at least for another week. 

The problem was, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. When you were trying to sleep at night, your curiosity coursed through you to search his name again, and it became increasingly difficult not to succumb to it. You didn’t want to cross that line, though. It felt like a necessary boundary to have. 

Instead, you did what you usually did. You read, you listened, you pictured things in your head.

Your mind always wandered to your roommate anyway. 

One night, Eddie had left, and he was supposed to be gone until morning. You used it as an opportunity to walk around naked, watch romantic comedies on the couch, and listen to music he’d hate as loudly as you wanted. It was glorious. 

You were in your room dancing in a t-shirt and underwear, and it was turning out to be an excellent night. Eventually, your friend called, so you chatted with her for a bit on speaker phone as you put away your laundry. Naturally, Eddie came up. 

“Okay,” she said. “There’s a really simple solution here, and it’s to fuck your hot Sex-God of a roommate.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not simple, and it’s not a solution,” you replied. “And our relationship isn’t like that. I can’t believe you looked him up.”

“Of course I looked him up! One of us had to!” your friend shouted back. “And, can I just say - damn.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you responded with a sigh. “I’m just trying to be…respectful.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t care at all,” your friend noted. “But I get it, I guess. You’re a lot stronger than I’ll ever be.” You laughed.

“Thank you, I think I deserve a medal for going through this while also not having had sex in six months.”

“Absolutely,” your friend agreed. “Alright, girlie, I’m headed to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and hung a few sweaters up in your closet, then walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. The problem was, when you got there, you realized that Eddie had beat you to it.

“Want something?” he asked, bent over into the fridge.

“Fuck!” you yelled, jumping back. “What are you -? Why are you - ? When did you -?” Eddie laughed and grabbed two beers from the fridge, then closed the door and handed you one. 

“Relax,” he said. “My plans fell through so I came home early. I like your pants, by the way.” You looked down at yourself to realize you weren’t wearing any. You chuckled, then pushed him away from you.

“Dick,” you said, cracking the can open. He did the same, and then you clinked your beers together before each taking a sip. “Thank god I’m wearing some clothes. I wasn’t a few hours ago.” 

“That’s hot,” he teased. 

“Shut up.” You turned to go back to your room so you could put real pajamas on, and were confused when he followed you in. 

“Your friend has a point by the way,” Eddie said. You froze in your tracks, then pivoted to face him.

“What?” you asked, your stomach dropping to the floor. “Wait, how much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Uhhh, well I definitely heard that whole last part about me,” he replied. “Six months, by the way? I agree, you do deserve an award for that.” 

Jesus Christ.

“Oh my God I have to move out,” you said. Eddie laughed, then pulled you closer to him by the wrist. You felt your breath hitch at being so close to him. Your eyes met his, and you immediately felt hypnotized. 

“Listen,” he said, his grip on your wrist burning into your skin. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but six months is a long time, and I could help out if you wanted.”

“Eddie, are you seriously suggesting…?” The corner of his lip twitched up slightly.

“It wouldn’t mean anything, obviously. I just know you’re curious, and since you’re going through a dry spell or whatever I could be of service. And then it would be out of the way, and you could move on.”

You stared at him, having a million thoughts at once.

Yes, you wanted that very much. The thought of it alone was already making your core ache and throb for him. You knew he would blow your mind, and it had been so long…

Then again, you also knew it was a horrible idea. You both lived together, and having sex would complicate things. Most of all, you knew that - despite what he was saying - it would mean something, and you wouldn’t move on. He could, but you couldn’t. That’s not how it worked for you.

“I can’t,” you said. He nodded and dropped your hand.

“Alright,” he replied casually. “Then you should go fuck someone else so you stop thinking about me.”

“I’m not thinking about -”

“Good night,” he smirked.

He left your room, and you heard him walk to his own room and shut the door. 

He was probably right. You needed to break your dry spell. So, you did what any sensible person would do and re-downloaded Tinder. By the following night, you’d found a suitable guy to hook up with.

You invited him to your apartment instead of going to his, because it felt safer. And Eddie unshockingly had no problems with it, so that wasn’t an issue. He said he was going to stay in his room and listen to music, and to just text him when you were done. 

So…you did that. 

The sex was bad. Like, remarkably bad. The man clearly had relied on his good looks and big dick and felt like that was enough. The worst part was that he thought he was nailing it the whole time. He was only over for about 45 minutes total, after which you told him you had to get to bed. He seemed disappointed, but also he’d just had sex so he wasn’t too bummed about it. 

You texted Eddie, and within a few minutes you heard his door open and his footsteps approaching your room from down the hall. 

“Damn, he’s gone already?” he teased, staring out the window to see your Tinder hook-up driving away. “That’s a shame. I wanted to meet the man that caused you to do the worst fake orgasm sounds I’ve ever heard.” 

“Eddie!” you yelled, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself. “You said you wouldn’t listen!” 

“I got curious! Sue me!” he shouted back. “Now we’re even. Curiosity got the best of both of us.”

You stared at him for a moment, then realized he was right. You sighed.

“Fine,” you said. “Thanks for recommending I do that, by the way. Now my body count is higher and my dignity is shattered.” Eddie laughed.

“Body counts are bullshit anyway,” he replied. “Sorry he couldn’t get you there.”

“Guys usually can’t,” you told him. Which was true - you mainly could only come using toys, and most guys seemed intimidated at the idea of using them. Like it was emasculating or something.

“I bet I could,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“I bet you could, too,” you agreed. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Have fun,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the bathroom. 

Showering did clear your mind a bit, but made you no less sexually frustrated. You tried to touch yourself, but weren’t getting anywhere, so you just got yourself clean instead. You put a fresh pair of underwear on and wrapped your robe around yourself, then headed back to your room. 

Eddie was right beside your door - leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down, then took a step towards you.

“I have a question,” he said. 

“Um, okay.”

“Have you ever gotten off to my videos?” 

He asked it so casually, you needed a minute to even comprehend what he was saying, and even longer to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Eddie, what the hell?” you replied. You tried to maintain your composure, but your attempts were futile. Especially when he looked at you like that. 

“I’ve just been wondering,” he continued. “Curiosity, that’s all.” You swallowed. 

“Not to any of your videos,” you answered. 

“To the thought of me?”

Yes. Not intentionally, but yes.

Your breathing became shaky, his words enough to get you worked up again.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft. 

“I’m helping you out,” he responded. “Salvaging your night.” He hooked his finger into the tie around your waist, then tugged you even closer to him. “I mean, if you want me to. The offer is there.”

Fuck it. You were tired of fighting your attraction to him. You nodded. 

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s just get it over with.” He smiled. “How do we start? Should I lie down? Is there anything off limits? What do I-”

“Don’t think about it,” he said, answering your line of questioning by silencing you. “Get on the bed.” He let go of you so you could walk into your room and follow his orders. You watched him rub his hands together and crack his knuckles as if he was getting ready to go to work - which made sense, all things considered. Then, he followed your footsteps to your bed and made his way towards you until he was settled beside you.

His hand trailed up your body until it settled in your hair. He gripped it tightly so he could angle your head to the side, then leaned over and pressed light kisses to your neck that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Do you like things on the gentle side or more rough?” he asked against your skin. 

“Healthy mix of both,” you answered. He hummed in approval, then licked a stripe up your neck until his lips were to your ear. 

“Talk to me during, okay?” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

Okay, this was officially worth it no matter the consequences.

“I like what you’re doing,” you responded. You felt his mouth return to where it had been before, except this time he found a sensitive spot and sucked on it. You gasped, so he did it again, harder. 

“Hickies?” he asked. 

“I’d rather not have them, but also please don’t stop,” you muttered. Your eyes fluttered closed as you enjoyed the sensations. His lips were soft but firm, and every point of contact with him felt like it was on fire.

“I can work with that.” 

While he continued kissing and nipping at your neck, his hand left your hair to snake down and pull the tie on your robe until it was undone. 

You expected him to take your robe off like he was unwrapping a gift - quickly and without precision - but instead he took his time with you. He was slow and deliberate with every action, opening you beneath him little by little and addressing each new exposed part of you before moving on and continuing. He groped at one of your breasts while kissing you, then kissed down your neck and to your other breast. His lips settled on your left nipple while his fingers worked the right one - pinching, sucking, biting, driving you absolutely crazy. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. “N-need more.” He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop.

“More what?”

“Everything,” you whined. You would have been embarrassed by how into this you were, but you were too busy enjoying to feel anything other than pleasure. “More. Harder.”

“Mmm,” he said. He adjusted his technique, now grasping at you more intensely. He grabbed the soft skin at your waist and squeezed, then curled around to cradle your lower back. His lips returned to your neck, and this time he bit and sucked so hard you let out a yelp.

“Too much?” he asked, leaning back to gauge the look on your face.

“No,” you responded. “I love it.” He nodded and got back to it, continuing to suck at your pulse point while his knee dipped between your thighs to push them apart. He bent his leg to slowly drag his knee up until it reached your center. It rubbed against you, hard, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Oh, shit,” you said, your voice desperate. “Do that again.” So he did, and then you found yourself grinding against his knee at your own pace. You were definitely going to leave a wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. Your breathing picked up, and you clutched at his hand so you could lead it to the band of your panties. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric and down your slit, spreading you open and exploring the parts of you most slick with desire. He circled your clit while he kissed your collarbone, slipped one finger inside you as he bit at your breast, then added a second finger and rolled them inside you until they found the soft, spongy spot that caused your eyes to roll back in your head. His mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue circling it in time with his thumb down below. You rocked your hips against his hand, needing more pressure. You needed him to fuck you, actually, but he seemed to be in no rush of doing so. 

Your stomach tightened as you felt yourself rising for him. He was going to make you come already, when he hadn’t even been touching you for that long. 

Suddenly, you were cresting over the edge. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to prepare or warn Eddie, although he seemed to know it was happening before you did. 

You gasped and moaned and cried out his name, your vision completely blacked out. Your hips continued to buck and your legs started shaking. Eventually, the waves crashed and you were centered in your body again. 

“Okay, wow,” you said breathlessly. 

“That was too easy,” he responded. You scoffed. 

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” you replied. “You’re just as amazing in bed as you look like you would be-”

“No,” he continued. “I mean - that was too easy, and I like a challenge, so I’m gonna see how many times I can make you do that.”

Within seconds, he was making his way down your body, pulling your underwear off of you, grabbing your ankles, and tugging your body towards him. He laid your legs on either side of his shoulders and dove his head between your thighs, kissing the spot that was still extremely sensitive. It was overstimulating, but felt so good you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. He ate you out like he was poisoned and you were the antidote. He plunged his tongue into your hole as his hands spread you apart as far as you’d go. He kissed back up to your clit and settled there, teeth latching around it gently. Then, his fingers slid back inside you, and he continued to suck on you, and somehow you were already going to come again. One of your hands found purchase in his hair, and you pulled his head against you even more. The other hand clutched the sheets beside you desperately, crumpling them into a fist as you unraveled against his mouth. 

You hadn’t even realized how tightly your thighs were clenching around his head until you released him, but he didn’t move from where he’d been. He continued finger-fucking you and flicking his tongue side to side against your clit all the way through your orgasm and beyond. There was no recovery period or moment of relaxation. It hurt to have him there, a little bit, but not in a bad way. He bit at the fleshy part of your thigh so he had a second to catch his breath, but kept kissing you everywhere he had access and treating your body like it was his most precious belonging. 

Because in that moment, you did belong to him. 

Your third orgasm immediately followed the second. It was like he was destroying you - breaking down every wall you’d ever put up leaving you an absolute mess underneath him. His motions slowed, ever in tune with your body. It was like he could read your mind. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered. He sat up straight and removed his fingers from you, immediately putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “You’re really good at that.” He grinned, his mouth and chin shining. 

“It’s my favorite part,” he replied. “Are you tapping out?”

“No, I -” Your head was spinning, but you absolutely did not want this to stop. “I just need a minute.” He chuckled, wiped his mouth, then pressed a quick kiss to your ankle. He moved your legs off him and back onto the bed, and then he laid down beside you and joined you in staring at the ceiling. 

“So,” he said, his hands clasped on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you replied. Your gaze traveled down his stomach to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “So, oral really does it for you, huh?” Eddie turned to see your eyes fixed on his crotch. He exhaled sharply - the start of a laugh - then nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m good at it and I like it. But, I don’t know whether I’m good at it because I like it or if I like it because I’m good at it.”

“A real chicken versus egg kind of thing,” you said. He laughed. 

“Exactly.” 

“What else do you like?” you asked. 

“Hmm?” He seemed genuinely confused by the question.

“I mean, what else do you like? Not considering your partner’s pleasure, just your own.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we’re about to have sex,” you replied.

“Are we?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Answer me,” you told him. “I want it to be good for you, too.”

“But that wasn’t the deal,” he countered, sitting up. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” He still looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense at all. “Eddie, come on. Just tell me what you like. You’ve never been shy about sex stuff in the past, clearly -”

“I like being bit,” he answered quickly. “Especially on the neck and lips. And, like, the crook of my elbow for some reason?” You nodded, urging him to continue. He sighed, then laid back down beside you. “I like the idea of someone using me just to get off - degradation, treating me like I’m nothing, all that jazz.”

“The idea of it?” you repeated, turning on your side to face him. “You’ve never tried it?”

“Not really,” he responded. “I’m kinda known for the soft-dom thing I have going on, so that’s usually what I end up doing.” 

“Hmm.” You thought about his answer in the silence that followed, until he spoke again.

“You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“Nobody’s really asked me that before.”

You looked at him, completely baffled at the situation. This poor man had only focused on his partners this whole time. No wonder he’d grown jaded to it.

“It’s been a minute,” you said. “I think I’m ready to keep going.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You could visibly see him shift back into work-mode. His eyes lit up and focused in on you again, and his hands went to his belt buckle to unfasten it. You sat up and kneeled on the bed, then helped him take his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the floor. You shimmied your robe off your shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. He sat up in the bed with his back to the headboard so he could take his shirt off, and now you were both completely naked.

Woah.

You stared at his body, mesmerized by all the ink in his skin. You traced a finger delicately over the tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and forearms. He watched you appreciatively, a soft smile on his face, his expression peaceful. You reached over to your bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom from the box you kept there.

Then, you straddled him. 

“Hey, wait -” he said. “Look, I know what you wanna do for me, but it’s probably not gonna happen. Like, I don’t usually come from sex unless I help myself out.”

You kind of saw that in one of the videos. He’d been going with this one woman for like a half hour straight and nothing.

“I want to try,” you told him. He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on, you think only porn stars are good in bed?”

“I just don’t want you to feel bad if -”

You leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, your hands tangling in his hair. Yeah, he’d taken care of you, but you were far from satiated. You wanted him badly, and you wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made you feel.

You could still taste yourself on his swollen lips, and that’s when you realized the two of you had never actually kissed before. You broke from him, concerned that you’d crossed a line.

“Sorry, I should have asked if kissing is okay first -”

He was kissing you again before you could even get your sentence out. His arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly until your chest was against his. You tugged on his hair, hard, and felt him smirk against your lips. 

He was growing impossibly hard beneath you, which only encouraged you to keep going.

You clawed against his back and his mouth opened up for you. You used this as an opportunity to suck his bottom lip into your mouth before biting it. 

He whimpered, which was just about the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

Your mouth traveled down his jaw and to his neck, where you gave him the same treatment he’d given you.

“Careful,” he managed to say (though his voice was weak). “I can’t be marked up for work.” You nodded, then grazed your teeth across his skin. He gasped, the grip of his hands tightening on your waist. You kissed him and bit him and sucked him on both sides of his neck, leaving no spot behind and making sure you didn’t stay in one place for too long. Eventually, you felt yourself craving him again - this time, you wanted all of him. 

Your hips rocked against his erection, and you knew it was game over the moment his bare cock slid up your folds. You moaned, then reached for the condom beside you so he could put it on. You shifted yourself a bit further down on his lap as he rolled it down his length, and then your eyes caught the tattoo on his thigh that started this whole thing - the witch, in all her glory.

“She’s looking right at it,” you said, your eyes fixed to the design. Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah, uhh -” he began, flustered. “It’s her - shit, okay - it’s supposed to be a joke where she’s looking at my dick because my dick is a magic wand, but that’s dorky as shit so usually when people ask I just joke that it’s because she’s a voyeur.” You smiled, then shook your head. 

“So, why tell me the truth then?” you asked. “What makes me different?” You looked at his blown out pupils, deep brown and infinite, and wondered why you’d spent so much time trying not to look into them. Maybe because now that you’d done it, you weren’t sure you could ever stop.

“I don’t know,” Eddie answered. “I don’t know why you’re different.” 

You maintained eye contact as you lifted yourself up and lined his cock with your entrance, and then you slowly let him sink into you. 

Oh.

The immediate stretch was incredible. Eddie was well-endowed and thick, and it was going to take a little work to fit him completely inside you. You started slowly, lifting yourself up and down - all the while, your eyes stayed fixed to his. 

His hand snaked between you to rub your clit slowly, getting you wetter and allowing you to accommodate his size better. You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself, then began bouncing at a faster pace. 

You kissed his forehead, the sweat on his brow leaving your lips slightly salty. Then, you kissed the spot right next to his eyes, his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his lips again. 

Hungry. That was the best word to describe it. It felt like the two of you had each never wanted anything more in your lives as much as you wanted each other. He bottomed out inside you, and you began to lift yourself up and crash back down, slowly, but with force. 

“Faster,” he muttered. “Please, faster.” His voice was breathy and weak. A part of you wanted to tease him more - you wanted to drive him crazy and then watch him explode, just as he’d done to you. But the other part of you wanted exactly what he wanted, so you obliged. 

You started to ride him faster, rolling your hips in such a way where he was hitting the spot inside you that made you scream his name and pull his hair without abandon. He continued to work your clit until - somehow - you felt yourself building up to yet another orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you whined, continuing to fuck him exactly as you’d been doing. “I’m gonna come again.”

He whimpered your name, and then his words became incomprehensible. But you wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway, because pretty soon you were coming so hard you were transported through space and time. Seriously, the feeling was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He was taking up all the space in your body and your mind. 

“You’re so good, Eddie,” you said. Your words were muffled against his mouth, but you knew he understood them. “So fucking good.”

Your motions slowed down, and you started to make your way back to the room. He was staring at you, his eyes no longer piercing. They were soft and vulnerable instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t -”

“That one was for me,” you interrupted. “This next one's for you.”

“What-?”

Your lips crashed into his again. You’d gotten your fill - more than your fill, actually - and now you just had one goal. 

Make Eddie Munson come. 

Easy enough, you figured. He’d given you more than enough clues to tell you how. With his dick still deep inside you, you kissed down his neck to his shoulder, then lifted his arm so you could make your way to the crook of his elbow. You sucked at the tender, sensitive skin. His eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. You smirked, then dropped his arm and promptly fucked him as fast and rough as you possibly could. 

Eddie threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning and grunting and continuing to talk under his breath - only this time you were able to understand some of it. 

“Holy fucking shit…Jesus Christ…Just like that…”

Most of it was curse words. 

His fingers dug into your ass as he guided your hips exactly the way he needed them to go, and then all of a sudden he was twitching beneath you, his hands flexing, his jaw dropped. He desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone and breasts, holding you flush to him as you milked him for all he was worth. 

His breathing slowed, his face still buried in your tits. Finally, he leaned back so he could look up at you. You smiled and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed you instead - this time lightly and without urgency behind it. 

You let him slip out of you, then collapsed beside him, completely blissed out. He stayed seated and upright, although he did take the condom off and dropped it in the trash next to the bed. His eyes had turned pensive, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Everything okay?” you asked. 

“No,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He shrugged. 

“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I felt like that.” You cocked your head in confusion.

“And that’s a problem?” you wondered. You maybe would have freaked out had you not just had four orgasms - Instead, you were just concerned.

“I don’t know.”

His head turned until you could see his expression fully, and you noticed there was a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Um, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. 

“Yeah.” He grabbed your hand and took a deep breath. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

(Part 2)

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

Feel free to make requests in the comments, through DM, or using my taglist! In the meantime, check out my the masterlist on my main account where I post non-smut content :)

@welc0me-t0-hellfire @nope-thanks @names-were-taken @teary-eyed-egg @mvnsonluver @msgexymunson @micheledawn1975 @mimsthebannished @joantje @mrsjellymunson @oh-my-grace @libbyhermione @agrownupgeekgirl @vintagehellfire @spikedhe4rt @stardustingold @bebe07011 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tlclick73 @astridflowers @whisteriaremembers @martaboj92 @the-side-blog777 @demeterlindavis @starheartseddie