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textmel8r · 3 months

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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , drug and alcohol abuse , smut , allusions to hypersexuality , bisexual! toji

୨୧˚ an; okay there is seriously something wrong with my ability to tag people, certain blog names don’t come up when i search them it’s pissing me offfff SO SORRY if you’re on the tag list and you didn’t get tagged😣

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

Thunderous bangs against his apartment’s front door rouse Toji from comatose. He wakes with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut because the sunlight that flooded through the bars of his dusty blinds singed his retinas. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Toji believe his guest has walked off, and he cuddles back into the sofa with solid intentions of returning to dream state, however those plans go up in flames when more aggressive knocking chimes. The man groans, fingers clawing into the scrappy throw pillow his face is currently buried into.

“Fuck off!” Toji growls. His voice is muffled and crackling with excess exhaustion. He is so not in the mood for company right now.

“Fushiguro cut the shit, I’m not playing with you today.” Ugh, that voice. “Open the damn door, don’t make me bust it down.”

More pounding, and the rusty hinges creak from the pressure of it. Given no other choice, Toji peels himself off his crappy little couch and sits for a moment, dragging a heavy hand down his face. There’s a half empty can of Coke perched on the coffee table, amongst a plethora of other trash, and Toji snags it. It’s lost carbonation, totally flat and lukewarm, but it satiates his thirst good enough.

The knob twists, clinking against the lock impatiently. “Untwist your panties, I’m comin’,” He barks before muttering Jesus Christ under breath. It’s no surprise to see Shiu Kong when he draws open his door, standing erect with his arms crossed in irritation. Toji scowls, “what do you want?”

Shiu knocks shoulders to his when he grants himself entrance, much to Toji’s chagrin. “So you are alive?”

“Still kickin’, yeah.”

Shiu stands in the middle of the living room, flitting over the unkempt scene. It’s a mess, littered with crushed cans and hollowed take-out boxes and dirty laundry. Heavy glass bottles lined the floor near the sofa, some filled halfway with translucent, amberish liquid, some bone dry. “I see you been busy,” the man inquired, sarcastic as all Hell.

Toji sighs. “Yep.”

“You should crack a window or something, man. It reeks like the inside of a flask in here.”

“I’ll do that,” no he won’t, “what do you want?”

Shiu scoffs at his gall, but Toji wants him out of his place as soon as possible. He knows why his handler has come to visit, it’s most likely a work thing. Fuck work. Fuck Shiu for barging in and interrupting his afternoon nap. Fuck his apartment for being embarrassingly filthy.

“You’ve been ducking my calls. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Y’know, most people would take that as a sign to fuck off.”

“I’m not most people, though, am I?” He takes a seat on the couch. Toji doesn’t follow suit, choosing to stay leaned against the wall. “I’m technically your superior.”

“You think that title means jack to me?”

Shiu ignores the attitude; he’s used to taking shit from Toji for the better part of a decade now. “It should.” Silence cuts in, and he leans down to pluck one of the thick bottles off the floor by its neck. Liquor sloshes around in the constraint of glass, and Shiu holds it up to the light and skims the label. “This is cheap shit.”

Yeah, it was stupid cheap. Toji swiped it off the clearance rack at the gas station around the corner from his complex. They started tagging the alcohol, made it more difficult to steal, so he exclusively bought the least expensive liquor he could find. “Don’t gotta be smooth. Don’t gotta be much of anything, s’long as it fucks me up.” He didn’t drink rum on a Thursday at 3:42 pm for the taste.

Shiu hums, looking oddly unnerved. Still holding the bottle, he jerks it up in a slight gesture. “What’s the occasion?” Followed by an awkward chuckle. Toji itches the base of his scalp, pushing down his bed hair.

“Dunno.”

He was just sort of… regressing. Backsliding into the open arms of his beloved vices. Day drinking again, sloshing himself into liquor-induced unconsciousness that puts him to sleep for days. He starts hitting the casinos more frequently, tapping into poker games and betting away money he doesn’t have because the adrenaline of it all is orgasmic. Drugs have weaved themselves back into Toji’s routine as well; he’s been snorting the pricey shit that gets him numb in the face and leaves that nasty taste dripping in the back of his throat. Shit he hasn’t fucked with since his wife’s death.

Well, he supposes he’s always been like this. Clinging onto some sort of substance to distract himself from the pain of being alive in a Zenin’s body, no matter how damaging or problematic it may be. His childhood looms over him, even as a grown man, and it’s so terribly pathetic to still be hung up on shit that happened over two decades ago. But he apologetically is. Toji is a pathetic, woeful piece of shit who is forever haunted by memories.

Distractions. They weren’t always mutilating. Not all of them tore apart his body and soul. Sometimes, they were beautiful.

His tongue twitches in his mouth, aching to curl around a cigarette.

Shiu huffs, setting the bottle back down near his feet. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Toji nods curtly, licking at his dry lips. “I’m straight.”

“Right,” his handler responds slowly, entirely unconvinced. “You’ve been skimping out on your assignments. It’s fucking me over, Fushiguro.”

Toji hasn’t taken up a job in nearly three months. Not since the night he left your place and walked home in the pouring rain. It was funny—he hadn’t thought it was a bluff when you threatened to call the police. No, Toji expected his apartment complex to be swarmed with officers when he returned but… nothing besides crickets. That night was seared into his frontal lobe, every motion engraved and vivid behind his eyes. Still soaked to the bone, he melted into the couch and stared up at his water-damaged ceiling for hours before slumber pulled him into its embrace.

Toji hasn’t slept in his bed since.

“Oh, so that’s why you came to visit. Boss is cuttin’ your pay with me gone.” Toji smiles bitterly, then juts his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Aww, that must be so hard for you, I’m sorry. You can cry about it on the ride home in your fucking Bentley.”

“Hey asshole, this isn’t just a me thing. Your slacking affects both our paychecks.” Shiu rakes a hand through his gelled do, and Toji is acutely aware of the luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “I mean, shit, where have you even been getting your cash from lately? How have you been keepin’ the lights on in this shithole?”

That last question is a mystery to Toji, as well. Truth is, he hasn’t put a penny towards rent since he came back. Eviction was inevitable, he’d ride out the days he had left and then figure out what to do when he received his week’s notice. Only that pink slip of paper never appeared taped to his door. Surely, you weren’t still covering it… Not with the way you and him ended terms so roughly… But what the fuck else could it be? Toji wanted to ask you about it; wanted to use this entire situation as an excuse to contact you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage and resolve. Talking to you again sounded so fucking sweet, but so, so fucking painful.

Toji didn’t answer, and Shiu grimaced at his quietness. On the couch, Shiu shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his thighs. “You’re not,” he struggles for a moment to find the words, squinted eyes drilling holes into Toji’s. “Tell me you ain’t whoring again.”

Sex was Toji’s grimiest form of escapism. He started fucking other people again.

Mostly women, with a few men sprinkled in between. Gender was irrelevant; genitalia didn’t matter much to him in the grand scheme of things, Toji only fucked casually for the sensation of a warm body to hold onto. Vying for satisfaction with a partner, competing for release; it became a damn near nightly procedure at this point. Scouring bars in the dark hours for any willing participant, then fucking one out in the filth of the public restroom. His sweaty back against the stall, or him seated on the lid of a toilet. It was gross, he was gross.

Again, Toji is silent, and it speaks volumes. “God, man.” Shiu holds his face, pinching his brow bone, maneuvering the muscles in his jaw. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed, and it makes Toji feel unnaturally immature; like he were a child again, getting a scolding from the family’s housekeeper for accidentally knocking the vase at the center of his dining table over and shattering it on the ground. “That’s—you can’t be doing this again.”

“Yeah well I don’t exactly got the resume for a nine to five, now do I?” He was forever tainted by his past. No employer in the country would hire a man with four jail sentences, drug misdemeanors, battery charges, no education, no work experience… the list of Toji’s fuck ups could fill a dictionary front to back.

“You cannot go back to that.” Shiu looks pale in the face. I’m making him sick to his stomach.

“Money is money. Don’t hear you whining when you got me playing assassin for you, but God forbid I suck a coupla’ cocks for cash.” Toji pushes off the wall and stalks towards the tiny kitchenette on the far side of this cramped living space; this conversation is irritating him, he needs something to quell his cotton mouth. “Fix your morals, then we can talk.”

Shiu’s argument was mind numbingly idiotic. Comparing slaughter to sex for money, the absurdity nearly made Toji burst out laughing. Sex never killed anyone.

He’s rooting around in the fridge. It’s practically bare, housing nothing more than a few take out boxes and some lager, but that’s alright. Toji tears a can of beer from the plastic six-pack ring, and when he pops out from the refrigerator, Shiu stands there with his hip against the small counter. “You’re self-destructing.”

The can cracks open. Beer carbonation pops and hisses. “Am I?” Toji sniggers, tossing back a swig. Shiu’s eyes flit to the beverage, nose wrinkling. Toji catches on and nods to the kitchen sink. It’s full of dirty dishes. “Faucet’s fucked. Water’s full of lead. This is the only drink in the house and I’m thirsty, so hop off.”

“You’re self-destructing,” Shiu repeats once more, not matching Toji’s humorous lilt. “I’m serious, Fushiguro. You’re off.”

“What do you want me to say to that besides fuck you?”

It grows quiet again. The air is warm and thick and rife with apprehension; it presses on Toji’s chest like a sleeping cat. “So what?” Finally, Shiu speaks. “That’s it?”

He shakes his head contentedly. “That’s it.”

“You understand this is going to be Hell for me from now on. You’re the best hired gun on my roster, the boss is gonna have my ass if you quit.”

Toji takes a long sip of beer. “You’re tough. You can handle it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Shiu breathes, but there’s no real malice behind his words. “If you’re really serious about quitting, then fine. Fucking fine, I’ll—” He groans, massaging his temple, “I’ll handle it. But I’m telling you, this is the best it gets for guys like us.”

The best it gets is killing men. Leaving wives widowed, leaving kids fatherless. “Can’t be.” Toji feels nauseous at the thought. “There’s gotta be more.” There has to be. It’s the only affirmation that stops him from knocking back the whole bottle of vicodin in his bathroom medicine cabinet and calling it a night.

“This is how the world works. This is us being punished for being shitty people.”

Toji doesn’t have anything to say to that. He refuses to acknowledge it.

Shiu rubs at his nape, pushing off the counter. “Look, I only dropped by to get on your ass for playing hooky, wasn’t exactly expecting… all of this. But, uh,” despite their expansive acquaintanceship with one another, they never really got a hang of the whole sentimental bit. Shiu tries for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as the words die on his tongue, before finally settling on a long exhale through the nostrils. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, squaring his shoulders. “Just stay safe, would ya?”

Toji salutes lazily. “Aye aye.”

Shiu ducks his head in a wide nod. “Good, good. And uh, you got my number. So use it if you need to.”

Toji can tell that Shiu is trying to dole out formalities in the most unconventional way possible, so he helps him out by chuckling. “Get the fuck outta my house already.” Then, he drains the last few ounces from his can before crushing the aluminum in his fist, tossing the litter carelessly to the floor. He’ll get it later. Or not. Probably not.

“Yeah, okay.”

The hotel room is pitch black, not even the moonlight reaches through the window. Toji stumbles through the door first, dragging another person in by the waist. He kicks it shut with the heel of his boot. A woman—mid 20’s, pretty, about two heads shorter than Toji so he’s forced to crane his neck uncomfortably low when they kiss. Some random he found off an anonymous hookup app he downloaded, a consenting body three miles away for him to use. They coordinated a time and place—midnight at this shitty motel—which brings us to the present.

“Wait—” She struggles to speak in between wet kisses, patting Toji's bicep. “Wh—get the lights.”

He shakes his head. “Leave them off.”

Humidity stickied the air, clinging to his skin alongside sweat. He was coming down from something—some upper he popped hours prior to this—and because of that, a thin tremble rattled in his bones gliding through marrow. It’s so hot. He’s hot everywhere. It almost hurts, the heat.

She doesn’t put up much of an argument and takes his bruteness like a champ. Let’s him hoist her up and jerk her onto the stiff motel mattress, its blankets coughing a plume of dust into the atmosphere when their weights fell upon it. The scratchy comforter reeked of mildew and clawed back at the jagged callouses sitting in the divots of Toji’s weathered fingers when he grabbed handfuls of bedding.

He finds himself drafting comparisons in the moment, as he often did. Comparing his present to a better time; when he wasn’t slutting himself out to strangers for a fix of warmth or money, in this case the former. Your bed—God, no not tonight, he shouldn’t be devoting another night to you—smelled of a sweet concoction; your perfume, your laundry detergent, your shampoo, just you. There was no catching or pulling at his marred hands when he clawed at your bedsheets, no, the satin was gentle on his most rough parts.

“How do you want me?”

Toji blinked in succession, snapping back to cold reality. It was easy to lose himself in his delusions, muddying the lines between his dreamscape and actuality. Maybe the liquor finally seeped into his brain and this was neurosis’s way of knocking at the door. What a hilarious thing to think about. Toji slips a hand beneath her back and maneuvers the smaller body himself.

“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t want to look at her face.

Neither of them had even bothered to undress—this truly lacked all semblance of intimacy. Hands reach behind herself to inch suffocating denim down past the shelf of her ass, Toji thumbs down his own waistband just past the half-mast erection he sported. Everything felt robotic, it was a wonder he could even get hard in such a lifeless domain.

“You brought a con—”

“Yes,” he responds pointedly, eager for the talking to cease. He didn’t care to hear the whispers of a strange woman asking about whether or not he had protection on him. Of course, he had one. It goes quiet again. In the dark, dank air Toji kneels behind a wet, willing hole and yet all he can think of is you when he stroked himself to total hardness.

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, disbelief evident in the obtuse look you gave him. He was splayed out on your kitchen tiles, ducked back beneath the sink, working at the drain pipe with a rubber-gripped wrench. His ass ached from sitting on hard floors for too long, back groaned under the pressure of being bent backwards, neck stiff and knotted thanks to the awkward tilt he was forced to wear, but seeing the awe scribbled on your face made the pain dull. “I had two handymen take a look, neither of them could find the issue. But you just knew exactly what to do.”

He had to laugh at the ridiculousness. “You’ve just got yourself a fucked supply line. Ain’t rocket science, I’ll get you right.” Toji slips out from the cupboard, looking up from the floor through pin straight bangs. Scratching a brow with his thumb nail, “you hired a couple of idiots.”

You retort in a groan, unable to thrum up a defense. “I’m the real idiot, I suppose. You think they were just trying to scam me or what?”

“Probably.” Back under the sink he goes, wedging the wrench around the circumference of the pipe. Toji’s forearm tenses with each crank of the tool, and he doesn’t stop until the bolt is fastened as tight as his strength can manage. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

Though he can’t see your face at the moment, Toji hears your sheepish smile wrapping around each word. “My hero.” The sarcasm was eminent, tongue-in-cheek and you nudged his foot with your own. He kicks you back, heel to your bony ankle. “Hey!” You’re laughing now.

“Don’t get smart.” The drain pipe is secure, and he’s satisfied with his labor. Toji pulls himself to his feet, flicking the stainless steel lever on the sink’s tap with a knuckle. Crystal clear water flows out evenly from the faucet, collecting in a puddle at the basin, swirling down the drain. “Watch, look,” Toji points with his toe to the pipe under the cabinet, and he can’t quell the lofty smirk that tugs at scarred lips when there is no leakage. A successful repair; you look astonished for lack of a better word, and it gives the man a strange swell of pride hanging in his belly.

He did that. He was useful to you in a way he hadn’t been useful to anyone in a long while. He didn’t have to kill, didn’t have to fuck; fixing a leaky kitchen sink seemed beyond good enough for you. Foolish.

“I’m impressed.” You turn to him. “Thank you, Toji.”

You blathered on some more, speaking such things of how generous you planned on being in return. Something about money in exchange for the service, but Toji wasn’t really listening past your declaration of gratitude. It was just straightforward plumbing work of the most basic level, and yet you thanked him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Sure. It was no problem.” And he smiled back.

That did it. He’s stiff, cock cradled in his fist with nothing less than a bruising grip. The condom was pre-lubricated and slick with odorless oil. Toji went through the practiced motions—hooking the ringed entrance over himself, pinching the tip of the condom, rolling it down to sheath every inch.

“Oh,” she gasped, lurching forward at the feeling of Toji’s head sliding up and down between her legs. Between her folds. She’s wet for him. Hips whined back into his groin with avidity. “Put it in.”

He slaps her with an open palm, connecting with an asscheek. She moans again and reaches back to paw at Toji’s navel with blunt nails. Free from any of that fancy acrylic stuff.

This time around was torturously similar to every other fuck he’s had in recent date. Everything is fast-paced and unforgiving, leaving not much room for anything else. Toji fucks to forget. He fucks to remember, too.

“Y/n,” he groans shamelessly. There’s a muffled reply, but it’s murky and muffled and unable to be understood because Toji had taken the humble liberty of holding his conquest’s face into the flat, fluffless pillow. He doesn’t care for a response, to be corrected or called a piece of shit for being so inconsiderate as to not remember her name. It was Mandy, he wants to say. Maybe Maddy? Who gives a fuck.

“That’s rude, you know.”

Toji pouts theatrically, forcing his bottom lip out in a way that has you playfully rolling your eyes. In his hand, a bundled ball of blanket that he’d stolen from you and hoarded to his side of the sofa. “Aww, I’m sorry.”

You sigh, throwing him a scathing glance. “No, you’re not.”

Movie night, or so you said. Sitting in the lonesome of your quiet penthouse just the two of you, watching some new finance documentary that just dropped on Netflix. It sounded absurdly boring to Toji, but you’d been keen on hyping it up all week long, offering him an invitation to view it together. Really, Toji couldn’t give a shit about a bunch of old guys talking crypto-bullshit for two hours straight—but it’s not like that’s what was really going to happen anyway. Toji had convinced himself this was all a ploy to snake your way into his pants at last. Naturally, he accepted your invitation.

“Just gonna have to sit closer then,” Toji posed gruffly, eyeing down the gap between your bodies on the couch. Sitting at opposite ends like a couple of children who still believed cooties was a prevalent issue. He nods toward you,“come on.”

“You’re terrible.” Despite that, you scoot closer, invading his bubble of personal space and snatching your half of the blanket back. Focused on the Netflix explore page, tongue poked out between two rows of teeth as you enter the title of the documentary into the search bar, you miss the way Toji observes you. Watching. Waiting.

And waiting.

For what? Who knows. Maybe Toji prepares himself for the inevitable moment when you slip a hand beneath the blanket and drift over to his thigh. Ready for that familiar squeeze at his crotch, the same tango so many other curious hands have danced in the past. But he’d let you proceed without any qualms. He’d encourage you.

“You’re bored, huh?” You chuckled halfheartedly midway through the film, pressing pause. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his pure disinterest.

Toji shrugs. “Maybe.” His arm rests on the back ledge of the couch, not quite around you, but so close that it might as well be. He shifts, touches his right thigh to your left one, and tilts his chin down. “Listening to a bunch of rich fucks whine about the stock market doesn’t exactly captivate me.”

Frowning, “that’s only surface level. The audience is supposed to infer—” Fake snoring cuts you off. Toji rolls his eyes shut, hanging his jaw to fake the most obnoxious slumber. His head lolls onto your shoulder. You don’t shy away from the physical contact. “You’re not funny.” He begs to differ, what with the way nasally snorts crack from your sinuses. The shoulder he presses his cheek to stutters with stifled dissipation.

“Stop movin’.” Toji nuzzles closer, facetiously dumping body weight against you if not for anything other than to hear the struggle squeeze at your throat when you wrestle to keep upright. “I’m comfy like this.”

“You’re never this affectionate.”

He’s not usually. But Toji’s hellbent on his premonitions. You want him. Everyone wants him. It’s been months of banter, months of getting spoiled by financial stability. You give him everything. You take nothing. His nose caresses the junction where shoulder and neck meet. Why won’t you just let him fucking give you something? You swallow hard. “Toji.”

“I constantly feel like I owe you. Like I got dues to pay.”

“Do I… make you feel that way?”

“All the fucking time.” It swelters beneath the blanket you share, and sweat starts to collect at the creases behind Toji’s knees. Bathing in the shared body heat, letting the convection hug his hips. He sighs, backtracking. “I know you got good intentions, ‘s what you keep telling me. And I like it, the way you reassure me. It’s… reassuring.” He titters into your neck, blinking slowly.

“Then why do you keep doing this?” A ginger hand graces the rear of his skull, not forcing him closer, but not tugging him away either. It just sits there, scritching as calm as your voice.

“Don’t know.”

This wasn’t the first time Toji succumbed to that shrill, little whisper in his head, the one that told him to spontaneously initiate closeness. It feels like common knowledge by now; to reciprocate in kind to any form of benevolence like a trained dog, because that was the expectation of him. To get on his knees and worship until bruises hammered into his joints and the hinges of his jaw grew sore from overuse. This transaction is familiar. It brings him a twisted sense of comfort, and you ripped it away. For better or for worse, Toji had yet to conclude.

“It’s like muscle memory.” That was the best way to describe it. Toji ached to give you the pleasure that felt long overdue in this affair. To offer some sort of repayment in the only way he knew how. Lips ghost over porcelain flesh—he’s never been so tempted in his life. Sex had always been the most exhausting and emotionally depleting aspect when he dealt with these kinds of unconventional financial relationships, but now as he unfurls his candied tongue and laves a stretch from collar to jawline, Toji has never wanted to be inside of someone more. Deft fingers were quick to pull him back by the scruff.

You studied Toji with unreadable eyes. He stares back, wiping excess saliva from his fatty lower lip with a thumb.

“I don’t want this for us,” you speak up finally, meandering eyes roaming around his facial features. You look at his lips, then his nose, then between his eyes. “Are you listening? I’ll write it on my fucking forehead if that’s what it takes for you to understand.”

“What if I want it?” Toji breathes.

You’re shaking your head. “You don’t.”

Who the fuck are you to decide what he does or doesn’t want? And how fucking dare you be right about it. Because in all this build up—the panting, the heat, the licking—Toji hadn’t so much as twitched down there. It’s like his mind and body were completely detached, separate entities trying to cohesively navigate through an avalanche of generational trauma. Trying and failing miserably. He palms himself to confirm his limp appendage.

“Fuck.” A bucket of ice water dumped over his head, washing away the illusion of lust and leaving behind reality in its wake. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Toji doesn’t really understand what you’re apologizing for. You’ve got no need to feel sorry when he was the one who threw himself at you so abruptly. But he doesn’t ask, either. It felt eerily nice to be on the receiving end of an ‘I’m sorry.’

You still hold his nape. The film is long forgotten at this point, set on the backburner, and dimmed with the Are you still watching? notification blanketing the screen.

“Your movie.” Toji cocks his head, beckoning towards the gigantic television pinned to the wall all without tearing his eyes from yours. “Press play.”

This has the beginnings of a coy smirk straining your lips. “I thought it was boring you?”

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”

And so you resumed the documentary, if not for anything other than to dissolve the serious tension that palpated in the air. You didn’t force Toji to explain himself, you didn’t hound him for answers about his hypersexuality. You didn’t distance yourself, you didn’t act appalled when his thigh brushed yours again. You didn’t pity him, you didn’t treat him like a child. But you did stroke his neck. You continued to laugh with him. You let him fall asleep on you that night and didn’t wake him ‘till morning.

You let him trust.

His orgasm doesn’t have any anticipation. It crashes down on him all at once, splitting down the notches of his spine and sending bouts of electricity zapping down to his curled toes, still encased in thick, mud soaked boots. She cries below, contorting in the direction of the pleasure, but Toji holds her down while he fills the rubber.

It’s unsatisfying.

“Oh my fuck—” The woman pants on her come down, trembling around him. She clearly enjoyed herself, giggling stupidly into the pillow now sopping with drool and tears. Toji pulls out with little grace, sneering at the viscous mess of bodily fluids slicking up his navel. Proficient fingers work the sticky condom off, tying the end in a balloon knot.

It’s gross.

He folds, dropping onto the bed beside her. Sweat glues bangs to his forehead. His chest rises, then falls, then rises again with exertion. Sleep threatens to rear itself, weighing down his eyelids.

It’s tiring.

The body beside him stirs, rolling on her side. “How was it?”

“Good,” he lies through his teeth for the sake of sparing feelings. She smiles, feeling over his chest.

“It was good for me, too,” she tells him like he asked. “Really good. Oh, also my name’s Maria by the way, not Y/n.” Maria chuckles like it was just a silly mix up.

She drags him into mindless, post-sex banter. Rambling on about workplace drama, about her two pet cats and about her shity landlord. Mindless rattling that falls on Toji’s deaf ears; he’s disassociated, lying face-up on the terribly hard bed, fixated on the grime weighing down his lap. When an opening arises, Toji hauls himself up and claims the shower.

An intense wave of queasiness materializes in the centerpoint of Toji’s stomach when he closes himself in behind the bathroom door. The aftermath always felt this awful—bitter and lonely and degrading. Toji takes a moment to just be, perching on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, swallowing down sickness lest he subject Maria to a concert of his disgusting gags if he retches into the bowl.

When Toji stands to fiddle with the shower handle, he becomes hyper aware of the weight in his sweatpants. There’s an awkward sag in the fabric, bunching around the object that sits heavy in his front pocket. His cellphone—he never bothered to remove it. Giving a sniffle to the air, Toji fishes out the device and taps the screen with little interest.

Oh.

He looks away. Looks at the sink, then the wall, then the glass door of the shower cubicle. Then back at his screen. Back at the very real notification that sits there idly, begging to be clicked.

Toji’s heart races at a perilous speed, something lethal for an old man like himself. He can feel the beat rumble his insides, blending everything up like a bloody smoothie.

Yielding, he clicks.

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

Note

JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.

Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!

Gojo Satoru

„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”

You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…

“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.

“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”

A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?

“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.

Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-

“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.

You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…

“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”

“I swear if you slap your d-“

“Look at me!”

His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.

And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.

“Now watch.”

With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.

“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.

“Go ahead babe.”

“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”

He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.

“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.

“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.

“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”

Nanami Kento

“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”

You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.

…Just like your legs.

“You’re daydreaming again.”

You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.

“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.

You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…

“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”

He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…

“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.

His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-

“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”

Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.

And your merciless gaze.

“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”

You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.

Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.

Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.

“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.

“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.

Toji Fushiguro

“You want me to do what?”

You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?

“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.

“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”

“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.

“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”

Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.

“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.

“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.

“Promise we’ll fu-“

“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.

His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.

“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.

It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.

But still…

You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.

“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.

Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.

“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.

“Let’s do that again.”

“I know something better.”

All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.

“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.

Bonus: Sukuna

“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.

“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”

“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”

“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.

Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.

“Really deep down”, he grumbles.

“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.

“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“

“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”

Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.

“Did you film this, brat?”

You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.

“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.

“Delete that right now!”

“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

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soobnny · 8 months

Text

coming home — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan surprising you by coming home. could be a part two to ‘one more month’

The plan had been to surprise you.

It’s been months since Chan’s been home, and all the days leading up to him coming back have been spent thinking about how much he’d like to hold you and kiss you without the restrictions of his work. He hates having to leave you. Hell, it’s always been the hardest part of what he does—saying goodbye to you.

He’d been thinking of all the ways he could be a better boyfriend to you, starting with a dinner reservation at your favorite restaurant, to make up for lost time. Video calls and text messages can only go so far, but they will never be able to replace you when you’re not around. Though, what had not been part of the plan, was for his flight to be pushed back due to a sudden schedule.

Chan supposes he should be grateful, but he finds it hard when all he wants is to make it home to you. The dinner reservation is canceled, and Chan’s flight arrives in Korea at around 2am.

It takes an hour travel before he’s at your doorstep, but the boy doesn’t want to wake you. He doesn’t think he has the heart to, not when you’d admitted to him a few weeks ago how hard sleep had been coming to you. Doesn’t want to disturb you of rest that he knows you desperately need amidst the credits you’re taking for college.

He sighs, taking out his duplicate keys and inserting them in the keyhole, twisting the knob and quietly walking into your apartment. He’s extra careful with his actions, slightly cringing when the door makes a small banging sound at being closed. He hopes it didn’t startle you awake.

Chan undoes the laces of the shoes you’d gifted him on his birthday last year, setting them aside just beside your own pair. He finds himself staring for a second, unknowing smile already forming on his face at the realization that you’re actually here. And in any second, you’ll be back in his arms.

“Chan?”

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight he’s subjected to. He supposes the slight banging of your door had woken you up, because now you’re standing in front of him, eyes still adjusting with a small yawn threatening to escape. He doesn’t think you’re fully awake yet, and Chan would’ve lunged to embrace you had you not looked so gentle and confused.

“Hi baby.” He can’t hide his smile anymore, not that he was trying to in the first place. He’s smiling in that lovesick way, eyes crinkling like crescents and cheeks growing more and more prominent when he notices the realization slowly dripping color on your face.

“Oh my god. You’re home.” Your eyes are a little wider now, staring at his eyes, his nose, his lips. You’re trying to decipher whether you’re still dreaming, but it’s impossible to draw that conclusion when he’s inching closer and closer to where you are, slipping his black backpack on the floor in favor of wrapping his arms around you. “Channie, I’ve missed you so much.”

Chan can’t seem to respond, not when he’s finally fully engulfed in you—the scent of your shampoo, your warmth from having been under the covers not long ago, your skin. Your apartment, and everything about you. So potently you. He hugs you for as long as possible, so much so that you notice a glimpse of his dyed hair tucked under the beanie he always wears.

“Have to shower. Go get warm under the covers again, hm?”

“But—”

“I’ll be back before you know.” Chan presses a sweet kiss on your lips, and he almost crumbles. He’ll kiss you better when you’re wrapped up in his arms a few minutes from now. And true to his word, he does come back in the blink of an eye, and you watch in fondness as he positions himself beside you under the covers, arms scooping you to lay down on him.

“Love you.” He whispers, eyes drifting to your face. He always does this when he’s with you, always so captivated by you and everything about you. You’re just so familiar, and it feels good to be coming back home to you. “Missed you a lot.”

“Will you stay?” You ask. Almost hopeful.

“Mhm.” He hums. “I’m staying, baby.”

It’s so easy to sleep with Chan next to you. You feel sorry for the way you drift back to sleep, but he doesn’t mind at all. His attention is still on you, and his heart twitches at how beautiful you are, and how there is never any pressure to be anything when he’s with you.

And he stays. He stays with his palms pressed on your back, and his lips placing gentle kisses on your face for a few minutes before he falls asleep. And he continues to stay when you wake up with his mouth finding yours. Chan stays, and he doesn’t plan to leave anytime soon.

#bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #kpop fluff #stray kids fluff #kpop imagines #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #chan drabbles #chan x reader #skz chan

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bunji-enthusiast · 8 months

Text

Closer And Closer

Note || as requested by many, here is the sequel! This was a ton of fun to write 🤲

WC || 2,535

<(Previous Part)> <(You are here)>

Sypnosis || With your new friend in hand, you begin earning some unexpected honesty—and new understandings.

Once, there was a dream. Sometimes it would recur, coming back to you in the encroaching depths of your mind no matter how much you wanted to stop dreaming this very same dream. It was always on and off, how it can always come back–like a nightmare–just how can one describe it?

People can forget their own dreams long after they wake up, lest they be lucky to want to write down the dream. So you were one and the same, the trepidation always sneaking upon you, like an approaching danger that will never fail to make your nerves stand on end.

“Mommy,” You tugged at the hem of the woman’s dress, a baby trapped within a limited consciousness; yearning for love, curiosity and just always wanting to be around your parents. It’s natural and in nature for a young child to always want their parents. “Why are you gonna be gone for so long?”

Oh, that sweet, sweet voice. How adorable could you be? The woman just looked down upon your small form with a smile, so very reminiscent of motherly love. Only a mother could bring a kind of peace like that to their child, the woman thought. She crouched down to your level, patting the crown of your head with a gentle hand, so very gentle as you remember her even gentler heartbeat. A voice came from her mouth, words carried with a saccharine tone. “My little sweet apple pie, it is only a work trip!” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around you and held you close. Causing you to giggle as well, laughter so joyous even the woman holding you now couldn’t help but feel such joy because of you alone. “I’ll be back before you can say Poppies!”

You look up at her, strangely the woman’s face was misty, enshrouded by black shadows. As if reality didn’t want you to see her, your own mother. Still, a smile remained upon your face as you nodded at the woman. “Hehe! Okay, mom.”

Slowly you blinked, the world suddenly began disappearing from sight, the environment twisting upon your peripherals.

“What?”

You groan audibly, cursing to yourself under your breath. “Of-fucking-course.”

Slowly, You remember where you are now. A hand comes into your view and holds you steady, a very familiar one.

“Don’t get up too quickly, you will get weary Angel.” His voice warns, it still seemed so strained and worn worse for wear. Just what kind of things had Catnap done to DogDay? Perhaps you shouldn’t worry about it, something like that is a very personal thing to ask about, no doubt.

You coughed, pounding on your chest as you slowly rose awake. Your companion had been waiting calmly for you to collect yourself, but that had made him a little worried as he winced when you coughed. Slowly enough, you ease yourself into standing with DogDay’s help, all that jumping and landing seriously hurt your body a great deal. No wonder you were exhausted as hell right now.

Right, no time to worry about that now. It was time to be more worried about what to do next, “DogDay, you think you can handle being carried around by me in that state?” You asked with an airy tone, you didn’t want to be too loud and accidentally attract any nearby toys who are under Catnap’s influence. DogDay slumped for a moment, most likely still very worn out from probably the way he had been hanged. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling everything coursing through him, he was very much here and alive.

He always had been continually reminded of this very thing.

Reminded of Catnap.

“No need to worry about me, Angel.” Your companion spoke, his fur ruffling about in his movements. You probably were gonna have to do something about that later, DogDay sorely needed some cleaning up. “I am tougher than you think.”

It seemed his words carried a half-hearted weight, carrying no affirmed meaning to them. You looked at DogDay incredulously, clear as night and day that you knew this well; worn out, tired and cramping for a plan to end the Prototype. You’ve never gotten a good look at the Prototype, only a few times you have gotten a good look at the Prototype’s hand–there must be a whole body from beyond the shadow’s.

Awaiting, no doubt terrifying too. But, you dealt with adrenaline rushes and terrifying monsters from the moment you stepped foot into the abandoned Playtime Co.

“Ah, well, just tell me if anything is bothering you.” You nodded at him, patting down your clothing, the dust falling in your wake. DogDay was quiet for a moment, taking a hand-step back as he looked around at the environment once more. He was considering something, considering how to go about the next phase of the way.

“No safe places here, nothing good.” For a moment, you swore that you had seen his mouth contorting into a frown–though in every Smiling Critter, they always are smiling–So this was completely new, different somehow. “My apologies Angel, safe places are rare to find.” DogDay sighed, he in a sense was habitually instinctive to keep his loved ones safe; going so far as to make sure they have a good sleep. Even if it meant at the cost of his own health.

He cared deeply for his friends, but they were gone now. Catnap was someone he could not recognize anymore, that wasn’t his friend.

DogDay’s only focus was making sure you are alive and safe.

Something of which is admittedly difficult to do, knowing all the horrors that had occurred in Playtime Co. but it wasn’t too troubling for someone like you. DogDay was glad for you about that, impressed even that you had managed to survive thus far before you had met him.

You patted his head, causing him to look back at you. “Nothing to apologize for! Everyone’s just… a little too crazy nowadays.” You mutter, walking over to a dusty pile and finding a tape. There seemed to be thousands of these tapes all around the Factory, some of which you could’ve sworn recording yourself.

Being a former employee for Playtime Co. is one thing to say, but being an engineer was a different process. You were only involved in the works of designing and constructing, not once had you ever really got hand in hand with actually building things. But you were highly proud of the work you had done and completed alongside your fellow co-workers, looking back on it now… all it had done simply saddened you.

How it seemed to be the way that the toys seemed to be so lifeless, once so full of joy, love and empathy for everyone in this place all together.

You wouldn’t mind turning back the clock and doing good for once more, the right way this time. When everything was said and done, the toys you came across were well justified in their anger for being abandoned–but you weren’t looking to be on the top list of being killed either. Considering how you had gotten lucky apparently by quitting the day before your co-workers had all disappeared.

Getting through this place was no trouble, you remember some good places of this Factory like the back of your hand. Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy of whom is his spouse, was rather different to the likes of the tall-blue furred beast. Rather inconceivable in behaviors, Kissy Missy was a perturbed ally, one you didn’t expect. All the toys you met so far, (save for Poppy, and Kissy Missy) had full intentions to kill you from going any further.

This Factory is a whole goddamn amalgamation of mysteries you weren’t sure you wanted to solve anymore. Let alone having any trust in every being you come across now too, how disturbing must this get? You sure as hell weren’t Elliot Ludwig.

“I simply wish I could be of more help.” DogDay recounted with a mournful tune, breaking you out of your thoughts and consolation. You frown at him, wanting to offer comfort: the words could not come through. He shuffled around to begin looking for things too, but now something had crossed your mind.

You still couldn’t piece together almost everything between DogDay and Catnap, some things he had said back at the heretic altar had stuck with you. Until now it was dismissable, out of sight and out of mind you supposed. Though you recounted some thoughts that had warmed you in ways you didn’t expect, at first meet he already was of great character–someone you truly wanted to be around.

The repugnant smell that had always seemed to be invading your senses was gone now, this particular area was an untouched one. “DogDay… do you mind if I ask you something?” You spoke, stepping over the rubbish and noting the sound footsteps that echo in your wake. Don’t walk too much, this area may be empty but it didn’t mean that Catnap wasn’t watching. That cat was terrifying to you. Permeating nightmares had run endlessly through your mind, and his gas before when calling back on previous close counters with the obsessed follower of the prototype were far too close.

Continually he had gone about looking for anything that may be of assistance to you both, still he had spoken in reply, “Angel, I will answer anything. You deserve as such.” DogDay recounted, noting what he had said to you before you fell to the slumbers of sweet, sweet sleep.

Cool, cool cool… that was dandy and nice of him. You just weren’t sure how to articulate the very question that lays burning in your mouth, for fear of the fact you might be gazed upon with ranicid and covert questioning, like an ornery old bitch. Pointedly you stepped around the rubble, in turn you came across an old set-up, as if there used to be children here. A blanket laying upon the ground and the ravaged pillows, still in condition that you could say that was okay to be recycled for use. Still quite in a-okay position to sit down on, waiting for DogDay to finish scrambling around.

“So,” You began, lacing your fingers together and intertwining them purely out of your nerves spiking in your body as of right now. “What’s… the deal between you and Catnap?” Abruptly, at those words, his very being felt as if he tensed up. You couldn’t read him right now, suddenly incomprehensible to understand.

“I suppose you should know about it, in order to really understand Catnap.” He motioned, steadily crawling over to where you sat. “Catnap was someone you could get along great with, quiet and not much of a talker, but actions speak louder than words Angel.”

Then, there was a lapse in his words; DogDay was doing his best to keep himself steady and calm. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to fall apart in front of you, that is not very leader-like of someone such as DogDay.

“Oh, his actions spoke so much more for him than one little word.” He nodded, laying his head upon his crossed arms. DogDay had made himself comfortable as he shifted to a proper position. “But, things happened. Very bad things.” You were albeit surprised he was willingly sharing such information with you, as personal as it would appear.

Still, you had remained muted, this was something that could conceivably help you in dealing with the nightmare cat later on. “Something had happened to him, something I wasn’t aware of. Angel, he.. wasn’t the same Catnap. He wasn’t my friend anymore.” Now, you could understand this well.

You yourself never had a good trade off within all your relationships, no matter what kind of relationship it was… be it; platonic, romantic, friends even! Humans are odd and sometimes indescribable in nature, but it simply has always been this way. But friends change, sometimes partially and even supernaturally.

In DogDay’s case, it was gruesome and religious. Catnap by no means was someone to act fool with, something you could pick out with merely just from first impressions. In passing, this was no offense whatsoever–personally that cat looked scary as hell.

“All my friends just,” Then, DogDay allowed himself to breathe again once more. “I wouldn’t wish it even on my own worst enemy.”

“The Prototype?” You snorted, shifting your weight from one end to the other as you gave him a benign quizzical look.

“Angel.”

“I'm messing with you!”

You waved him off, then put your hands in your lap. It was oddly endearing in how you behaved, the normalcy around here is rare, DogDay would admit. “So it seems, Prototype is his god. I don’t understand every detail, but The Prototype saved him.” He beckoned, recounting the mention of the Prototype from not even two minutes ago.

“So Catnap began viewing this, Prototype as such?” You finished for him, tilting your head. Your companion nodded, lifting his head to recover proper eye contact with you.

“Poppy, the rest who are on your side want nothing more to end the terror of the Prototype’s reign. Come to save me Angel, I thank you so much for that.” Honesty was a fickle thing for DogDay since recalling recent events, but had it come to you? The fearless dog didn’t mind.

“Oh it’s nothing to be thanked for,” You grin at him, ever so slightly. But he’ll take that, “You were in so much pain. That’s a position no innocent person, or toy deserves to be in.”

DogDay had to consider this for a moment, so much consideration had been done lately. Yet, it was all done to simply understand the chaos underlying this factory, no doubt it had caused a lot of trauma (to many in this place) alone. “You're right about that, Angel, I suppose I had gotten too comfortable in all my reckless decadence.” Willfully, he was well aware of his actions as a leader. Some of which he had questioned why he had made them.

Your hand on his ragged-torn furred head had snapped DogDay out of his conscious thoughts, “We all deserve peace, that means you too DogDay.”

You were right.

It seems there are still many things to be learned.

“You are far too kind to me.” He sighed, leaning into your hand. You never moved your hand away from him.

“Though we should probably get you cleaned up.” That sentence alone suddenly broke the comfortable atmosphere, still much rather comedic however.

“Right,” DogDay barked, as if he really was laughing. His whole body shook, it was rather a wave of happiness. Something he had not often felt, it had almost shocked him a little. “I believe they would have some bandages and towels nearby, water too.” Your companion then noted it would most likely be at a medical station somewhere.

You raised a brow at this, causing DogDay to nod with an air of laughter about him as he spoke once more whilst you had hoisted him over your shoulders. “I worked with children quite more often than not, you would be surprised at the amount of things that happen during playtime Angel.”

[Taglist: @zacklover24 ]

#poppy playtime x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #x reader #I’m I using Angel too much? seems in-character for him to keep calling you that.#aughhh I love this fluffy boy

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ma1dita · 6 months

Text

to catch a thief

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (post-TLT, sea of monsters compliant/spoilers) The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. Your reunion with Luke is nothing you both could have ever expected. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: we’re so back trouble!verse ;) sorry for the post birthday hiatus on this, hope you like it! crack banter but err... she got a lil angsty

(posted 3/22/24, semi-edited)

—

When you wake up to the gentle rolling of the sea, it feels like a comforting embrace in a distant dream. Tangled within pristine white sheets, you could smell the salt through the small opening in the bay window–though this was a far cry from a fairytale conjured by your mind.

This was your reality.

You wouldn’t call it a nightmare per se, but the circumstances were definitely less than preferred.

This is not the CSS Birmingham. No, that went up in flames. Retracing your steps to what led you to this—cushy cruise line of a prison, you reckon it’s been a few days now since you’ve become a stowaway, or a hostage. You haven’t quite decided yet.

Gods, this is what you get for passing up on that summer research internship.

Dropping off Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson at camp was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane—until meeting with your dad, finding out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned, watching Chiron get fired, and essentially getting kicked out by the troll of a man who originally got sent to the Fields of Punishment for marketing the taste of human flesh made you remember that nothing at camp is the way it used to be.

Not like before, when you and Luke used to run it.

Your dad told you to go home and wait till you were needed. Home. Driving away from it this time around was harder than you thought it would be. You’d never been the patient type, and to drop everything just because a god told you to?

Hilarious, really.

But almost a week later, after rejoining your friends on an undead ship that you let the kids commandeer, your vital mistake was thinking that Clarisse’s quest would be a breeze. Rookie move, since the last one you were on left you almost as scarred as Luke was. Even thinking of him now, you run your thumb over the rough patch of skin on your palm.

At the very least you hoped Tyson was okay. The last memory you have of the young Cyclops was watching him from your place on the ladder as he stopped the engines from overheating. Maybe it was the ex-head counselor in you, or your increased threshold to pain, but there was no way in hell you were leaving that kid behind.

The sound of voices from outside your door gets louder now, your throat feeling like you’ve been swallowing wads of cotton and a persistent ringing in your ear that hurts just as bad as when you watch Chris Rodriguez walk in with a plate of food. The last one he slid through the door bumps against his boot, still uneaten and he sighs.

“So what, you’re on a hunger strike now? I forgot how difficult you could be.”

You bark out a laugh. Thankfully it’s loud enough that it almost conceals the rumble of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you mumble, “Wish it could be an idiot strike. I forgot how much of a bitch you are when it comes to your brother, Rodriguez. How long are you going to keep me here? It’s been days.”

Your former friend rolls his eyes at your dramatics like he doesn’t hold the key to your freedom.

“Three since you woke up, actually. Come on, you’ve gotta eat, or I’ll get my ass kicked,” he grumbles. You raise an eyebrow at that, walking towards the window to dodge the uncomfortable tension that fills the room. He plucks an apple slice off your plate.

“He couldn’t splurge on a balcony view? Monsters aside, it’s not like you’ve reached full occupancy.”

“There are more mortals here than you think. To be honest, he was worried you would find a way to overthrow us,” the tanned boy admits, placing the tray on the dresser. It was always a wonder to him how you and Luke were more alike than you think, even now—even when Luke hasn’t come to see you. Talking to you reminded him that you’re both pains in his ass, and Chris was still unsure of who to be more wary of, but he’s been in charge of watching you for the most part.

“Well tell your stupid captain he has no right to be worried about me. I’d much rather try to jump if given the opportunity.”

There’s no response, so you turn to face Chris who’s eating a croissant with a bashful grin.

“Seriously dude?”

“Listen, I’m hoping if I think of the right words to say, he’ll come in and deal with you himself. Opposite sides of a war and you’re still both giving me a headache. Just like old times,” he chuckles, flakes of pastry dotting across his chest plate. Your mouth quirks into a bitter smile. Old times, when Luke would shove you if he couldn’t think of a reply fast enough. When you’d punch him to get your point across if he wasn’t listening. How a kiss could end any waging war between the both of you.

You swallow, turning slowly to watch your reflection in the glass of the windowpane.

Why hasn't he come to see you? The first day, you remember spending out on the sea—treading water with no land in sight, calling out to your friends until your voice went hoarse, but you didn’t cry. You know better than to show weakness now, even when no one’s around. Chris tells you over a gulp of orange juice that you washed up next to the Princess Andromeda on the second day like it was fate. Though fate was never truly that kind to anyone; it felt like it was laughing in your face. Knocked out cold for two days after, and ignoring all of Chris’s attempts to keep you alive in the days that followed, you’ve been in this room ever since. You barely notice Chris’s departure.

Entering the ensuite bathroom, you splash your face and sip on water from the tap before stopping at the doorway. A shadow flits at the seam near your feet, someone standing just out of sight when you peer through the peephole.

But you know Luke’s there. Sons of Hermes have almost undetectable footsteps, however, Luke walking in and out of your life for as long as he has—there’s no inconceivable way to not know him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear the sound of his feet, but there’s a way the wind shifts your hair, your heart slowing in ease at his presence, and the scent of him reminiscent of skin kissed with the peel of an orange. The skin you used to kiss and greet and know like your own.

The shadow fades just as your hand reaches out towards it, leaving like he always does. Always out of reach.

Even as the Princess Andromeda continues to set sail upon the calm waters of the Atlantic Coast, you look out to the unending horizon and still feel like you’re drowning.

—

“Status report, soldier?”

Chris rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of apple into his mouth as he strolls into the command deck. The both of you had a flair for the dramatic—it serves as his reminder of why you two worked so well. Luke is sitting in his captain’s seat, watching the waves crash against the hull as the sun begins to set on the skyline.

“She’s angry. Anyone would be if they were locked up like that.”

“Well, yeah, but tell me something I don’t know. Something useful, Rodriguez,” Luke says, flicking his pocket knife closed. It’s still sticky with the juice of the fruit, catching onto his finger. He hisses, but then the sound of loud footsteps boom down the corridor, along with the sound of maniacal laughter as the door slams open. The two sons of Hermes look at each other curiously, knowing it all too well.

“You know, the next time you send a 9-year-old to stand guard, remember to not make it the one we used to throw into the lake,” you drawl, sauntering into the bridge and looking around until your eyes land on your ex, “and also remember that you taught me how to pick locks.”

Ethan Nakamura heaves behind you, hands on his knees before he stands to attention and salutes his captain.

“Sir, I was just following orders… and I’m not 9 anymore!” he snaps, glaring at you. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation makes it easier to get through. You thought being surrounded by the undead on the CSS Birmingham was scary enough, but standing in a room with ghosts from your past was somehow worse. Honestly, you learned a lot more by being in that room than if you were to jump ship like you wanted to.

“I taught you how to tie your shoes, Ethan. You’re always gonna be a little kid to me,” you scoff, brushing him aside and walking towards Luke, “your new digs are fancy, by the way. I could tell by all the teenage soldiers chasing me through the tourists.”

He stands up and meets you head to head, as the both of you inspect each other closely.

It’s been a long year without you.

You look thinner. You’ve lost the softness in your cheeks and your eyes are tired. He wonders what you chose to major in, who your roommates are, if you still think of him with a smile on your face. You’re still beautiful.

“You know me, I like to travel in style,” Luke says offhandedly, a half smile on his face. For someone leading a war against the gods, he’s calm in your presence.

“Back when I knew you, we traveled in a tin can that we also called a car.”

His clothes are nicer than anything you’ve ever seen him in. He looks really fucking good, for someone on the run. It’s almost frustrating to see how brawny he’s gotten, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms. You suppose he has nothing to do now but practice and spar (that or he’s definitely flexing for you). Pulling at the drawstring of the joggers you wear, you realize his initials are embroidered on the pocket. Pretentious fuck. Did he change you once you got on board?

Chris and Ethan suddenly get the feeling that they’re interrupting something—a reunion in a blockbuster romantic movie they’ve seen the mortals play out on the ship deck’s projector on Friday nights. The two of you stand there arguing like a married couple despite the fact you are no longer lovers and the bickering continues even when more of Kronos’ army files in. You laugh again at the sight of children walking in—some strangers, others you’ve sung to sleep in cabin 11, all still children, even back from the time before when laughter didn’t have to have a reason, light and airy in the summer sun.

“You’re sick, you know that? Did you just plan to let me rot in that room until it was all over? You didn’t even talk to m—”

“Classic, you’re more mad that I didn’t talk to you over the fact that you’re a prisoner,” he seethes, but you don’t stand down—not now or ever.

“Prisoner? I walked out and none of your Boy Scouts could do anything about it!”

His face is turning red now, jaw tightening at the angst but deep down he misses this—the banter, the thin line between hate and love you both tread on. You may be a damsel. But you were not in distress.

To further prove your point, you swing an arm toward one of the boys in black (their uniforms were annoyingly corny), and they all take a step back toward the wall. Your eyebrows furrow, “What type of prison has guards terrified of the prisoner?”

He shrugs, “It was only time before you came and found me. I even gave you a bay window.”

That was not the right thing to say.

“I’ll fucking kill yo—”

“Sir? So do we try and detain her, or….” one of the demigods you don’t know interjects, and Chris Rodriguez sucks at his teeth before he responds.

“Alright. We’ve seen enough of the show. Everyone file out and let Castellan reunite with his girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?”

“Girlfriend…”

The both of you look at each other, one in anger, the other in sheepishness now that you’re alone. It's even funnier that neither of you deny it.

“You left me there in that room, and by the sight of things around here you prefer being in the company of monsters than being with me, so by the gods, what do you want, Castellan?”

You fall into the captain’s chair exasperatedly, watching him watch you.

“I’m giving you a choice,” he says simply. “You can stay here with me, or you can go.”

“A choice? You captured me to tell me I have a choice,” you spit, as if that was the stupidest thing he could say. “You didn’t give me a choice when you left me.”

“It was a matter of the circumstances. And I didn't capture you—are you mad that I betrayed everyone or not, because I can’t really read you right now, Trouble…”

Your eye twitches and your hands are in fists across your lap. Another wrong thing to say.

“Keeping me here until I get the nerve to talk to you is not a choice, asshole. Do you think you could just hide me away until the bad part’s over? To save me until everything's good enough for you?” Your eyes catch onto the droplets of blood that fall onto the hardwood flooring near your feet. His hand is bleeding, and like it’s nothing of the sort you reach out for it.

Luke thinks that if he lets you your hand will still perfectly fit in his, so after a moment, he pulls his hand away out of your reach. Pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket (also embroidered with his initials—note to self, never let a son of Hermes have money), you stand to wrap it around his hand to stop the bleeding. You pretend not to notice his heartbeat increase through the throbbing of the cloth.

“Don’t let my actions make you believe that what we had wasn’t good, Trouble.”

“Stop calling me that. Why are they all scared of me? Why won’t you let me touch you?” you whisper, putting pressure on his finger until the blood clots. It doesn’t even hurt, to tell you the truth. Not touching you when you’re right here in front of him is a pain he can’t find the words to describe. But what he’ll never understand is that he’s right. You two were good together. You’d have him through the bad too, if only he let you.

“Because you might think you can fix me.” Or worse, you might change his mind. You don't have to say you love him for him to know it. A part of him wishes he didn’t have to do all of this to prove to you he feels the same.

“Would you have left with me?” he mutters. A wistful look cuts through your anger and he knows he’s finally said something right. His pocket knife is on the control board and your hands drop to your side again when you realize that he may have forgotten to tell his battalion of who you are to him, but he still remembers how you like your apples cut. The silence is loud, even with the twinge that comes with the pain in your eardrum as you sway a little on your feet. Your body still knows it can relax with him, knees buckling with a false sense of security despite your willpower.

“I would've made it so that there was no other option for you but to want to stay.”

A soldier bursts through the door and apologizes for the intrusion, but the both of you have found out all you need to know. The moment is over and Percy Jackson has been captured by the army in his efforts of trying to save the day. There’s a look shared between the two of you that wonders if this will become a trend.

—

Licking your lips as your… Luke guides you out onto the main deck with your hands behind your back, you can taste the salt in your air. It’s almost as evident as the surprise in your friends’ faces when they see you alive. This time, they don’t question your allegiance but in the chaos that ensues, for a moment, you do.

For a moment, you wonder what would change if you decided to stay with him. Would the sky fall under your feet? Would the gods kneel like Luke said they would? Looking at him in your periphery, you realize it’s not what the both of you want, even if it’s the easier way out—to be together despite it all.

The two of you against the world instead of the world against the both of you.

But he won't even touch you—he’s holding you over the sleeves of your shirt, too scared of what you’ve become in his absence. You suppose you’re scared of what he’s become too.

The realization hits that you could defect from your friends, family, and home. You could undo everything that you and your friends have worked towards. But nothing he can say will change the fact that he didn’t choose you.

Luke was right, then.

You did have a choice, one that he still forces you to make as you nod at Percy to flip his last drachma into the open water, opening a direct line of communication to your father to catch the thief—of both lightning and the beat of your heart, in the act.

You realize that if the gods were the least bit grateful that you’ve kept their kids alive for the past half-decade, perhaps fate would be on your side and Luke would still be yours. But life has a funny way of working itself out when Luke admits to the open air of another crime to tack onto his list.

“Kronos was right. I should’ve killed you, Percy.”

The son of Poseidon goads Luke into another duel and you survey your surroundings for a way out. Annabeth burns holes into the side of your head and it gets you thinking, moving faster than you have in days as you walk towards her and Grover. At the raise of your hand, the demigods holding onto the pair drop to the deck, incapacitated with illusions of madness they will never comprehend. The more of them that surround you drop like flies as Luke’s eyes flicker between you and the boy he has at swordpoint.

You’ve gotten stronger in his absence—you never needed to touch him to use your powers after all. Just waiting for the right moment to strike, attacking when Luke finally let his guard down for you. He cracks his neck, knowing you’ve made your choice, so he makes his.

“Get them.”

The monster scrambles across the deck but it approaches you first, clawing at the wood and barely missing your feet as you scream for help, defenseless without a sword and you hear Luke yell your name in alarm before a punching glove-tipped arrow sends it hurtling overboard.

Your eyes lock with his again as you disembark with the Party Ponies, you with your crew as he corrals the mess you made of his. It has to be the salt air that makes your eyes seem a little misty.

Your fates have always been tied.

You protect your home, and he does what he can to protect you. Luke looks over your form like he’s checking if you’re okay, even from a distance— and it makes you wonder if this is how it's supposed to be. Someone leaving, and the both of you apart.

It’s weird to be the one leaving this time, but it isn't as easy as Luke makes it seem each time he does it.

You avert your eyes once you see him put his hand in his pocket, him finding what you snuck in on the way to the deck. Luke pulls out a leather bracelet with a black camp bead, the one he missed in the year he’s been gone. He rolls the bead between his fingers, the thing you last touched before leaving him, an emblem of his archnemesis and the summer that changed everything—the consequences of his actions ripping you away from him. When he slides it on his wrist, it lightly clinks against the hilt of his sword, the lone clay bead a force of its own against Backbiter's reverberating power. He feels nostalgia for what could have been crawling through him—though Luke supposes he’s always been too vulnerable when it comes to you.

Is this what you’ve been feeling every time he walks away?

It starts to rain after you leave. Luke watches his crew take cover from the downpour, running in all different directions to hide away from the storm that ravages the Princess Andromeda.

But he stands still, looking up at the sky and hating it for how openly it’s able to cry. Luke is far away from home again—from you and it makes him wonder how much longer he’ll have to be away from you when being with you is what he truly wants.

The mission continues and the ship keeps pushing forward even as the rain washes over him, soaking through his armor and straight to the bone. Raindrops pelt through every crevice, though this onslaught is much kinder, more gentle, even when it’s angry. He closes his eyes and lets it touch his skin.

For a moment, it feels like you.

—

A hand penetrates the tide searching for yours, gripping onto your unconscious one. He’s spent hours ripping holes through time to try to find you, an advantage given to him in a dream by the Titan. The agreement, what keeps him from not running back to you is that you live—and as Luke pulls you out of the ocean waterlogged and turning blue, he wonders if it’s all a farce.

Losing you isn’t worth the wrath of the gods if you’re lifeless in his arms like this.

He shouts your name, pumping your chest with his fists and breathing life back into your lips until you cough out saltwater, head lolling against his knee. Luke’s fingers stroke your hair, touching you for the first time in a year. As life slowly brings the color back into your cheeks he silently thanks Hestia for keeping your flame alight. His soldiers call out to him from the deck, and he steels his resolve as he rows the lifeboat back to the ship. Still, Luke has to uphold his side of the agreement.

He wonders if you’d stay. Even if he knows the answer, Luke wonders if you would ever change it for him.

—

And they tell me you are evil and I answer: Yes, I know. –Patricia Smith

½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader

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seokgyuu · 1 year

Text

→ PAIRING: Seokmin x Afab!Reader. → GENRE: College!Au, kinda comedy, small bit of angst if you look hard enough, teeny tiny fluff, smut MDNI. → SYNOPSIS: After having a crush on Lee Seokmin for three years, he somehow ends up wanting to be your roommate. Instead of rejecting him, you decide to give him the vacant room - right after confessing your feelings for him.

→ WARNINGS: roommate!seok, wet dreams, coming untouched (f), degradation, usage of the words slut, baby, angel, masturbation (m), making out, like really so much kissing, fingering, finger-sucking, she loves his fingers lol, unprotected sex (don't.. just don't), creampie.

→ WORDCOUNT: 11.5k

A/N: hi guys!! here it is (for some of you even on the date it was scheduled to be posted!), my first ever stand-alone svt fic! no part 2, no whole ass series, just this cute 11.5k baby I wrote after being deep inside my seokmin shaped hole (i am always in a seokmin shaped hole actually). i want to thank my bestie @honeykyeom for making the amazing header as well for being my inspiration for writing this <3 ily!! now, i hope you enjoy and as always please reblog & comment, these things are what makes writing worth while <3

You had a crush. A big fat stupid crush. And it was starting to get extremely annoying. You really tried to stop liking him because a.) he didn’t even know you existed and b.) even if he did he would never ever like you back because what are the odds for that to actually happen?

“People get together all the time, Y/N, stop being dumb,” Seungkwan, your best friend, would say on the regular since the topic came up basically every other day. Yet, you still didn’t believe the Lee Seokmin would ever give you so much as a second glance. He was too perfect. Perfect grades, perfect friend group, perfect face, perfect everything. You had first laid eyes on him on your first day of classes - he had started the same year as you, smile on his face, shiny new MacBook propped in front of him. He wore an adorable baby blue sweater and black rimmed glasses, his hair falling into his forehead and, god, you were gone the second you heard his honey dripping voice.

That had been three years ago and now, both of you in your senior years, you still hadn’t talked to him even once. Or well, no, you had, when he had asked you for a phone charger which you had given him in exactly three seconds. You were still proud of that.

“Hey, I heard you’re looking for a roommate?”

“Are you- are you talking to me?” Your index finger was pointing at yourself while you blinked a few times at the person in front of you.

“Uh, I mean, you are Y/N, right?” Kim Mingyu seemed just as confused as you. Probably because you were in fact Y/N and you were, in fact, looking for a roommate, but how on earth did he know that?

“No, I mean, yes, yes I am, but, uh, how do you- how do you know I’m looking for a roommate?”

“Oh, Seungkwan told me!”

“You know Seungkwan?!”

Mingyu seems a little startled by your sudden outburst. You cleared your throat before chuckling nervously.

“S-sorry, I just didn’t know Seungkwan and you knew each other.”

“We go to the same gym, actually, and I told him my friend is desperately looking for a place and he told me you are in search of a roommate so…,” his smile was bright and pretty and you felt like you were about to wake up from a dream because why the hell was Seokmin’s bestie talking to you as if he had done it thousand of times before?

“I see, uh, I mean, I am definitely desperate for a roommate, rent you know, like, uh, I need to pay it soon and… well, I am short half of it and that’s what I would… need the roommate for,” you scratched your ear. Smooth.

“No, I understand! And my friend is just as desperate. See, he just broke up with his long-term girlfriend, she cheated on him, and now he just really needs to move out.”

“Oh, damn, sorry about that. You can tell him he can come by, eh, does tomorrow work? Like afternoon-ish? I have classes until four.”

“Awesome! I’ll let him know, thank you Y/N!”

Mingyu beamed at you, his hand up in the air as he waved, walking away and out of the building. Letting out a sigh you hadn’t even known you were holding, you grabbed your phone from your bag and unlocked it, quickly moving your fingers over the display to call Seungkwan. Walking out the opposite direction Mingyu had, you waited for your best friend to pick up, pushing open the door into the hot air of the early evening.

“What’s up?” Seungkwan finally picked up and you rolled your eyes at the greeting.

“Hello to you too, Kwannie,” you said in a sweet voice, hearing Seungkwan scoff as a response.

“I’m in the middle of something, Y/N. So, what’s up?”

“Kim Mingyu just asked me if a friend of his can move in with me,” you raised your brows as you walked over the campus to the parking lot, the keys to your car already dangling from your fingers, “care to tell me why you didn’t mention that?”

“Ah, that, well, I actually met Mingyu at the gym earlier today, like super early morning, and heard him talk to his friend on the phone and well, since I do have a few classes with him, I thought I should offer.”

“You should offer? Pretty sure it’s still my apartment you were selling off to a stranger.”

“Now, now. Mingyu isn’t a stranger now, is he? How many times have you stalked his insta now to look at that one specific gym picture of Seokm-,”

“Whatever, just- just please, for the future, let me know when you tell someone about my living situation, alright?”

“Sure thing, bestie. Now, can I get back to what I was doing?”

“Of course. Tell Hansol I said hi.” Before he could either protest or deny, you hung up and shoved your phone into your pocket.

You dreamt of him again. It was a rare occasion, but it happened. Most of the time the dreams were innocent enough, just him touching your face, him laughing at your jokes, him simply acknowledging your existence.

But this one was different.

Seokmin was right above you, his body hot and sweaty. His eyes said so much more than words ever could and yet you longed to hear his voice. Longed to hear him say your name. He was buried deep inside you, his hips still, eyes never leaving yours. He throbbed, his whole body seemingly vibrated at how much he wanted you, your legs wrapped around his waist, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, mark you, fill you.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his hand caressing your face and you moved your head, your mouth sucking in his thumb, feeling him twitch inside of you.

“You can’t really talk with that in your mouth, can you, Y/N?” Fuck, his voice was so low so deep and when he finally moved down to kiss your neck, stuffing his thumb even further down your mouth, his hips now beginning to thrust, all of you began to shake.

Then, suddenly, you were in your living room, right there on that windowsill that connected the kitchen and the living room, his hips drilling into you. He was wearing a dress shirt and a black tie, but both of it was loosened around his neck, your hands on his broad shoulders as he seemed to have made it his goal to fuck you senseless. You were a moaning mess, his lips sucking harshly on your skin, you yourself being completely naked. His mouth was everywhere: your neck, your stiff nipple, your lips. He took all of you in and you breathed in every bit he gave you.

“You’re so fucking good for me, baby, so good, such a good little slut, letting me fuck her like this.”

“Mhm, y-yes, I l-love the way you f-fuck me, Seok!” His grip on you got stronger, hands digging harshly into your hips as he threw his head back now, your eyes taking in all of his beauty. The droplets of sweat, the bopping Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the way his vein popped out right there on his neck…

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he moaned and you nodded strongly, feeling your own climax so close.

“Please, want your cum so bad!” you whined and as if those had been the magic words, Seokmin emptied inside of you, the feeling of his cum hitting you so deep-

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You screamed, while your back hit the floor. You had fallen out of bed, your alarm blasting on the other side of your bed.

“Fuck,” you groaned, sitting up slowly, your hand rubbing the back of your head. Funnily enough, that wasn’t the only part of you that throbbed. Just for a completely different reason.

“You came in your sleep?” Seungkwan was impressed with you. You just wanted to punch him because why did he have to say that this loud right in the line for lunch?

“Shut up!” you said through gritted teeth and Seungkwan snorted, before grabbing the big spoon for the Kimchi.

“Don’t worry, no one is listening.” Instead of arguing with him you rolled your eyes and grabbed some Japchae before heading to the drinks.

“But to answer your question: yes, I did. And no, that has never happened before. Like, I never ever had a dream like that, Seungkwan, never!”

“Aw, I can’t believe my best friend lost her wet dream virginity at the ripe age of 24!” He grinned as the two of you sat down at an empty table. You ignored him.

“It was so real. I honestly feel sick to my stomach. How could it have been so real?”

It was truly astonishing to you. Hours had passed and the dream was still there, playing in your head over and over again, making you squeeze your thighs together more than not in the worst moments. Statistic class wasn’t supposed to make you horny and yet, you couldn’t say it hadn’t.

“I’m jealous. I never had an actual wet dream make me cum before, like yeah, I woke up with cum in my underwear before, but then again that’s kind of normal I guess?”

“Dude! You don’t need wet dreams to make you orgasm, you have a literal boyfriend!”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Seungkwan protested and you grabbed your juice box to take a dramatic sip from it.

“Well, sounds like a you problem. Doesn’t change the fact you’re getting laid, though.” Seungkwan scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. He apparently didn’t have a comeback. Served him right.

“It’s not like you are trying to change that,” nevermind. You sigh, putting the drink down again.

“What am I supposed to do? Just hook up with a random guy and act like I’m not madly in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist?”

“He knows you exist, you god damn drama queen. You had every class together first semester!”

You ignored him. Instead, you decided that your Japchae is the most interesting thing you had ever seen. Seungkwan shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“You’re an idiot, Y/N. Like the biggest idiot I have ever met.”

“Takes one to know one,” you muttered as a response, feeling a piece of kimchi hitting your cheek the next second.

You were home at four forty-five and hoped there would still be time to clean up the place at least a little bit before the potential-new-roommate-slash-friend-of-Kim-Mingyu showed up. In record time you found yourself standing in a semi-clean living room (meaning: maybe the floor showed some signs of needing to be vacuumed, but at least everything looked tidy) with all the windows open in hope for some cool air because you sure as hell weren’t going to turn on the AC without another person to cover the costs.

Just as you finished changing into some clothes not sweated through, the doorbell rang. Quickly, you made your way to the door, buzzing them up, only to hear a knock on the door next. Oh, so he had been let in already. Putting on your most charming smile, you pulled the door open, only for the smile to fade the second you saw who stood there right in front of your door.

“Y/N?”

Lee Seokmin had just said your name. And he was standing in front of your apartment.

“Seokmin, what- what are you doing here?” You asked, oblivious to the situation.

“I- uh, I- Mingyu said he told you I was coming?”

“Mingyu? No he said that-,” you lost your ability to speak just then. The friend Mingyu had been talking about-

“Wait, you- you’re the potential new roommate?!” Your voice was barely anything but a squeak. Seokmin looked a little lost, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his oversized yellow jumper.

“Yeah, did he not mention that?”

Nope, seems like he forgot that part. You swallowed, pressing your lips together for a second while your brain tried to fully grasp the situation. This was Seokmin. Aka the guy you have been in love with for three years. And he wanted to move in with you.

“Uh, no. Sorry, please come in!” You took a step back and Seokmin smiled at you (HE smiled at YOU!!!), walking into your apartment and looking around as you closed the door, hoping your racing heart would calm down. You wouldn’t exactly bet on it though.

Seokmin took his shoes off and you watched him, already beginning to chew on your lip like you always did when you were nervous. He turned around and you quickly smiled, walking into the living space.

“So, this is the living room, it uh-,” you stopped speaking, your eyes now on the window connecting the kitchen and living room, on the windowsill you had just dreamt about last night. Your face suddenly got very hot.

“It connects to the kitchen through that window, which I thought was really cool, big selling point,” you watched as Seokmin walked over to the kitchen, his eyes roaming through the room and when he stopped in front of the window, hand touching the sill you nearly felt yourself loose footing. Why the fuck did he have to do this? For a second you were convinced this was just another dream.

“It definitely is unique,” he said, nodding and walking into the small but modern kitchen.

“Uhm, there is a dishwasher in the kitchen and a microwave. We don’t have an oven, but I am pretty sure I have like a small one in the attic. I am more of a take-out or quick meal kind of gal, so I don’t really use it much. But if you were interested in baking something, I could definitely get it down,” Jesus, why on earth were you talking so much? But Seokmin seemed to appreciate it, nodding understandingly as he looked around with a small pout on his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment (or maybe it was the perfect moment) to stare at him, but you did. You watched his every move, how he checked out the cupboards, how he asked before he opened the fridge, how he pulled a hand through his hair as he asked a question.

Oh!

“Sorry?” You crossed your arms, the hotness of your cheeks only increasing. Seokmin chuckled.

“I asked if you had a certain system in your fridge with your old roommate.”

“Oh, well, not really. We kind of always planned what we were going to eat, she was a big cook actually. Enjoyed it a lot. I store my Ramen right here, wait,” you walked into the kitchen fully now too, to the cupboard next to where Seokmin was standing and got on your tiptoes to reach for the door, opening it in a swing.

“There,” you explained, looking over at Seokmin - only to see him look at you instead of the food. You blinked a few times. He blushed.

“Ah, yes, I see. Cool. So, uh, no system. That’s fine with me! I wouldn’t say I’m a cook per sé, but I can hook up some simple dishes,” he turned away, your whole body suddenly feeling a lot hotter than a second before. Nodding, you closed the cupboard again and walked back outside. Seokmin followed you.

You showed him the rest of the apartment (except for your room) and finally the two of you ended up in the living room again where you sat down on the couch.

“I, uh, I would love to take the room, Y/N. But it’s obviously up to you.” His smile was so… you gulped down whatever response you had in your mind. Now wasn’t the time to eat right out of his hands, no, you had to think about this. On the one hand, you really needed a roommate. There was no chance you could hold this apartment by yourself and you really didn’t want to move. But on the other hand, this was Seokmin. You couldn’t just let him move in with you when you liked him this much, could you? At least not without him knowing. An idea popped into your head. It was risky and stupid and you would probably regret this. But then again - if he wanted to move in, and apparently he was just as desperate as you to get this room, it would only be fair to let him know what the situation was.

“Look, Seokmin,” you started, your hands in your lap, your heart racing again (or still). You looked up at him, your cheeks still bright red. Seokmin watched you, unsure what to make of your current behavior. He decided to just let you talk.

“I really need a roommate. And you really need a place to live. Mingyu, uh, he told me about the break-up and I’m really sorry about that,” - you were also happy you hadn’t tried to make a move considering he had a girlfriend -, “but I would feel horrible to let you take this room without knowing the full truth.”

Now, Seokmin got a little spooked. The full truth? Were you going to confess that you were a drug dealer? Part of some gang? But then you probably wouldn’t need a roommate considering you’d make good money.

“I, uh, okay,” Seokmin swallowed hard. You took a deep breath.

“I like you. As in, I like you. I have for years now. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, and to be honest, even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have succeeded in getting over this crush. I’m not telling you because I am expecting anything from you, I promise, hell, I never planned on telling you ever. But you want the room and I would be happy to give it to you, I would just feel weird having you live here with this big secret to keep.”

There were approximately three minutes of silence in which you were sure Seokmin would get up and leave. He stared at you, his mouth slightly dropped and you could have kicked yourself for finding him endearing. Starting to shift on your seat once the third minute started, Seokmin realized he had been staring instead of answering. But then again, he really had not expected this sudden confession.

“I, uh, I am flattered, Y/N, really, I just, I- I just got out of a relationship and-,”

“I know that! As I said, I didn’t tell you because I want anything from you. I have been happy liking you from afar, Seokmin. And who knows, maybe having you close by all the time will actually make me stop liking you. I mean, what if you’re like a total slob or listen to super weird historical podcasts?”

“What do you have against historical podcasts?” Seokmin asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. You chuckled.

“Nothing in particular. But my last roommate listened to them on like full blast. Just got annoying at some point.”

He nodded now, understanding. Yeah, he could see why that would be annoying at some point. Still, that wasn’t the real issue here. Or, well, was it really an issue? He cleared his throat.

“I- I don’t take you as someone who would let her feelings get the best of her. And, to be honest, I’m not really the type of guy you should have a crush on, Y/N. But, uh, I’m still very flattered. And I don’t think this would stop me from moving in, as you said, we are both desperate.”

You were surprised and it showed. Seokmin chuckled.

“Or do you not want me here?”

“No! I do, I really need you to move in,” you said, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Seokmin nodded again.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll get my stuff asap and then we’ll be roomies.”

“Can’t wait!”

Seungkwan thought you were insane. He hadn’t known it was Seokmin when Mingyu had approached him and now he regretted ever offering it.

“What do you mean you told him?!” He was sitting at your small dinner table in the living room. You shrugged.

“What was I supposed to do? Just let him move in and carry this huge ass secret with me all the time? I don’t think so.”

“You could have just told him no, Y/N.”

“Right, and then what? I see him in class every other day? How awkward would that be?”

“You mean as awkward as living with a guy who knows you have a crush on him?!” When you shrugged again, Seungkwan groaned, pulling his hands over his face.

“You’re seriously insane, I can’t believe you did this!”

And about a week after Seokmin had officially moved in, you couldn’t believe it either.

Living with Seokmin proved to do the exact opposite of what you had mentioned in your chat with him. He wasn’t a slob. And he also didn’t listen to any podcast on full volume. He cleaned, cooked, gave you space. Every morning he got up earlier than you and prepared coffee, before going out for a jog - only to come back while you were having breakfast, looking all sweaty and sexy. The first time this had happened you had choked on your toast, drinking what felt like one whole liter of orange juice before finally being able to stop coughing. Seokmin had hit your back a few times, apologizing for startling you. And yet, he didn’t stop doing it, which made you used to it after a while (it didn’t).

Instead of falling out of love with him, you found yourself drawn to him even more, craving his presence. When he was gone, you missed him, and when he was home you wanted to hear everything about his day, wanted to eat dinner with him, watch a new episode of that show you had started together.

Seokmin was outside in the living room, his laptop placed on his lap, an essay he needed to proof read opened as he sipped on a can of beer. He was on his favorite spot on the floor, right in front of the couch, leaning his back against it. Actually, he had wanted to go to sleep an hour ago, but then he had talked with his sister on the phone and now he was back to this. It had been two months since he had moved in with you despite knowing you had feelings for him. Back when you had originally told him, he had felt like he should probably run because the last thing he needed right now was complicated. Things with Hyorin had been complicated enough. But, as he now knew, you weren’t complicated in the slightest. More so the opposite. It didn’t take long for Seokmin to begin to understand you and your patterns. It also didn’t take long for him to figure out how much you actually liked him. If he had been anyone else he might have taken advantage of that. Flirt with you, get you into his bed. But he was Seokmin, he wasn’t a guy who would do that. Not that he hadn’t… thought about it. Seeing the way you looked at him, especially after his morning runs or when he came back from the gym in the evening… it took everything in him not to imagine you looking at him that way when he was fucking you.

Seokmin wasn’t a sex-hungry person, normally. Maybe because he had been in a long-term relationship for five years. But now, with his relationship being over for two months and the periods before that being dry in the sex department… he was starting to miss it. Dearly.

So, when he sat there on the floor, his head focusing on the contents of this essay he wrote a day earlier in the library, he couldn’t really help getting distracted by the sounds coming from your room. His ears perked up and his head turned sideways, throat already drying up. Were you crying? Maybe you were-

“O-oh.”

His laptop slipped from his lap when he got up. His heart speed rose and sweat was starting to form on his hairline. That certainly wasn’t the type of crying he had meant. Slowly, he walked over to the door of your room that he only now realized wasn’t properly shut. He felt bad, guilty even, when he peeked through the small opening, seeing you apparently asleep. A dream? He licked his lips. Were you dreaming?

“S-Seokmin.”

Something inside him switched over. His whole body started to heat up, his cock desperately beginning to twitch in his briefs. Fuck, he hadn’t ever expected that hearing you moan his name would do so much. You were dreaming, yes, about him. And he heard you, heard you moaning, the whimpers. And god, did you sound perfect. He leaned against the wall next to your room, letting his dick get harder with every second, waiting for your noises like an addict. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t get himself to move away and mind his own business. He was intoxicated by you. He took everything he could, every breath, as small as they might be. The sighs following the moan of his name.

For now, he only listened. He didn’t want to touch himself here, didn’t want to be that type of person. But then again, he had already parked himself right outside your room, listening to you having a wet dream, it wasn’t like beginning to jerk off would make much of a difference. So, he slowly moved his hand, palming himself over his sweats, feeling how hard he was because of you. He closed his eyes, ears concentrating only on you. He wondered what you were dreaming about. What was he doing to you right now? Was he holding you down as he fucked you? Was he going down on you, tasting you? God, he really wanted to taste you.

For a second he contemplated going in and waking you up - making your dream reality. But he couldn’t. Not knowing what he did.

Opening his eyes, he suddenly felt guilt rushing over him and he was quick to close your door, making his way over to where he had sat earlier and grabbing his laptop.

Once he was in his own room, door locked and all, he tried to clear his head of the sounds you had made, of the way it was him you were dreaming about. But with his cock this hard and you so close… it was no use. He put his laptop on his desk and laid down on his bed after, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t hear you from his room and, god, was he relieved. Not hearing you did not equal not remembering you, though. And so, knowing he was going to lose to his conscience anyways, he opened the drawer in his bedside table and got out the package of lube, squeezing a bit on his right hand, while the left shoved down his sweats and briefs, letting his erection hit the cool air of his room.

He sighed in relief when his right hand began squeezing him, head leaned back into the pillows, hand now moving up and down slowly. You were right there in front of his inner eye, the way you sounded, but also the image of how you would look underneath him. Moaning his name, begging him to go faster. Then, he imagined your cheek stuffed with his cock, imagined your teary eyes when he began fucking down your throat.

“F-fuck,” he couldn’t help but go faster, his hips lifting up his bed as he fucked his fist, wishing it was your pussy or your mouth, any of your holes would do. How badly he wanted to hear you beg, wanted you to be on your knees, mouth open and tongue out, ready to take whatever he was willing to give. Pouty lips and round eyes, wishing for nothing more than Seokmin’s cock filling you up.

“God, just like that, Y/N, f-fuck,” he couldn’t help but moan as he came, his load landing on his clothed chest.

Coming down from his high, Seokmin opened his eyes, blinking a few times before he really understood what had happened. Groaning, he let his left hand rub over his face, before he shook his head and sat up. He got rid of his shirt and threw it in the laundry bin, walking to the door unlocking and opening it to go to the bathroom - only to run into you who just came out of the bathroom. Your eyes grew wide when you spotted Seokmin - shirtless and sweaty and with this certain look in his eyes that made your legs grow weaker.

Not knowing what he was doing, Seokmin walked straight over to you, his hands finding the sides of your neck, his lips crashing into yours a second later. You didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do - but you kissed him back, your hands on his broad back, as he pushed you against the wall, his meaty perfect thigh shoved between your legs now, pressing against your still sensitive core. You gasped into the kiss, his tongue now devouring yours, one of his hands moving down and underneath your shirt, grabbing your breast and squeezing it harshly. Your arms locked around his neck, moans getting caught by his skillful mouth. Were you still dreaming?

“Seokmin,” you moaned when his hand squeezed your nipple and only then did he realize what was happening. Immediately, he parted from you, causing you to miss his kiss and touch the second he left.

“What-,” you began, but before you could even finish the question, he had already turned around and walked back into his room, closing the door behind him. And locking it.

He acted like nothing happened. You were anxiously waiting in the kitchen the next morning, but once he came back from his run he just showed you his normal goofy self, excusing himself to go take a shower. The way you had stood there, fully ready (not really) to talk about the night before, still in your pjs, still dizzy from the dream you had had as well as the very real kiss afterward. Why had he done that? Had he suddenly turned into a sleepwalker? A sleepwalker that kissed his roommate as if he had been starving?

You sure as hell weren’t going to bring it up first. So, you played along, pretending like it didn’t happen.

“I am declaring you clinically insane, Y/N,” Seungkwan was munching away on his corndog, while you and his (not) boyfriend Hansol sat opposite him at one of the smaller booths of the diner.

“He started it,” you shrugged, grabbing your own corndog now to take a bite from it.

“Okay, and? You could have started the conversation. For example: “Hey roomie, so about that night where you came out of your room clearly just done with getting yourself off and then kissed me? Like really hard? Against a wall?” See, that would have been a great conversation starter.”

You deadpanned at him.

“You’re an idiot,” shaking your head, you leaned back in your seat, “what if he really like, I don’t know, was in a delirious state? Maybe he drank alone before bed and just had a black out?”

“Or maybe he is an asshole who can’t own up to his actions,” Seungkwan shrugged, “but sure, yours sounds way more likely.”

“Seungkwan is right, Y/N. You should just bring it up,” Hansol looked at you and you sighed, letting your head drop onto the table.

“I don’t think I can. I’m too mortified. What if he totally regrets kissing me and that’s why he is pretending like it didn’t happen?”

“That still doesn’t give him permission to act this way. I don’t care if he is deeply in love with you or hates you, I just want him to be humane enough to tell you.”

It stung, the way he was right. Whatever Seokmin was feeling, he had to share it with you. He couldn’t just-

“Am I going crazy or is Seokmin standing outside?” You raised your head again, eyes wide when you realized you were, in fact, not going crazy. Seokmin was right there outside the diner, on the other side of the street, his phone in his hand, an anxious look on his face.

“Did you tell him you were coming here?” Hansol asked and you shook your head.

“No, we barely saw each other this morning.”

What was he doing here? And why did he look like he would rather be anywhere else? Your eyes scanned the surroundings, a sour feeling suddenly spreading in your guts. You were only a few streets down from your apartment, the street wasn’t exactly busy but had some really good places to eat. This was the perfect meeting spot for-

“Who’s that?” Seungkwan shifted closer to the window next to you, his eyes squeezed together as if he was trying harder to recognise whoever had just shown up next to Seokmin. You didn’t have to know her to… know her. Hyorin. His ex-girlfriend that had cheated on him. He had mentioned her to you only a few times, you being a little reluctant to ask considering he knew how you felt about him. But from what you had gathered he hated her, never wanted to see her again. So why was he here now? With her?

“Is that…?” Seungkwan looked over at you, worry displayed on his face and you pressed your lips together as you nodded.

She was beautiful. Tall, long silky black hair. Her skin glowing even from here. She was the girl Seokmin should be kissing in his delirious state, in any state, really. You swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill out and averted your gaze. Your appetite had left you and you wanted nothing more than to flee the scene, go home and never think of this moment again.

“Should we leave?” Hansol asked, looking over at Seungkwan a little helplessly. Seungkwan nodded quickly and his (not) boyfriend grabbed your arm and helped you get out of the booth. As much as you felt like yelling at him that you didn’t need this help, as much did you appreciate the gesture. Seungkwan paid at the front desk and you left the diner, your heart in desperate need for some distraction.

When Seokmin got home that evening, you weren’t there. A part of him was relieved while another one already missed your presence. Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and finally slipped down onto the couch, hands rubbing over his face. This whole thing was a mess. Today was a mess. Hyorin had called him and asked him to meet up and because he was who he was he had said yes. He should have known she would just try to apologize for the nth time, telling him it had only happened once and that he was the only one for her. Little did she know that he gave zero fucks at this point. He didn’t want her anymore, he didn’t love her anymore. She had broken his heart and stomped on it, had lied and cheated, had done all these horrible things to him. And yet, he was somewhat grateful because now he was right here. In your apartment.

It was silly, really, because he had been dating Hyorin for two years already when he saw you the first time. You and your cute gray sweatshirt and the high ponytail. You, who had been the cutest person in every single one of your classes together. You, who he couldn’t develop feelings for because he had a girlfriend. Unlike Hyorin, he wasn’t a cheater. He had loved her, truly loved her. And he had been shattered when he found out about the other guy, feeling like he could never be fixed again. He had to get out of the shared apartment, had to leave it all behind as soon as he possibly could - and he had somehow ended up on your doorstep. It was crazy how the universe worked.

And as if that hadn’t been enough, you suddenly confessed to him, turning all of his feelings upside down. Because what was he supposed to say? Supposed to do? God, he was heartbroken over Hyorin and yet there was this ray of light in the shape of a girl that loved to spend her evenings watching trashy teen drama and cry over a bucket of Ben & Jerry’s when a character you didn’t even particularly like died on screen.

Seokmin didn’t want to allow him to like you. He was scared that maybe you liking him altered his brain chemistry, that perhaps he would want to be with you only as a rebound and you were too good, too perfect to be anything of that kind. And so, when that night had happened and he had lost his composure, he knew he messed up. He knew you had feelings for him, god, he probably would have figured it out even if you hadn’t told him. Not just because of the dream he had overheard but because of the way you looked at him. The way you smiled, the way you laughed. He didn’t want you to look at anyone else like that.

The sound of a door unlocking filled the quiet room now and was soon joined by the giggles of a girl and the nervous laugh of a guy - and both of these voices were familiar to Seokmin. He immediately got up and walked over to the entry way - only to see Mingyu holding your waist as you, obviously drunk, tried to get out of your shoes.

“Mingyu?” Seokmin asked confusedly.

“Oh, hey Seok,” Mingyu said, holding you steady as you felt your knees giving in.

“What- what is going on?”

“We met at a bar, she was with Seungkwan and his boyfriend-,”

“He is not his boyfriend!” you interrupted him with a giggle.

“Uh, right, Seungkwan and his not-boyfriend were also super drunk and I called them a cab, but I really didn’t want to send Y/N home on her own so-,”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Seokmin now came closer, his eyes set on his best friend’s hand around your waist, his insides slowly but surely heating up with something he could only recognize as jealousy.

“Uh, I thought you were busy with… you know.”

Seokmin’s jaw tensed, his eyes fixed on Mingyu who had successfully held you down as you stepped out of your shoes.

“That has been resolved hours ago, Mingyu.”

“And how was he supposed to know that, hm?” The sudden sound of your voice made both men look over at you. Your hand was raised, finger pointed at Seokmin accusingly.

“Y/N-“, Mingyu started, but you shook your head and finally freed yourself from Mingyu’s grasp.

“No! No, I’m tired of this! Was it nice? Seeing your perfect ex again? Do you want to go back to her now? Move out and act like I don’t exist? Like you didn’t kiss me?”

Mingyu held his breath. You had told him all this in the bar earlier, where he had met you and Seungkwan and Hansol and where he had realized that you were madly in love with his best friend. He felt bad about you having seen Seokmin with Hyorin, but even more did he feel bad because it was also so painfully obvious that Seokmin liked you, too.

“I think you’re drunk,” Seokmin noted and you laughed, throwing your hands in the air. Mingyu stayed quiet.

“Do you, now? How observant of you, Seokmin.”

The two of you were staring at each other now, fury in both your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t know what he was angry about. After all you weren’t the one running back to her ex after kissing him the way he had you.

“I, uh, I guess I should go now,” Mingyu pointed at the door with his thumb over his shoulder, “you seem to… well, have a lot to talk about.”

The normally so cheerful and kind Seokmin didn’t wish his best friend a good night, nor did he even look at him when he left. Instead he kept looking at you, saw the way you waved at Mingyu and thanked him, your hand squeezing his arm. Lightning was shooting through him. Jealousy was about to eat him up, was about to make him grab you and yell that you shouldn’t touch Mingyu like that. It was dumb and he knew it. You made him crazy, you made him dumb. Like a teenager who was in love for the first time, unsure what to make of it.

Once the door had fallen shut, you stormed past your roommate, ready to enter your room and not leave it until the next day. Just that you didn’t get far. Seokmin ended up grabbing your arm after all, his touch burning on your skin.

“Mingyu is right, we do have a lot to talk about,” he said in a hushed voice, making you scoff.

“Fine, then talk.” With whatever willpower you had left, you looked at him. Saw the way his eyes were full of an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint - the fury from before still slightly visible but not alone. Perhaps it was anger for you speaking to him the way you had. Or maybe he was just annoyed at you for being drunk and loud and stupid.

“Look, Y/N. What happened between us was… it shouldn’t have happened, alright?”

“Why? Because you’re back together with your cheating ex?”

“No! God, no, I would never get back with Hyorin. And I can’t believe Mingyu told you about this and-,”

“He didn’t!” You freed yourself out of his grip, your eyes dangerously beginning to prickle, “I saw you. With her.”

He inhaled audibly - he hadn’t expected this. You saw him? With Hyorin? No wonder you were this upset. He pulled his hand through his hair.

“She wanted to talk things out. And because I’m too nice of a person I told her yes. Y/N, I don’t want to be with her anymore. She broke my heart, she hasn’t been the girl I fell in love with for ages now.”

“Why did you kiss me?” If you were honest, you didn’t really care about when Hyorin had stopped being the girl Seokmin loved. You were more interested in whether you were.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pang. Your face flinched before your jaw tensed.

“Right,” your voice was smaller than you had wanted it to be, and the tears were even closer to spilling now. Of course he regretted it. Regretted kissing you, regretted making you feel the way you had. Because why would it be any different? Perhaps you should have tried to hook up with Mingyu tonight just to feel something different than this ache inside of you.

“I just- fuck, I just don’t want to take advantage of you. Of what you feel for me.”

Now, the tears of hurt were quickly changing to tears of anger. This man really had a talent in making you switch emotions in seconds.

“Excuse me? You- what?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head, “don’t do this. Don’t make yourself look like a hero because you stepped back from kissing me. You did that because you wanted to. I didn’t come onto you even once in all the time you’ve been living here. So don’t you dare pin this on me or my feelings.” You hated that you began to shake and that your voice was higher than anticipated. You hated that the way he looked at you made you feel small and idiotic, made you feel as if you were the dumbest person on this earth. Instead of waiting for his response, you turned around on your heel, walking into your room and slamming the door shut behind you.

No one wanted to be in Seokmin’s shoes right now. After your fight he had also retreated back to his room, not exactly sure how to ever face you again. A day later he was at lunch with Mingyu, Cheol and Joshua and they all looked at him like he had suddenly grown three heads.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Joshua judged, shaking his head. Seokmin sighed, throwing his napkin on the table.

“Come on, was it really that bad?”

“Yes,” all three of his friends said in union, all their eyes on him, no sign of humor. Seokmin swallowed.

“I really thought I was doing the right thing,” he mumbled now, letting his head fall, eyes studying the pattern of the wooden table.

“By doing what? Pushing away a girl that’s absolutely crazy about you? That has been nothing but kind and wonderful towards you? That you very obviously have feelings for?” Mingyu snorted, crossing his arms, “no, that most certainly wasn’t the right thing to do, Seokmin.”

While Seokmin stayed silent, Seungcheol and Joshua nodded, telling Seokmin, once again, that he was an idiot. It was no use, though. He already knew he was! He knew he had messed up and even though a part of him still thought that, maybe, his intention had been noble, the part was slowly but surely getting kicked out.

“And what do you expect me to do? I can’t just go up to her and tell her that I was wrong for saying that. She doesn’t even talk to me!”

“Can’t really blame her, can you?” Seungcheol took a sip from his iced tea.

“Look, it’s only been a day. Let her calm down, give her space. Give yourself some more time to come up with the right thing to say. I’m sure it will be fine, you and Y/N will be fine.”

And as much as Seokmin appreciated the tough love followed by Joshua’s words of affirmation, he wasn’t sure it was really helping him. In fact, he wasn’t sure what could help him considering you started ignoring him from then on, even avoiding your shared space to either stay at Seungkwan’s place or just come home once Seokmin was already in bed. Every class you had together, you would sit right by one of the doors, arriving at the latest and leaving as soon as possible. Whilst Seokmin was trying his hardest to come up with a way to apologize to you, to win you back, you were trying your best to forget about your feelings for him. And for the most part it was even successful - you being mad at him and feeling like an idiot whenever you thought about the kiss you two had shared. But then again, only for the most part.

“You can’t just force yourself out of love with someone,” Seungkwan said on the nth night you’ve been sitting on his couch, a bucket of ice cream in your arms, the AC on the highest setting because, holy hell, was it hot outside.

“I can try,” you shrugged, staring at the TV screen. Seungkwan sighed, letting his eyes wander over your frame. You didn’t look your best, the hurt definitely coming through with bags under your eyes, your hair looking frizzy, the shirt you were wearing a stain right in the middle and when he had asked you about it, you couldn’t even tell him where that had come from.

So, when he got a call from Kim Mingyu two days later, he was eager as ever to meet up and hopefully get you off his couch.

The setting was in a small coffee shop, Seokmin seated nervously next to Mingyu who had ordered an iced americano for each of them. Seungkwan looked from one handsome guy to the other, clearing his throat.

“So, I’m guessing this is about Y/N?” he raised a brow and Mingyu quickly nodded, while Seokmin shifted on his seat, hands clasped around his plastic cup.

“Yup. Do you have any idea what Seok over here can do to, you know, get her to speak to him again?” Mingyu pointed at Seokmin with his thumb and Seungkwan chuckled as he watched Seokmin slap the thumb away, his cheeks a bright red.

“I’m sorry, I would’ve never come to you about this, but I’m desperate at this point. She is never home and when she is, she makes it her mission to not even acknowledge my existence.”

“Yeah, when she’s not home she is at my place. And let me tell you, it’s getting incredibly annoying, considering I have a “not-boyfriend” that I’d really like to invite over,” clicking his tongue, Seungkwan leaned back and grabbed his own beverage, taking a sip from the bright blue straw, “so, I am more than happy to help.”

For a few minutes they brainstormed, Mingyu suggesting that maybe Seokmin should just ambush her, maybe get a pair of handcuffs and- yeah, he was shut down by both Seokmin and Seungkwan rather quickly. Seokmin said that maybe he should just continue texting her and that perhaps she’d come around, but Seungkwan shook his head, telling him there was no use, he had never met anyone worse at texting and reading texts than his best friend.

After a moment of silence in which they all seemed a bit defeated, Seungkwan watched Mingyu take out his phone and open a message he had received on instagram. The only blonde at the table had never been quicker to sit up and almost knock over his drink.

“I know what you have to do.”

It had been two weeks since you had last talked to Seokmin and for once you were inside your apartment, knowing that he was at class while yours had been canceled. It was nice to be back home during day time for a change, your feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. A book in your lap that you had discarded for a bit to check your phone, only to be hit in the face by a cruel, cruel reality. The book slipped off your lap as you withdrew your legs from the table and instead kneeled on the couch, both hands gripping your phone tightly.

“He has got to be joking,” you mumbled, feeling dizzy as you stared at the mirror pic Seokmin had posted half an hour ago. He hadn’t posted in months. Basically since he and Hyerin had broken up. His insta was mainly blank except for a few pictures he had taken of pretty sceneries. Never had he ever posted gym selfies. No. That had been Mingyu, showing off Seokmin’s body in his pictures as well as his own.

To be fair, there wasn’t much body to see on the selfie. It was him in the gym, his long sleeved shirt rolled up above his elbows, showing enough arm to make you head feel crazy. His left hand was holding his phone, his fingers spread over it and, fuck, his hand. His hair was just slightly messy, his jaw and neck on full display and you forgot how to breathe. Arousal pooled in between your legs now and you honestly couldn’t even understand why. Perhaps, you thought, because this was the first time you had seen his face in almost two weeks and this picture just fed into all of your small kinks about him. Swallowing hard, you licked your lips and continued to bury your teeth into the bottom one, your pussy already throbbing. How pathetic. Little did you know you were about to become even more pathetic. Only now did your eyes spot the small symbol on the right side of the post, signaling you that there wasn’t just one picture. With a throat as dry as the desert, you clicked back on the post, a shaking index finger swiping to the left, only to be met by what could only be described as worse. There you had the body you had so desperately wished for. Leaned back on what you assumed to be a bench press, his legs adjourned in baggy jeans you had seen him wear a handful of times. Back then you had been happy to not see them on him this much because for whatever reason he was even more sexy in them. They weren’t even tight (as baggy jeans already suggested), but they still seemed to fit him perfectly. And now, with him manspreading over a bench in the gym, the red-white shirt with a car race theme, sleeves still rolled up, one arm hanging over his right thigh, holding onto the black leather beneath him, showing off a pretty vein you could literally already feel underneath your tongue. He was crazy. Crazy and mean and horrible and you knew all of this on purpose. His fingers on display, his thighs looking so big in those god forsaken jeans. Hair messy, jawline looking so sharp you were sure it could cut glass.

And as if all of this wasn’t bad enough, you suddenly heard the door clicking open. Your head jerked up, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed burgundy. When you saw Seokmin walk through the door and finally into the living room, you felt your phone slip from your hand and onto the couch. He was carrying a gym bag, his hair still slightly damp. His skin was glowing and his eyes were widened in surprise. He most definitely hadn’t expected to see you.

“I thought you had class?” He said, his gym bag dropping onto the floor next to him. You slowly got up from the couch.

“Got canceled. Yours?”

“Same.”

Nodding, you came to a stop in front of him, his tall figure towering over you, your chest heaving, head clouded by the smell of his cologne, of the knowledge he had posted that picture most definitely to get to you. With a heartbeat the speed of light, you looked into his eyes.

“Did Seungkwan tell you to post those pictures?” you whispered. Seokmin hesitated. Then he nodded.

“Did it work?” he asked, head slightly tilted to the side.

Instead of answering, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips against his. Seokmin immediately reacted, hands on the small of your back, pushing you closer. This kiss was different from the first, not less exciting or dizzying, but you felt more in control, felt more like this was it, this was what you had craved for so long.

Seokmin, meanwhile, was on cloud nine, your lips feeling so incredible on his. For him this was all he had wanted for the last weeks and while he had gotten that small taste back then, nothing could have prepared him for what he was feeling right now. All sense of self control left his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, asking to be let in. Once your tongues touched, there was no way in hell this was going to end. You moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his skin while he moved his hands down, wrapping around your thighs to lift you up. Instinctively your legs swung around him, his hands leaving burns where he touched you.

He moved over to the couch where you had sat before, sitting down with you now straddling him, both of your hands roaming around the other’s body. You let your fingers slide under his shirt and together you took it off, lips parting momentarily and letting you admire his toned chest, his abs and shoulders. You took your sweet time, fingers caressing his skin while your lips latched onto his neck, sucking harshly. Seokmin moaned, one hand on the back of your head, while the other laid on your thigh.

With every passing second you felt yourself grow wetter, your hips beginning to grind down, both of your clothed crotches meeting, making both of you even more desperate. Seokmin grabbed your face, kissing you passionately once more, thumbs on either side of your cheeks. You whimpered when you felt him buck up, his erection already making your head spin. Never had you ever wanted anyone as bad. Finally, his hands moved to take off your shirt, leaving you in shorts and nothing else. A groan escaped him, hands all over your breasts, lips sucking your hard nipple inside his mouth, your head falling back, hands digging into his scalp. He was devouring your tits one at a time, hands squeezing them harshly as you couldn’t help but move your hips against him.

“S-Seokmin, please,” you whined, the arousal literally audible. Hearing you say his name like this… Seokmin parted from your chest and instead looked up at you.

“Seungkwan told me something,” he whispered, one hand now moving down, while the other was back on your face, “he told me you take a… certain liking to my fingers.” The smirk on his face made you forget to kill Seungkwan later. You licked over your lips, biting down on it after, only to let out a small gasp when his right hand slipped into your shorts, pressing down on the wet spot between your legs. He sucked in a breath.

“Fuck, arren’t you wet for me, angel?” He whispered, while his other hand moved to your lips now, his eyebrows shooting up as he held eye contact. You knew what he wanted and you were more than eager to oblige. Parting your lips and stretching out your tongue, Seokmin felt himself twitch as he laid his index and middle finger on top of your tongue.

“Suck,” he then ordered you and without thinking twice, you did as asked. The fingers were long and thin and perfect and your eyes rolled back when you felt him press down on your tongue, his eyes becoming a little crazier with every passing second.

“Both your holes stuffed with my fingers, what do you think?” his voice made goosebumps erupt all over your body, moaning around his digits while nodding wildly. Seokmin chuckled, not saying anything as he shoved your panties to the side, your hips almost automatically lifting so he could coat himself in your juice, his cock growing harder with every inch of him that got blessed with your arousal.

“Think you can take two already?” when you nodded again, he immediately let his pretty fingers sink into you, both of you moaning at the contact. He sank in as deep as he could, until every bit was inside of you, knuckles deep, making him feel like he was either going to cum in his pants or simply explode.

“God, you feel so fucking good, angel. Common, fuck yourself on my fingers and don’t forget to suck.”

Your body began moving right away. Your mouth was sucking his fingers as if they were his cock, tongue pressing, tongue flicking against them. Head bobbing back and forth as your hips moved up and down on his other hand, his fingers feeling heavenly inside your walls. And when he put his thumb on your clit, you were sure the heavenly feeling would soon get you to cum all over him.

“Good girl, doing so well for me, fuck,” Seokmin felt his throat dry up, sweat forming on the top of his head. How badly he wanted to fuck you right now, just get his fingers out and replace them with his throbbing cock - but he wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to see you live out your dream with his fingers buried inside of you, with your saliva coating his one hand and your perfect, sweet arousal the other. He wanted to see you come undone like this, fucking yourself on his fingers, before he took you the way he wanted, making you scream his name and beg him to make you cum with his cock.

You felt your orgasm closing in on you, your movements becoming sloppier, eyes rolled back and the fingers in your mouth almost forgotten. Once Seokmin noticed, he grinned, beginning to fuck them inside your mouth himself, a high pitched moan escaping you and making another bit of precum shoot out of Seokmin’s cock.

“Yeah, are you close, baby? Come on, I know you want to cum for me.” He leaned forward, the angle of his fingers changing slightly, hitting you right where you needed him and when his lips began kissing and licking at your neck, you couldn’t help but cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again, milking yourself for all you had.

“Fuck,” he was in a daze, pulling both sets of fingers outside your holes, eyes searching for yours, before closing his lips around the fingers that had just made you cum so beautifully. You whimpered, pussy throbbing at the sight of him licking your arousal from his own digits.

“Seokmin…,” you cried out and he pulled his fingers back, instead shooting forward now to kiss you again. You could taste yourself on his lips, hands now back around his neck, eyes closed shut as he kissed you with delicious desperation.

“Fuck me on the windowsill, Seok, please.”

He parted from you only for a second, before nodding and kissing you again, getting up with your legs wrapped around him, finally placing you on the narrow sill, hands gripping your shorts and panties and pulling them off your legs. You watched as he opened his own jeans next, letting them fall to the floor before finally revealing what you had only imagined so far. You couldn’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight of his big cock, all red at the tip and veiny, thick and a little bent to the left. Oh, how much you wanted him to ruin you.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby,” he purred now, arms back around your body, lips closing around yours again. Every inch of you was on fire, your hands immediately finding his cock, one grabbing his balls, while the other was around his girth, moving up to let your thumb slide over his slit. He twitched in your hand, a beautiful moan coming out his mouth that had you shivering. Spreading your legs further, you brought his leaking cock to your lips, letting the tip circle your clit for a bit, both of you moaning into the other's mouth, before finally lining him up with your sopping core.

“Please, fuck me, I need you so bad,” your voice was muffled against his lips and he nodded, replacing your hand with his to push inside you, the stretch having your nails dig into his shoulders, whimpers escaping your pink lips as he lowered himself into you until he bottomed out, his forehead now pressing against yours.

“You feel so good, so perfect around me, baby,” he kissed you softly, hands sliding over your sides up to your tits, and once he began squeezing them again, his lips finding yours, he began thrusting, first deep and hard, before he quickened, your legs pulling him even closer. He was perfect. The way he held you, the way his thumb was on your nipple, lips now sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, cock fucking you deep and hard and quick, leaving no room for complaints. You didn’t know how to ever stop moaning his name, how to be quiet, how to not have your body already signal another climax.

“A-am close,” you whined and Seokmin nodded, head now in between your neck and shoulder, kissing every inch of your skin. Nothing had ever felt this good, no sex with anyone had ever made him feel as if he was going to cum within seconds, while also wanting it to never end. He sped up once more, hands back on your face as he wanted to cum with your tongue inside his mouth, with your lips claimed as his. You tried to match his pace, desperate and breathy moans filling the air that already smelled like nothing but sex. There was nothing you could do to prevent the orgasm rushing over you, your walls clenching around his cock over and over again, his movements getting sloppier with every second, your and his salivas mixing, running over both your chins when he finally sucked your tongue into his mouth as he came, hot white cum spreading in your pussy that now milked him for all he had, every little drop as precious as the other.

“Fuck, oh my god,” Seokmin breathed into your mouth, his hands caressing your hair as he kissed your neck, both of you slowly getting down from your highs. You two stayed like this for a while. Him, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your chin and finally your lips. It suddenly feels like everything has fallen into place perfectly, like this is what should have happened the first time he ever stepped into place, maybe even when you first laid eyes on him three years ago. He stays inside you, your combined releases only slowly dripping out of you. How could he make you feel this precious? This fragile in the best way?

“Y/N…”, he then whispers after a while, his hands next to you on the sill, his eyes so soft and yet full of guilt. For a second you think he regrets having done this but then you hear his next words.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away. I never should have done that. I was scared of my own feelings and of taking advantage of you, and I get now that I should have just talked to you about this instead of acting like I was protecting you when in reality I was just protecting myself,” he caressed your face, a stray lock of hair finds it’s way behind your ear by his finger.

“I get it. And I’m sorry too, for, you know, completely shutting you out.” You smile weakly and Seokmin chuckles, kissing your cheek again.

“I would have done the same. So, you forgive me?”

“Isn’t you coming inside me enough reason to believe I have?” You tease him with a slight grin and he turns red, looking down at him still buried inside your warmth.

“Thank you. For forgiving me,” he looks up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and also for letting me cum inside you.”

You start laughing, pushing him away slightly by the shoulder and your heart seems to jump out of your chest when he kisses you again. You were sure that you’ll never get tired of doing this.

“So, if i want you to get turned on I’ll just need to post more gym pics?” Seokmin’s arm was around you, both of you freshly out of the shower seated on the couch. You scoffed, but felt your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up,” you couldn’t help but smile though, the fact he was so close to you, holding you. It was all too much but in the best way possible. You never wanted to let this man go again.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered”, he giggled now, and god, had you ever heard a more adorable sound? You doubted it. Just when you were about to respond (mainly to tell him to shut up again), you heard your phone ring. Looking over Seokmin’s lap, you saw your phone where you’d left it. He followed your gaze and grabbed your phone for you, a knowing smile on his lips.

“If we were to unlock this now, what would we find, hm?”

Ignoring him, you finally picked up. It was Seungkwan.

“Hi traitor,” you said, eyebrows raised. Seungkwan scoffed on the other side.

“Oh please, you can’t tell me y’all didn’t fuck.”

Seokmin, who was very obnoxiously leaning in closer to hear the conversation, giggled again, his cheeks turning rosy. You rolled your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I appreciate you spilling my kinks to people you barely know.”

“You know you do kind of love me for it though. So, you two together now?” You froze in place, while your eyes moved very slowly to look at Seokmin. What you saw made your stomach turn and twist and tumble and millions of butterflies suddenly started dancing Gangnam Style. His eyes were so fond, his features soft, the rose on his cheeks now accented by his bright perfect smile. When he nodded, his hand coming to caress your head, you couldn’t help but smile the brightest you ever had.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, we are.”

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lovelyverosika · 7 months

Text

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

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cherryredcheol · 5 months

Text

just...suck?

tldr: you need him to what? mentions: dad!jeonghan, breastfeeding, nipple sucking (but not sexy(?)), reader can breastfeed but no gendered terms used. a/n: i have never been pregnant/breastfed. sorry if this is inaccurate. i have no idea where this came from this is not smut but DNI if you're under 18

“okay lovie, she’s down for a nap. which means we have about an hour before she wakes up again. what do you want to do? need a shower? want to watch tv? hungry?” jeonghan spoke softly, coming down the stairs into the living room, not looking up at you as he fiddled with the baby monitor in his hands.

hana was just about 3 months old and although jeonghan had done everything he could to help, you were still your baby’s main source of nutrition and you were tired. and to top it all off you were pretty sure you had a clogged milk duct and it hurt.

jeonghan looked up from the monitor when you didn’t answer and rushed to your side when he saw the tears in your eyes. “lovie, what’s going on? are you okay? what can i do?” he settled gently next to you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

“hannie,” your words were choked, voice thick with emotion, “i need you to do me a favor.”

jeonghan nodded, “anything, lovie. name it and i’ll make it happen.” he waited for you to collect your thoughts, rubbing your back softly.

you sat up a few moments later, wiping at your eyes to catch the couple tears that fell, and let out a big sigh, “it’s quite possibly the least sexy thing ever, so please don’t laugh. i really need you.”

“lovie, anything you need, i’m here for.” he was looking at you so softly, all the love in the world held in his eyes.

your face flushed before you even got the first word out, but you were brave and asked with your whole chest, “i have a clogged milk duct and it fucking hurts. can you please try to suck the clog out?”

if your chest didn’t feel like it was being stabbed every time you took a breath, you would’ve laughed at the look on jeonghan’s face.

“um, yeah. sure.” jeonghan shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. he’s not sure what he was expecting your favor to be but this certainly wasn’t it. he gestured vaguely to your chest, “you want me to just…suck?” he could feel the heat crawling up his neck.

he’s not sure why he was so embarrassed. he’s done worse things to you than suck your nipple. hell, that was barely foreplay. but this was the first time since hana had been born that the two of you would have any kind of intimate touch beyond kisses. suddenly he felt like that young man he was when you two first met. back in his first apartment, his small room with beige walls that he paid way too much in rent for.

you were a vision on his bed. usually silver-tongued, jeonghan was rendered speechless at the sight of you topless. he couldn’t believe his luck. he likes you so much. you get all his jokes and make even better ones, you’re so smart, and not to mention pretty. he’s pretty sure you were straight out of his dreams and here you were on his bed, in his room. his roommates had actually listened and made themselves scarce this evening so he could be alone with you. you’d only been on a few dates but he knew he was in it for the long haul with you. he could just tell.

his eyes flashed back up to yours, shy smile on his face, “can i just…suck?”

you were positively pink, also shy suddenly, “if you don’t want to, it’s okay. i read online it’ll probably go away on its own.”

jeonghan took a deep breath and met your embarrassed eyes, “i’ll do anything for you, lovie.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #svt #svt x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan

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anthonys237thfreckle · 2 months

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hey lovely!

i saw you write for lots of anthony’s characters. cld i request a javi one? (he’s one of my favs now)

maybe like in headcanon format? and the prompt would be when reader (f) is dating him for a bit and he wakes up from a nightmare that he loses her, since they both went through that EF5 storm w kate and the others.

hope you’re doing okay!!!!!

hey love!! thanks for the request!!

yes, i’m doing okay. thanks for asking <3 and ur req was so cute i js had to! sorry it took me a while :P here it is xx

Night Terrors - Javier ‘Javi’ Rivera x F! reader

prompt: Javi woke up in a cold sweat, afraid he lost you.

tw: sleep terrors, mentions of injury, panic attacks, NOT PROOFREAD!!

slight angst to fluff!

🌪️ - Your eyes blinked the film of sleep away when you heard Javi start to hyperventilate. Turning to look at him, furrowing your brows in confusion and squinting to try and fight sleep, you put a hand on his bare shoulder.

🌪️ - The heat in Tornado Alley was brutal these days, so Javi was sweaty from panic, and the weather and humidity. He trembled like the glass windows on stormy days, breathing heavy like when he’d recover from the adrenaline of chasing storms.

🌪️- “Hey, Javi- shh” you rubbed his shoulder, moving to kiss his nose bridge. “Hey, calm down. Deep breaths” 🌪️- He blinked his eyes open, clinging to your shirt (which you stole from him), sniffling and slowing his breathing. You wiped his tears, kissed them away from his cheek, then pulled him in so his face was resting in your cleavage - he wasn’t usually the little spoon, but no way in hell he was complaining.

🌪️- “You’re okay, baby” you whispered, running a hand through his curls “I’m right here” you hugged him tighter.

🌪️- “I-I-” he stuttered, taking a shuddering breath “I- I thought- I thought I-I lo-lost you” he shuddered “You- you had this- this huge gash- and the storm- it-” 🌪️- “shhhh….” you silenced him “listen…” you said, hand still moving through his hair “listen to the wind outside” 🌪️- It was quiet except for the rustle of the tree outside your window, and the night was calm. Crickets and owls sang their lonely song to the moon. 🌪️- “There’s no storm, I’m safe, you’re safe. It was just a dream, angel” you reassured, wide awake by now, pressing occasional kisses to his freckled forehead. 🌪️- Javi nodded, breathing in your scent, squeezing you tighter, to prove you were there. There with him, safe, unscathed.

🌪️- “Want some hot chocolate?” you asked out of nowhere after a moment of silence “I’ll add some cinnamon. I know you like it” you said softly, a smile on your face

🌪️- Javi smiled and chuckled breathlessly. “How could I say no to you, babygirl?..”

AAAAAAAAA THAT WAS MY FIRST FIC FOR JAVI I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!!

lmk if you want to be added to my taglist!!!

- scarlet xx

#foryou #fyp #tumblr fyp #anthony ramos #twisters #twisters 2024 #anthony fucking ramos #twistersmovie #javier rivera #javier rivera x reader #javi rivera #xreaderfics #headcanons

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Note

Gojo for suprise fic please

Touching Gojo's frog by accident (18+)

“Urgh, my fucking head”, you grunt under your breath, mind still trying to process the fact that you’re awake.

What happened? Where are you?

“You look more like a zombie than a human.”

That irritating voice paired with the cheekiest tone you’ve ever heard. No, impossible. Why on earth would he be here?

“Oh god, not you…”

“It’s totally me. Live and in color, sweetest (y/n).”

You force yourself to open your eyes, to wake up from this bad dream. There is no way in hell you were this drunk. No, not even 10 shots of tequila could make you forget about the fact that Satoru Gojo is a jerk. He’s the last person on this planet you’d hook up with. Damn, you’d rather sleep on a bench than by his side-

“Good morning sunshine, you laid there passed out quite some time.”

He’s close. Way too close for your liking. So close that your sight gets ingulfed by his bright blue orbs.

You don’t know what has gotten into you, but your hand pushes against him, desperately tries to fight him away from you. You can’t even sit up straight, still hungover from last night as it seems. Fuck, you fall over, directly onto him.

Oh god. Directly onto Satoru Gojo.

“Well, this just scrambled my eggs – fuck. Could you…remove your hand?”

What is this soft and warm feeling against your flat palm? It almost feels therapeutic, soft like a naked cat. You give this thing a little squeeze, like a stress ball that keeps you from kicking Gojo in his nuts.

“If you don’t remove your hand I’ll lose it.”

You can’t ignore his presence any longer, eyes darting up at him in confusion. Why the hell are his cheeks so red all of the sudden, eyes rolling right into his skull? Did he see a ghost, realized what a jerk he is?

“(y/n), get your hand away from my dick!”

You blink.

One time.

Two times.

Your hand…his dick? Oh, you’d rather die than touching his wiener, would rather never ever in your life-

Out of instinct, your eyes dart downwards. To your hand, resting against his bare skin.

His bare wiener, to be exact.

“OH MY GOD”, you shriek, stumbling off the bed so quickly that you almost break your neck.

Fuck, you can’t catch your breath, wiping your hands over and over against his rug. You just touched him there. With your own bare hands.

“Chop off my hands, pour acid on me!”, you cry out.

“Huh, you should be glad you get to touch me. AND STOP WIPING YOUR HANDS!”

“Oh god, how am I supposed to forget this?”

“I’ll tell everyone you touched my balls-“

“YOU WILL FUCKING NOT GOJO.”

524 notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 11 months

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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.2 K Warnings: None Prompt: It's all about planning. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 18: Friends will be friends

Somehow, the pranks you'd pulled with Remus had ended up all over the school, hidden by students in the most inconspicuous places so that distracted and unsuspecting kids would stumble upon them and get a good jumpscare. Steven SkeIIignton, as he’d gotten baptised by Marlene who’d gotten a hellscare later on the Halloween party, was still in the closet, and had already gotten at least 20 kids to jump out of their skin in the past week.. .

As a matter of fact, it was often the gophers who would nonchalantly ask their friends to retrieve an item from the wardrobe or hand them a sweater they claimed to have left inside, all in the hopes of giving them a good stratle. And the cycle would just repeat itself. At some point, people even started being wary when asked for small favours like that. It was hilarious.

Meanwhile, James was determined on making his date with Lily absolutely perfect. He did not want to rush it, and so he had you, Sirius, Remus and Peter wake up even earlier so that you’d talk about possible plans. It must have been like 4:30 in the morning when you heard a knock on your door the first time. You hadn’t been sleeping well at all, so you rushed to see who the hell would be knocking on the door only to find James’ head poking out from the invisibility cloak.

“Hurry, you’ve gotta come with me,” he whispered.

“I’m in pyjamas?” You argued, and you really had only a pair of shorts and a light shirt, your covers had a warming spell, so you didn’t need much warm clothes, even with how chill the November night had already gotten in Scotland.

“Doesn't matter, I’ll tell Sirius to lend you something if you get too cold. Now come, it’s urgent!”

You rolled your eyes, picking your wand up and did what James asked since it sounded important. Once you stepped outside he quickly wrapped the cloak around the two of you, holding it carefully above your head, you were huddled beside him as he guided you up a couple of stairs. Since you were still a bit sleepy, you didn’t quite register he was taking you back to their room until you saw their door “James, an emergency?!? What happened?” you asked genuinely worried now.

“I’ll tell you once we’re in the room, we don’t want anyone to see us,” he said as he opened the door and brought the two of you inside. He took off the cloak and you took a couple of steps from him, without James’ body heat irradiating onto you, the sudden drop in temperature made you wince.

“Do you not have a heater in this room?” you complained.

He just shrugged and then clapped his hands loudly “All right boys, wakey, wakey!” he shouted, before using his wand to turn on several lights around the room, you squinted as he did since your eyes were not used to so much brightness.

Peter was the first one to startle awake, looking at you and James very confused, “(Y/N)?”

“Get your own girlfriend and stop dreaming about mine Wormtail!” Sirius, who had the covers on top of his head to avoid the light, said irritated.

“I wasn’t-“ The boy started.

“–She’s here,” Remus said, sitting up on his bed, and rubbing his eyes. He was wearing a soft brown plaid pyjama shirt, and didn’t have all his buttons done, he kinda looked like the softer version of his sexy pirate outfit from the party. But like, really soft and cuddly.

“Who’s here?” He asked, finally kicking the covers off his head, and hollymotherofmerlin, that’s what he looks like just waking up? You wondered as you tried not to shamelessly stare at the way his hair was beautifully sprawled on the bed. “Stashine? What are you doing here?”

You turned to James, “Yeah Prongs, what am I doing here?” You asked, arms crossed over your chest, mostly because of the cold.

“I need your help.”

“For what?” Asked Peter with a frown. You shot him an annoyed look. “Didn’t mean it like that…” he added. You were all too sleepy for decency.

James went and sat on top of the rug in between the beds, and motioned for you to sit next to him. “Come on, I didn’t wake her for you to stay in bed all day, hurry up!” he urged the rest. Peter stood from his bed, he wore a long sleeve white tee and a pair of red plaid pants, and he sat right in front of the two of you. Remus stood up and sat next to James, almost across from you. He had matching pants and a pair of fuzzy socks on. Sirius unsurprisingly was the last one, he lazily brushed his hair with his fingers before he stood up, he had a black queen shirt and his pants had electric guitars stamped all over them. You wonder where he’d gotten those muggle clothes when James spoke again, “Ok kids, we need to plan this together.”

“A prank?” Remus asked.

“You’re bringing her in?” Asked a leery Peter.

“She’d be of great help actually,” chimed Remus, a little defensively.

“She really would! Didn’t I tell you about the libra-“ he started.

“-It’s not a prank you wankers!” James said, interrupting the little fight Sirius and Peter might just start “All though I do think you’d be useful in a prank,” he said turning to you and thinking of the Magical Theory project you’d been working on.

“Jee, Thanks Prongs!” you responded, almost sarcastically, “but if it’s not a prank, then… What's the emergency?”

“There is no emergency, I said it was urgent.”

“James, mate, you either tell us what the hell is going on in your head or I’ll go back to bed,” Sirius threatened “It’s like 5 am.”

“4:30 actually,” you corrected him.

“4:30!? PROOONGS!” Peter whined.

“It’s about Lily!”

“You brought me here for Lily?” You asked with a frown.

“You woke us up because of your crush?!” Remus complained, he was about to snap at James and go back to his bed. As much as he loved his friend, he needed his sleep. He did not want to be snappy all day because of a lack of it.

“It’ll be just a moment, then you can go back to sleep.”

“I thought you were flying today,” Remus said and turned to you, you had your arms wrapped around your legs, and you were rubbing them every now and then, “You cold luv?” He asked. You nodded.

“I meant you and Peter,” he responded “These two will come flying earlier today anyway, the game’s just around the corner, I have to make sure they’re in top shape.”

Remus extended his hand and pulled a sweater from the chest at the end of his bed, before throwing it at you. “Thanks Rem,” you said, pulling the sweater over your head, it was so big you could even cover your legs with it, which you did. And fuck, she looks adorable, Remus thought before mentally slapping himself for it.

Sirius then used his wand to levitate his cover above your head, letting it gently fall over your head, “It’s pretty cold in here, right Starshine?” he asked softly. Sirius could sometimes be so gentle it startled you, but you nodded, turning a little red as you wrapped yourself around the covers. Remus’ sweater wasn’t too warm, but it was soft, and it smelled like chocolate and old books, exactly like the boy, which you had always considered a very pleasant smell, nice, it’s nice, your mind whispered. Meanwhile, Sirius’ cover was still warm since it was the one he had been using earlier, it did not feel like it had any charms on it, which meant it was all just Sirius’ body heat, you wondered how nice it’d be to sleep beside him as you snuggled yourself deeper into the clothes they had borrowed you, relishing on the soft combination of scents.

“Can we focus?” James pressed.

“You haven’t told us why we’re here, James,” You reminded him.

“It’s about the date,” you nodded, prompting him to continue, but it was a little hard to take you seriously wrapped in so many covers like that. “I want it to be the best date of her life.”

“Take her to Hogsmeade,” Peter proposed.

“Take her flying,” Sirius offered, “it always works with girls.”

You threw him a surprised look “Does it?”

“Worked with you, didn’t it?” He told you with the sweetest little face he could pull off.

“You’re such an idiot,” you said as you went for a playful hit on his shoulder, but he stopped your hand and pulled it to his lips instead, kissing it softly.

“Maybe, but you love me anyway,” he responded cockily, leaning his cheek on your hand.

“How about a date in the Room of Requirements?” Remus said loudly, trying not to sound bitter as he interrupted the two of you.

You were still staring into Sirius’s eyes when he spoke but turned to Remus when what he said piqued your interest “The what?”

“The Room of Requirements. It’s this room that sometimes shows up, only when you really need it, and it basically becomes whatever you need it to be. I stumbled into it when I was looking for my homework once, and it was this massive lost objects storage room,” he explained.

“But then he went with me and it turned into a room with a huge cauldron on the inside, basically enough space for us to brew the potion we wanted to brew for a prank. That’s how we discovered it was magical,” James explained.

“That sounds incredible! But… What if it turns into something that scares Lily away?”

“Like what?” James asked, confused.

“Well… I don’t know what you require Prongs, but if by bad luck you think the wrong thing and a freaking bedroom shows up, Lily will probably never talk to you again.”

All the boys laughed at that, even Peter, who seemed to be a lot more at ease now “She just called you horny mate,” he told him in between chuckles.

James had just gone red, which caused everyone to laugh even more “That rules out the Room of Requirements,” Remus said with a playful smile.

“But we should go, tho, seems like a cool place.”

“Not scared of what may show up, Starshine?” Sirius teased, leaning onto you.

“Why? Are you?” you teased back.

James cleared his throat, “Any other ideas?” he asked, looking straight at you “Where would you take Lily on a date?”

You thought about it for a second, “To a picnic by the lake,” you said simply “I’ve seen Lily sketch a few things on a little notebook that she carries around with her all the time.”

“It’s her journal,” James clarified.

“How do you…?”

“He tried to steal it once,” Remus said casually.

“Dude, that’s awful.”

“I was 13! I genuinely thought it’d be a great idea,” he clarified “Besides it was Sirius’ idea.”

“I said it as a JOKE!” The other said, it seemed like a small little quarrel was about to start regarding that particular incident, which just made you look at the two of them, diverted.

“The journal…” Remus said to you, asking you to finish your earlier thought.

“Right, so, she likes drawing,” James stopped staring at Sirius and turned his attention back at you “I’d get some art supplies or something, and take her to a nice place by the lake so we could draw something together, take some of her favourite treats from the kitchens, and maybe some soft music too, she likes ABBA a lot. Then I’d go for a walk with her, while our paintings dry, and just be super nice and listen to her talk. She knows so much, it’s always fun to hear whatever she has to say, so it’d be fun for the two of us.”

“You’re lucky she’s not your love rival Prongs, she’d definitely sway me with a date like that,” Remus teased, as if you needed to take him on a date to sway him.

“You draw?” you asked him, he shook his head “Sirius does tho.”

You turned to your boyfriend, amazed “I’ve never seen you draw.”

“He only draws when he’s alone, I discovered by accident,” Remus answered instead.

“You should show me one day,” you told Sirius with a soft smile.

“Good luck with that,” Remus responded, “he almost beat me once for taking his sketchbook from his hands.”

“Wait, really?” You asked the taller boy.

“If we’re done with date planning, can I go back to bed?” Peter asked.

James took a look at his watch, and nodded “Sure, we’ll meet tomorrow at the same time for the details,” he said.

“Prongs, 4:30? Two days in a row? for real?!” Remus asked, a little annoyed.

“Yeah, we could just do it after classes or something.” You offered.

“Yeah, as if sneaking you into our room in the middle of the night wasn’t hard enough,” James answered.

“I could just… walk in?” you said with a little frown.

“Nope, too suspicious, Lily will notice, she’s clever like that.”

“I could just tell her you’re helping me get some quality time with my boyfriend.” You said, pointing at Sirius “You literally sleep in the same room, no one will think anything of it.”

“Except that you’re shagging Sirius,” Peter said casually.

“It’s her boyfriend though, and they won’t shag with the rest of us here,” Remus said logically.

“Who knows?” Peter said with a shrug “Maybe they’re into that kind of stuff, wouldn’t be the first poly wizards in the history of the world.”

“Poly what-?!” You asked confused.

“-Shut up guys! That’s… It’s not entirely a bad idea…”

“Poly isn’t a bad idea?” Peter asked, just to fuck with James.

“What? No, not that Wormtail, shut up! The other thing…” He turned to you, “We bring you here with the excuse that you’re gonna see Sirius, and then we plan the date,” James said.

“You don’t mind that luv?” Remus asked with a little frown, always so considerate.

“‘Course she doesn’t, we’re dating,” Sirius said matter-of-factly as he placed his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer to him.

“Sirius.” Remus said sternly “She’s a girl, it’s not the same for them, there’s double standards.”

“Why don’t we meet in the Room of Requirements instead?” you suggested, “No one finds out, no one thinks we’re shagging or whatever, and no one suspects we’re planning James’ date either?”

“Gosh, you’re so clever, aren’t you Starshine?” Sirius said as he brought you closer and placed a kiss on your head, or at least over the covers you had around it.

“Sounds good enough for me,” James said with a smile.

“Fantastic, I’m going back to bed,” Remus said as he stood up and walked straight into his bed, gently laying down and covering his face with a pillow. Peter followed suit, although he just threw himself on the bed head down. Sirius only laid his head on top of yours, since you had yours on his shoulder already.

“We’re going flying now, aren’t we?” He asked with a sigh.

“We are indeed,” James said animatedly, a smile playing on his face, he was the biggest morning person you’d ever met, you definitely couldn’t relate, even if you loved flying as much as he did, mornings were just tough on you. From what you were looking at, Sirius was the same, in fact, James was the odd one out of the entire room.

“I should go change,” You said, as you motioned to get up.

“You can’t!” James said, moving his hands in the air, panicked, “Lily will ask why you weren’t in the room, she might be awake by now.”

He wasn’t wrong, Lily might be awake by now, she sometimes woke up earlier to add final touches to her homework or do some of the readings you were left by teachers “But I can’t go flying with shorts and a shirt, I’ll freeze!”

“Keep my sweater,” Remus mumbled, still from under his pillow.

“Problem solved,” James said with a smile.

“The shorts, James.”

“You could just stay and cuddle with me,” Sirius offered with a shrug “James can go flying by himself. Promise my bed is warm and we could–”

“–No way! Quidditch match is in a week, you can’t skip flying now!”

Sirius took a deep breath and groaned, patting you lightly on the back so you’d stop leaning on him as he moved to his own chest, rummaging through it and picking up a pair of pants that didn’t fit anymore “You think this would fit?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows, and then tilt your head lightly, analysing the situation “It just might,” You said taking it from his hands and putting it against your body.

“Sweet, go change then,” James said as he pretty much pushed you into the bathroom, he was damn lucky you’d put on a pair of trainers when he asked you to come without a warning of his plan.

You sighed once you were inside their bathroom. You couldn’t help but look around a little as you put on Sirius’ pants. Their bathroom was almost a mirror to yours, it had a small cupboard next to the sink with a lot of potions, aftershave and even some Sleekeasy’s, you wondered who was the one that used it, since clearly, it wasn’t Potter, even if his dad had invented it. Probably Peter, you thought, he always has a rather put-together look going on. When you were done you realised the pants fit well enough, all thought they were a little loose on the waist. You put your trainers back on and threw some water at your face and hair, to get it to somehow look decent, it’d gotten even messier since you’d placed Sirius soft covers over it.

When you walked out of the Bathroom James was sitting on his bed while putting on a pair of shoes while Sirius was putting on his thick quidditch sweater. “Got a hair tie?” You asked him.

He turned to you and nodded “Come,” he said softly as he patted his bed. You did as he rummaged through his side table “Want me to tie it for you?”

You almost gave him a questioning look but shrugged in the end, turning around so he could do his thing. He was soft, a lot softer than you remember him being in the Great Hall a couple of months back, but you weren’t moving as much this time either. And he also had a brush this time, he gently brushed your strands a couple of times before he started to softly pull your hair back. You visibly relaxed as he was running his fingers through your scalp, allowing him to make your ponytail however he wanted. When he was done he leaned closer and pressed a cheeky kiss on your neck.

“Done luv,” he said as he buried his head deeper into your neck, enjoying the way you smelled today.

“Great, let’s go!” James said, completely oblivious to how much Sirius was enjoying himself. The boy gave him an annoyed look as he separated from your neck, but James wasn’t even phased. He was used to Sirius’ temperament, and he also knew he loved flying with you in the mornings.

The three of you walked down to the courtyard and James started giving you exercises to warm up. After that, he gave you a couple of instructions and had you speed back and forth from tower to tower. He was flying beside you as you sped through the buildings and avoided the obstacles that came on the way.

He also had you practise resistance, “The match might be long, we need you to pay attention to everything that’s going on and not to lose concentration because of tiredness.” he told you, he had you hold yourself in the air by grabbing onto the broom with your hands and also practise the same trick you’d done on the trials, over and over again, until your arms were trembling. All the while he had Sirius beat the quaffle back and forth, with the help of a spell that had it bounce back at his face every time he shot it away.

“Prooongs, I’m tired,” He complained, as he flew to the side so the quaffle wouldn’t hit his face “Aren’t you Starshine?”

“Yeah,” you sighed as you let yourself fall on your broom, allowing your head to rest on the handle as you laid flat on it “And we should probably,” you yawned “start going back, we have class in 30 minutes, I still have to put my uniform on.”

“Watch out!” You heard James scream as Sirius’ bludger rapidly sped towards you, you raised back into a sitting position and flew downwards as you grabbed onto the ball with both hands, trying to slowly reduce its speed.

“The chest.” You struggled to say as the quaffle fought its way out of your grasp, Sirius flew straight down and opened the place where you kept all of the quidditch stuff, you flew right after him and forced the bludger into its spot while the grey-eyed boy wrapped the protection chains over it. Once the bludger was secure, you let yourself fall on the ground, exhausted.

James rushed down when he realised the commotion his little practice had caused, it was far away from the worst thing that had happened on morning flights, especially since you had joined them; you and Sirius would constantly do stupid shit that could get you three kiIled, especially because James had somewhat of a lack of self-control, and all that Gryffindor bravado mixed with the endorphins of flying, almost always had him joining your little shenanigans “You ok?” he asked “please tell me you’re not hurt anywhere,” he said as he reached closer to you and started inspecting your hands “we can’t have out star keeper injured just before the ga–“

“–James!” you reprimanded. “Quidditch?! Really?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that!” he told you, a small regretful frown on his face.

You scoffed playfully, “I sometimes forget James’ priorities consist of Lily Evans and Quidditch, exclusively,” you joked, though you knew it was a lie, technically James’ priorities consisted of: his friends, getting Lily Evans to like him back and Quidditch, in that order. Unless a quidditch game was around the corner in which case, number three became priority #1.

“‘M sorry luv. Are you ok? Not because of quidditch this time.”

You laughed but nodded “Yeah, ‘m good. I just… want to lay here for a bit.”

Sirius threw himself next to you, “We’ve got class.”

“I know,” you answered, “I’m just… really freaking tired today, didn’t sleep well either.”

“‘Cause of Prongs?” he asked, and you felt him reach for your hand, tracing small patterns with his finger over your palm.

You shook your head, “Not that… I’ve got those nightmares again.”

He turned to you, a sympathetic look on his face “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” You nodded, not sure how much Sirius would be able to do against your nightmare. But leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, but he was faster, and he moved to give you a kiss on the lips “Been wanting to do that since I saw you standing in my room,” he said “That and other things.”

“Ugh, get a room! I swear, We were better off before you two started dating,” James complained as he started gathering up his things.

“Shut it Prongs, you’re just jealous,” Sirius said before giving you another kiss.

“20 minutes to get to class.” James reminded you then. Sirius groaned, but finally stood up, extending a hand to pull you as well. You took it gladly and stood next to them, as you levitated the chest towards the storage room under the bleachers.

“How about I go change and bring your cloaks while you gather some food for me? We can meet just outside the great hall?”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” James told you as he pulled a pair of keys outside of his pocket, and threw them at you, you caught them with ease “Mine is hanged next to my bed.”

“Mine’s on my dresser,” Sirius added.

“Sweet, I’ll hurry up and meet you in a bit, deal?” You said, before taking off.

“What about my goodbye kiss, Starshine?” Sirius shouted.

“I’ll give you a hello kiss when we see each other again instead Puppy,” you said casually, throwing a wink his way.

Once you arrived at your bedroom, you realised everyone was gone. Which made sense, the girls should have gone down for breakfast several minutes ago, it was you who was lagging behind. You quickly took off the clothes the boys had given you and put your uniform on, taking Remus’ sweater along with you when you walked towards the boys’ room. You used James’ key to open the door and went straight to James’ bed, taking his cloak in a swift motion before realising Remus was still in his bed.

He was soundly asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly, looking ever so peaceful. You stared at him for a minute, not realising you were staring until he frowned and moved a little in his sleep. Peter had clearly left a while ago, his bed a total mess, since he had rushed down to get a good fill of breakfast. You approached the boy “Hey Rem!” you whispered, as not to startle him, but he didn’t budge, which prompted you to move closer to him and gently place your hand over his shoulder, shaking it just slightly “Remus, class is about to start.”

Remus, still half asleep, and thinking you were Sirius, grabbed your arm and threw you onto the bed next to him, placing his forearm over your chest to hold you down in a move that you could only describe as a martial arts movement you’d seen in comics at some point.

You gasped, it all happened too fast “Ooofff... if you didn’t want to wake up, you could’ve just told me…” you joked as you stared right into his eyes, he was hovering over you, pressing you into the bed a little harder than what would be comfortable.

“Dollface?” He asked confused, quickly getting off you “I’m sorry, I thought you were Sirius.”

Dollface? That’s a new nickname, you thought. “Do you normally push Sirius onto your bed like that?” you asked with eyebrows raised as you sat back on the bed to look at him better.

“It’s an inside joke,” Remus explained “Sirius did it to me once when I tried to wake him up.” He yawned, “Why are you here again?” He asked, a little confused.

“Came to get the boys’ robes,” You said, lifting yourself over him, who was sitting on the other side, to try and find James’ uniform that you’d grabbed previously. Remus held his breath as your hand crossed over his lap casually. Can she hear my heart racing? he wondered. The robe was now pooling on the floor, no longer neatly ironed as it had been, you winced when you noticed the state it was on, and let yourself fall back on Remus’ bed as if it were your own with a sigh “James went a little savage with training today,” you complained “I feel like my arms will fall off.”

Were you being a little dramatic? Probably, still, Remus felt like the only person you could complain to, you didn’t want to appear weak to anybody, let alone James who was way too preoccupied with the game, but with Remus it was different, you genuinely felt like he wouldn’t judge you for being tired, or for not managing to quite keep up with the other boys’ stamina.

“I might have something that could help,” He told you looking through his drawers.

You shook your head quickly, “Nu-uh, last time I took some of your medicine Remus, I ended up so freaking high I kept blabbering about how pretty Lily’s hair was, how nice your hands are, and how thirsty I was for Sirius.”

“You… like my hands?” He asked with a frown, taking a look at them, especially at the scars on them.

“And that wasn’t the only thing I said either,” you responded with a sigh, finally standing up, “We should probably go,” You told him, as you grabbed his sweater from the spot you’d left it next to your bag “Where do you put your dirty clothes?”

“What for?” He asked, turning around “Oh, that?” He approached you and took it in his hands before giving it a whiff “It’s not dirty,” he said before plopping it over his head.

“Didn’t I sweat it?” You asked with a little frown.

“Nah, it smells fine,” he said casually as he walked over to the bathroom, that was a lie, it didn’t just smell fine, it smelled bIoody delightful. He gave it another whiff as he sat on the edge of the tub and then quickly remembered what he was doing. Cursing himself for it and banging the wall, causing a potion bottle to fall on the ground and break into hundreds of tiny little pieces.

“You all right?” he heard you asking from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, fine, fine.” He said as he pulled his wand out and whispered “reparo.”

When he was out of the bathroom, Remus already had his school pants on, he didn’t bother to change his pyjamas nor his sweater before he plopped his robe on top.

“You found Sirius’ robes?” he asked as he approached you, you were rummaging through some of the drawers next to Sirius’ bed.

“He said on the dresser, but he didn’t say where on the dresser,” you complained.

“Bottom left drawer,” Remus replied simply, he was over at his desk, gathering some books and placing them on his bag.

You leaned down to get it and finally found the robe, pulling it out just to have a small sketchbook drop from it. You opened your eyes wide as you picked it up, looking back at Remus “Is this the–“

“–Yeah,” he said.

“You never got to see it, did you?” He shook his head in response. You looked at the small notebook, so tempting. Not only for you, in fact, it was just as tempting for the two. “Imma… Imma put it back…”

“Yeah, great idea,” he said and helped you close the drawer after you put the notebook back in the dresser.

“We’re super late.” He told you.

“Let’s run!” You said with a smile as you approached the door.

“Weren’t you knackered?”

You shrugged “We need to get to class anyway,” you said, nodding your head with a smile, Remus thought it was the most tempting smile he’d ever seen in his life.

“Fine then, let’s run.”

The two of you started running right after, down the stairs, through the common room, out of the portrait and towards the other set of stairs. You slid down some of the stairs’ handles and then continued running. Remus was keeping up with you easily, and he was having lots of fun. He was actually admiring the way your hair flowed behind you when you turned to him “Come on, we gotta hurry!” you said with another one of those diverted smiles that made him want to kiIl himself for liking you so much. When the two of you finally arrived outside of the great hall, Sirius, James and Peter were already there.

“Told you they’d come together,” Peter told Sirius “You woke Moony up, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, leaning down and using your own knees for support as you regained your breath “he sleeps like a log,” you added.

“I wouldn’t say that…” Remus said, also panting a little.

“You ran all the way here?” James asked. You only nodded. “That’s great for strengthening your legs,” he said with a small approving nod. You threw his robe at him “Oi! Careful luv.”

“Stop pestering her about quidditch you plonker,” Remus said, finally standing straight, and handing Sirius his robe, their fingers brushed lightly as he did and he almost flushed. Fucking hell, this needs to stop. He made a mental note to call Alice later, she was really good at helping him forget, or at least distract enough to calm the urges down a little.

“Well then, let’s get going,” Sirius said as he handed you a sandwich wrapped in a napkin.

“You didn’t get anything for Rem?” you asked as you walked alongside them toward the classroom.

“Wormy didn’t tell us you hadn’t eaten until we were outside,” James said apologetically.

“No problem, we can share,” you said, giving it a bite and handing it over to the boy so he could do the same, he seemed rather hesitant “Unless you think sharing food is gross… We could cut it or–“

“No, it’s fine.” He said as he took the sandwich from your hands.

“It’s not like you’ve never exchanged saliva anyway,” Peter shrugged casually.

That had Remus choking on his bite and coughing a couple of times, you took an empty water bottle from your bag and whispered “aguamenti,” before handing it over to him. You then placed your hand over his to drag it closer to your mouth and give the sandwich another bite. Remus had gotten so red at that point you started to worry, maybe he was actually choking on something, he wasn’t. “Remus are you–“

“I’m fine, just, I choked for a second,” he lied. In truth, he’d actually gotten flashbacks to the time you’d both kissed when you randomly grabbed onto his hand and thank Merlin it seemed like he was choking because if he hadn’t he was sure Sirius would punch him in the face for it, and maybe he actually deserved it.

You all got to class a little late that day, Professor Bins had you practise a couple of cleaning spells as a punishment. But the five of you executed them so impeccably, that he ended up giving you house points for it.

Later on that day, you were sitting alongside the girls in the Great Hall during lunch when you heard the owls started to arrive. A few minutes later, a package wrapped in brown kraft paper dropped down right in front of you.

“Is it? it?” Marlene asked.

“I think so,” you nodded, ripping the paper open, only to find your quidditch sweater, along with the rest of the uniforms, you smiled widely when you saw it proudly put it on “It’s stunning.”

Marlene nodded in agreement, she still remembered the day she got her first Quidditch uniform delivered. Sirius was walking towards the table and as you were adjusting the sweater and whistled. You dеadpanned at him as he approached you with a cheeky grin, biting his own lip to avoid making it bigger “It suits you.”

“Thanks Puppy!” you replied, smiling as well. He sat beside you, unnecessarily close, not that either of you minded.

“All of your gear is here?” He asked as he looked through the rest of the items in the bag.

“All the new stuff at least,” you responded. The rest is already in my room, especially the protective stuff; James gave me some from when he was smaller, they’re still in great condition.

“Oh, you’ll take my goggles then.”

“I’ve got some of my own.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “But if you’re wearing James’ clothes, then you should also wear something of mine.”

“Why?”

“Because.” You frowned at his answer.

“For luck,” Peter intervened. “You know what they say, something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue.”

“You can’t wear something blue on a match against Ravenclaw,” Tom intervened, even if he wasn’t a player, he was very passionate about Quidditch, mostly because he was friends with a bunch of players.

“Isn’t that for weddings?” Beth intervened as she placed a piece of bread in her mouth.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s for luck,” Peter repeated.

“It is for weddings,” Lily said then, “It’s a muggle thing. Besides, if she’s wearing some of the old stuff from James, she wouldn’t need anything else. That would be enough for the borrowed thing.”

“Oh, I know! You could wear blue undies!” Tom said suddenly, you threw him a warning look “What?” he said, “Ye lads ’re looking for problems, I’m getting solutions.”

“I’ve got this really old hair broach you could wear.” Beth offered.

“So that’s… Something old from Beth, something borrowed from James, something blue: Tom’s idea for the underwear, and something new,” Marlene said, pointing at the bag filled with new equipment as she said the last bit.

“Brilliant, now she can get married,” said Mary ironically, “Will you really do such a ridiculous thing for luck?” She said, turning to you.

“I, for once, think she’ll look great in blue undies,” said Tom with a shrug. That earned him a kick on the shin from Sirius, “Auch!” he complained “I was just saying.”

“You’ll still wear my goggles right?” He asked, throwing you his puppy eye look.

You sighed but nodded “Sure thing Puppy, I’ll wear your goggles.”

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A/N: I had the absolute worst time trying to post this episode and I kid you not I almost cried out of distress. But it's finally working! Thanks to many tests and also to our lord savior ChatGPT who helped me find the pesky/problematic words. Hope you enjoyed the cute Remus moments, much love!

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mediumgayitalian · 7 months

Text

Waking up to music screeching in the inside of his head a half-hour before sunrise every single day is, frankly, hell. Especially when he has the day off. That’s the worst.

But there is, on those rare days off, one benefit — so good it might, although Will shall never in a million years admit it, make the whole ordeal worth it.

On morning shift days, he spends the first ten minutes after he wakes up with his face down into his pillow, praying for the sun to hit the Earth. His prayers have yet to be answered. He spends the next ten minutes sitting, bleary-eyed, at the edge of his bed, waiting for his brain to boot-up and imagining his neurons are making little dial-up internet noises to amuse himself. The final ten minutes before sunrise he spends sprinting silently around the cabin, trying to brush his teeth and put his shorts on at the same time and generally failing at being a person.

Mornings are not fun.

But on his days off, he can afford to be slower. He can’t go back to sleep, true, but he can take the time to let his brain catch up with the rest of him, to breathe, to actually, genuinely wake up, not just be forced to be awake. And then as the sun rises, golden rays bleeding through the window, he bears witness to the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

Nico is gorgeous, swathed in sunlight.

Some might say Will is biased. But Will, these same people might forget, is the son of the god of truth, the god of beauty. He sees these things in the world as easily as some mighty see colour — he can see the Nico is beautiful, and he can see that this is true.

He always is beautiful. Even when he was halfway to dying and twisted in rage in sorrow, he was beautiful. Aside from high cheekbones and a devilish smile and fine, gorgeous hair, he stands in divinity. There is something wholly powerful in the set of his shoulders, the rigidness of his spine; the same kind of beauty in a staggered mountain, in a gnarled tree. A sturdiness, a timelessness, an I have been tested, I have been challenged, I have been beaten; still, I am here. Gracefully, I am here.

Now, Will watches, back to the headboard, as the first few lines of yellow-golden sun filter through the open window above Nico’s bed. They climb slowly, started at his sheet-covered feet, travelling in time up the curve of his cast, stuttering at each fold in the linen, to the crest of his hip. By the time the sunlight crawls over the ridge of the end of the sheet, in bleeds through the window in full, bathing his bare torso in light: his scars, curving like sparkling rivers, his freckles and moles, flicking like dappled light through leafy branches. A forest floor of beauty, in the twisting roots of muscles under his skin, rock-dark bruises over the square of his scapula, the valleys and hills of his ribs. Thousands of miles in which Will loses himself, following the path of the light.

He stirs, slightly, at the brush of his lips against the blurred line of daylight and shadow, tickling the line of his shoulders.

“W’ll?”

“Go back to sleep,” Will murmurs, breathing the words into sleep-warmed skin, raised with goose-flesh.

Nico hums. A small smile tugs the pink curves of his lips, making the corner of his eyes crinkle, the fan of his lashes flutter. Will is awestruck.

“‘Kay.”

He’s out again in seconds, sighing as he settles back against the pillows. His hand, acting out his dreams, drags across the mattress until it spans the curve of Will’s thigh and stills, gripping loosely. Will wraps his own fingers around it and squeezes.

“I love you,” he says softly. He holds his breath, waiting for Nico to stir again, and sighs in relief when he doesn’t. “It scares me.”

A breath of air blows a strand of Nico’s hair across his forehead, almost copper in the early morning sun. Will brushes it easily out of his face, lingering as he tucks it behind his ear.

“I’ll tell you,” he promises, risking another, softer, kiss to his lips. Barely a murmur of touch. “Soon. Sleep well, darlin’.”

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mooodyblue · 2 months

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Hiii could you please do austin having a nightmare that causes them to regress and they're to scared to wake the reader up, so they just cry till we do wake up and comfort them.

Also, I love ur fics so much!! They're amazing

wc: 679

pairing: little!austin butler x cg!reader

warnings: age regression (sfw)

a/n: ty friend !! sorry it's a lil short, hope u enjoy 🩷

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austin was okay when he woke up this morning, he wasn’t feeling little at all. he had his coffee, made himself some breakfast—hell, he even made you breakfast. when he kissed you goodbye before his long day of promotions, you had no worries about him being okay off on his own. things were good, he was happy.

his promotions went well, he had a good day out with his co-stars, now it was time to sit back with you and hang out for a little while before bed. the two of you watched a couple movies, eating on the couch and being lovey-dovey with each other then headed right to sleep after.

now, rarely does he ever have bad dreams. sometimes he’ll have a sad dream, thinking of his mother or maybe something along the lines of losing you too–but nothing that ever made him wake up in a cold sweat. his last nightmare was so long ago, back when he was filming elvis. filming took such a drastic turn in his life, he almost expected it. his thoughts combined with what felt like elvis’s own thoughts caused his brain to go haywire that night. you weren’t around then, he had to deal with it all himself. that was when he learned about going to that younger headspace. he had elvis to thank for that one.

this nightmare was nothing he’d ever experienced before. he felt sick to his stomach, waking up with tears in his eyes and the images still fresh in his mind. he couldn’t shake that awful feeling like the nightmare would actually come true—but it wasn’t, it was unrealistic. he needed to be reassured that he was safe, that he was okay, but he didn’t want to wake you up.

austin got up from bed, careful to not wake the sleeping figure beside him. he went downstairs to pace back and forth, trying to breathe and calm himself down. the tears just wouldn’t stop. he was in hysterics, shaking his hands and flapping his arms beside him as he tried to soothe his nerves. nope, nothing. he needed you.

he returned to your shared bedroom, watching as you slept peacefully. he refused to wake you up, he couldn’t. he felt you’d end up angry with him and it was the last thing austin wanted to do. he got back into bed, hugging his pillow as he cried softly.

but his soft cries woke you up, feeling a gentle shake of the bed as he tried to be quiet. you furrowed your brows, turning the other side and sitting up slightly. “austin?” you called out groggily, sleep in your voice. you looked over at austin, feeling your heart sink as you saw his shoulders shaking as he cried into his pillow. “oh, honey…honey, it’s alright. c’mere.”

that was the voice austin needed to hear. with no hesitation, he turned to face you and cried into your chest, soft sobs coming from him. you held him tightly, rubbing his back gently. “oh, aus…aus…” you cooed, “breathe, baby.” he only clung onto you more, his breathing staggered as he tried to calm down. “can you tell me what happened?”

he took in a deep breath, “bad dream.” he replied shakily, “don’ wanna talk about it.”

“alright.” you kissed the side of his head as you rubbed his back, “that’s alright, aussie. you don’t have to say a word. i’m here though, you feel my heart beating, i’m breathing and talking to you.” he hummed in response with a nod, hugging you again. “and i love you.” you made sure to add, “i’ll never let anything bad happen to you, okay?”

austin only seemed to cry again a little more, but nodding at your words. “love you.” he sniffled.

“think you can go back to sleep?” you tried to ask. he shook his head in response and you decided not to argue. “that’s okay, you wanna watch a movie then? disney movie?”

he raised his head, looking up at you. “i pick?”

you chuckled, “of course. whatever you want.”

#austin butler x reader #wheeee two in one day

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

The Contractor. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 6 of 6)

4k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader / pt 1 / master list

STORY MASTER LIST

Warnings/Notes: I8+ some angst, dry (wet?) humping, unsafe PIV SEX (!), legal age gap. Acronyms - RICO is about organized crime. barely edited.

It’s so close. It’s finally here. His hand slides under your shirt, runs over your back then pulls you closer. He feels so good, it’s like a dream. But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in. You want the truth. You pry your lips away from his, and right away, he latches onto your neck. “What did my Dad want?” you ask. Between kisses, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”

Joel shows you his phone and your dad is at the gate. He thinks in silence for a moment.

“Well, we’re not doing anything,” you offer, but your heart is pounding. “Don’t let him in.”

“I’ve gotta let him in. What’s he gonna think if I don’t?”

He rubs his beard and opens his home automation app. “You’re in the pool house,” he decides. He turns on a dim light in the pool house.

“What does he want?” you ask.

“Hell if I know. Go through the basement.”

“No way.”

“Come on, Trouble.”

“I’m not going through the tunnel alone.”

He seems endeared by your fear. “Do it for us,” he says with a wink that makes your heart jump. Then he gets up to take the drinks to the sink.

“Wait,” you say.

He freezes.

“What were you gonna say? Now that I know . . . ?”

“Now that you know, I don’t have to worry about you finding out later and being mad.”

You kind of doubt that’s what he was going to say. “I’m mad anyway,” you say.

“Figured. It’s okay.”

A car door opens and closes.

“Go,” he whispers. “I’ll come get you when he’s gone.”

You make it to the pantry stairs just in time.

When your dad comes in, Joel says, “Welcome back.”

Your dad asks, “Where’s my girl?”

“Sleepin’ it off in the pool house, I reckon. Didn’t want her to drive.”

There’s a long pause and your heart races.

Your dad says, “Good, good. . .thanks.”

Damn, Joel is smooth. He asks your dad, “Somethin’ you didn’t wanna call about?”

“Yeah. . .”

You’re tempted to stay and hear more, but you’re also afraid of what you might hear. You creep down the stairs quietly. You think about going to the theater instead and waiting in one of those recliners. It’s silly, but you really don’t want to go underground to the pool house. The tunnel is climate controlled and has automatic lights, but it’s still spooky without windows.

You’re standing near the tunnel entrance trying to work up your nerve when you hear raised voices, and now you can’t resist. You quietly make your way back toward the stairs to listen. If no one is going to tell you what’s going on, this is your chance to find out. It occurs to you there’s no reason for you to go all the way to the pool house except that Joel doesn't want you to hear this. Otherwise, you could have hidden anywhere and your dad would be none the wiser.

A cabinet slams shut and Joel demands, “How many aren’t you tellin’ me about?”

“Not tellin’ you? I just found out! I’m not in charge, you know that.” Glasses clink with ice.

“North of the fuckin’ border again. God damnit,” Joel says. He’s even more heated than he was in the car the other day.

Your dad asks, “What do I have to do to get you all in on this? Let’s get it done and be done with it.”

“You know what I want. I want out.”

“You’ll be out.”

“I want it in writing.”

Your dad scoffs. “You want a paper trail now? When the whole point was to keep your charges off paper?”

“Not the charges, damnit.”

“Then what do you want in writing? You made some bad guys go away in exchange for evidence going away, now we’re square?”

“It was supposed to be a six month contract. Here we are, how many renewals later? And I’m still consulting.” You can picture the air quotes with the way he says it.

“Still better than 20 years for RICO,” your dad says.

“Never woulda gotten the max. . . You know what? At least the wiseguys have a code.”

Your dad sharpens his tone. “Ever wonder what happened to that evidence?”

“FUCK” A glass shatters. “I’m never gettin’ out. Just say it.”

“This is the last-”

“Don’t string me along with this one last job bullshit, then the job’s a whole fuckin’ cartel. Call it what it is. I’m an asset. Not a contractor if I don’t got a fuckin’ choice.”

“You’re gonna be out.”

“You won’t even give me your word.”

“Joel, you have my word.”

“Alright,” Joel calms down a little. “And what about you? You ever think about your daughter in all this? You want her on tiktok seein’ your head roll off one day ‘cause you couldn’t take the loss and retire?”

“Don’t talk about my daughter.”

There’s a moment of silence, then your dad continues.

“We’re on the same team, buddy. I want this over as bad as you do. C’mon, let’s look at the intel.”

You’re sick to your stomach. Whatever this is sounds like it’s about your dad’s ego. What’s new. You shrink back to the tunnel and jog through it so it’s over fast.

You’re laying on the couch in the pool house, and you don’t even want to think about what you just heard. So you’re replaying the earlier conversation in your head. The one about your stepmother and . . . gross. Something doesn’t sit right about it. You’re trying to figure out why Joel would have felt guilty for you blackmailing him into sex.

It hits you that the only reason he’d feel guilty is if it were his doing. . . If he realized you thought you had leverage and saw an opportunity. Deprive you, make you want it that bad, see if you’d try to twist his arm into it. And once you got there, game over? Was he just getting off on having the power all along? Then you ask yourself the real question. If that’s the case . . . do you wish none of it ever happened? It’s an easy no.

So you put that to rest and can’t help but think about what you overheard between Joel and your dad. You want to know how this all happened, but from the way Joel was talking about heads rolling off, you’re most worried about what he and your dad are up to right now. You want to hear it from Joel. You want to know what his real job is. The truth might be the only thing you want more than to fuck him. And if he won’t tell you the truth, maybe he doesn’t deserve the latter.

You’re exhausted from being in the sun all day. There’s a big, heavy blanket – silky, not exactly cozy. It’s like a rich guy blanket, probably put there by an interior decorator. You curl up on the oversized couch and pull it over you. There’s a bedroom, but you don’t expect this to take as long as it does, so you don’t get in bed. You stay on the couch. It feels like Joel is taking forever, but you’re too tired to even look at the time. You take off your shorts and bra, swaddle yourself in the blanket, and drift off.

You don’t hear Joel come in or take off his pants or put his stuff on the table. You feel cold for a moment when he lifts the blanket, but then he gets under it with you and takes you into his arms, and he’s warm.

You stir, and Joel whispers, “You wanna get in bed?”

You shake your head no.

“It’s right there . . .”

“No,” you manage weakly. You’re not remembering any of the drama at the moment, just enjoying being in his arms and too sleepy to move.

“Ok,” he whispers, and kisses you on the head. You fall back asleep with your head in the crook of his neck.

. . .

In the middle of the night, you wake up in his arms with one of his legs hooked over both of yours and his boxers pressed against your panties, which are soaked with arousal, you can feel it. He’s only somewhat hard, but it’s enough to make you need it, bad. He smells freshly showered but you can still catch a hint of his sweat, which makes you need it worse. Your nose brushes his beard as you look up at his face.

He blinks awake with sleepy eyes. He presses his lips into yours for a long kiss that starts light, affectionate, closed-mouth, then becomes desperate, invasive. You accept his tongue greedily. He hardens right against your crotch. His hips roll into yours, and before long, he’s rock hard, and you softly moan “mmm” into his mouth.

He whispers, “Are you on-”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. Then he covers your mouth with his lips again. Yeah, you’re on birth control, and the question makes you throb as he kisses you. It’s so close. It’s finally here. It’s grinding into you right now. His hand slides under your shirt and runs over your bare back, pulling you closer against him, and he moans softly. He feels so good, it’s like a dream.

But the more you wake up, the more your thoughts creep in. You really, really want the truth. It dawns on you this might be your best shot at getting it.

You pry your lips away from his, and right away he latches onto your neck.

“What did my Dad want?” you ask him.

Between kisses on your neck, he murmurs, “don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demand.

He rolls his arousal into your clit and you bite your lip to suppress a moan while you wait for his answer.

“Not now, sugar. . .”

He lifts your shirt swiftly but smoothly and palms a breast, then is hard-on drags down your thigh and you feel a damp spot on his boxers. He takes your nipple into his mouth while he pulls your shirt off, and you help him, despite your reservations. You need the truth, but you’re aching. Your body needs to be filled by his.

“Not now. . . so, when?” you ask.

“When I’m back,” he sighs.

“Back from what?”

He doesn’t answer. He lightly drags his lips over the top curve of your breast, over your shoulder, up your throat, your jaw, to your ear.

His boxers find your drenched panties again and press against you in just the right place. He’s so stiff, it takes your breath away, and a soft moan falls out of your mouth. He whispers, “This is all that matters,” and you want him to be right so bad. He nibbles then sucks your neck right under your ear. He grinds his rock-hard member into you in a slow rhythm at just the right angle.

“This,” he says, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back. He wraps his arms around you, grinding into you rhythmically. He kisses you again, and his tongue erases whatever words were on yours. Blood rushes to your lips with the gentle suction of his own. With his face still on yours, he slowly, carefully takes his boxers off under the blanket.

You slide your hand down his abdomen and your breath hitches as you graze the light padding of his lower stomach. You find that small, circular scar and gently caress it. He flinches, then moves your hand to his cock. It sends a bolt of need to your aching clit, but you still have to ask.

“What’s it from?”

“C’mere,” he says, and latches onto your mouth again as he thrusts into your hand.

You want his lips on yours forever. You want nothing more than to just give in and fuck him. You push yourself up with your arm and he rolls onto his back. You shrug off the blanket. He watches you in a trance as you straddle him with his cock still in your hand. You thumb his scar again and he says, “you know I served.” Right. Of course.

His stomach rises and falls, and his head tilts slightly as he watches you nestle his naked cock at your drenched, silky underwear, right against your clit. You roll your hips into him and moan at the friction.

“Let’s lose these, sugar,” he pants. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and you lift each leg to slowly slip out of them.

You settle back in, then close your eyes, tilt your hips, and use him to pleasure yourself. You drag along his cock, from your clit to your dripping entrance and back, making his manhood shine with you, and he groans. Then you lay your hips onto his again and his hips rock against you, with his unfathomably hard cock gliding firmly against your slick.

He moans and breathes heavily. “I gotta be inside you, sugar,“ he says as he grinds into you rhythmically.

“I’ve gotta know the truth,” you reply, but it physically pains you.

He groans. “Fuck,” he pants. “What do you wanna know?”

“What you’re up to,” you say as you use your hips to massage yourself with his stiff manhood.

He takes a deep breath. “It’s complicated,” he says, and you inwardly acknowledge he’s probably right. You stop moving and start to back yourself down his thighs. You bend at the hip and hover over his cock.

“Are you still in construction?” You stroke him slowly.

“Still own the business.” He adjusts his hips under you.

“But that’s not all you do.” You bring it almost to your mouth and take a deep whiff of his musk which makes you twitch with need.

“No,” he quietly admits.

You think about how to simplify this and get it over with. You throw caution to the wind and ask, “Do you kill people?” You thumb the precum beading at his tip. No immediate answer. Then, you take his salty tip into your mouth for just a kiss and he groans. You take it out.

He sighs. “You really wanna know?” He thrusts into your hand.

You give it another kiss. “Yeah.”

You slowly crawl back up his body and lay half on him and he rolls toward you so you’re on your side like before. You hook your top leg over him. You search his eyes for an answer, but he looks down at your bodies instead. His large hand engulfs your ass cheek, caresses it with his palm, then gives it a firm squeeze and pulls you hard against him, and your wet pussy meets his stiff cock again.

“What do you think?” He asks quietly, then buries his nose in your neck and whispers, “Cause you’re prolly right.” Your heart skips a beat. You wanted more, but at the same time, it feels like he just told you everything he has to tell - or that’s what you’re trying to believe, for your body’s sake. You don’t feel anything about what he just said. All you feel is him, and that’s all you want.

He groans as he grinds into you, and his neck vein bulges. He rolls his arousal harder against your slick seam and kisses your neck. “Come on, sugar,” he says.

You open your mouth but don’t have any words, you can only breathe. He ruts against you again and you close your eyes with a moan. You’re throbbing, physically aching, swollen with need, dying to have him.

“Gotta be inside you now baby,” Joel repeats, smooth and low. He thrusts hard against your clit, slow, but so hard. His mouth devours yours, and your nipples harden against his broad chest. When his stiff member drags back down your clit, he hesitates at your entrance, then puts his hand on your ass, and the tip of his cock is caught by a tilt of your hips. Tension swells and tightens deep within you.

He begins to slowly push the firm head of his cock into your tight, wet hole and reads your face. You have to remind yourself to breathe. Your brow furrows. You bite your lip and inhale through your nose. You both adjust your hips so the angle is just right. He pushes a little more, and the stretch of his girth makes your whole body dizzy and desperate for more. He pauses and you just barely nod.

The arm under you pulls you closer with his hand flat on your back while his other hand braces on your leg that’s hooked over him. Then he pushes his stiff length into you with a grunt that becomes a loud sigh, and you gasp as his thick cock makes room for itself inside you. He pauses when he’s mostly in, and you look into each other’s eyes.

“Now fuck me,” you whisper.

“Yes ma’am,” he growls. He backs out all but the tip, then plunges into you completely. Your mouth falls open with a moan as your bodies are finally joined and he bottoms out with a shudder.

His lips latch onto yours as he retreats, then slams into you again with a grunt. He buries himself in you, slow and hard, each time somehow better than the last. Your hips roll into him, and together, you gradually up the tempo. You kiss sloppily, half your mouths breathing heavily and vocalizing against each other’s cheek. Each exhale is a moan.

His hips roll fluidly against yours and his whole body tells you how bad he’s been wanting this. Every time he fills you up, you could cry from how good it feels. He opens his mouth wide and puts it on your neck again, gently sucking your delicate skin into his mouth. He grabs hold of your ass and uses the arm under you to gently put you on your back without fully pulling out. Your legs wrap around him and he sheathes himself entirely once again.

You hook your fingers under the bottom hem of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. He takes in the view of your whole body again before he leans back down.

“You look so goddamn hot,” he says, looking down at you, thrusting into you. He looks hot, too.

The moonlight reveals a faint farmer’s tan from the barbecue. His pecs and triceps are pumped up and flexing as he moves in rhythm. His hair is messy and perfect. The silver bits of his beard glisten.

He leaves space between you and reaches down to thumb your clit, almost putting you over the edge, but you quickly take his hand and pull his body back into yours.

“About to come?” he asks. You nod and take a deep breath. He thrusts into you hard then slowly rocks his hips deep inside you with his neatly trimmed hair grinding into your clit. The tension bursts inside you and you groan his name as a massive wave of pleasure overwhelms you. Then another. You clench around him and your body jerks erratically. Your nipples go almost painfully hard and drag against him.

He pushes deeper than you thought possible, balls tightening against your ass, and you gasp and moan. Then he grunts, pulses inside you, and his whole body shudders as you milk his cock. You keep pulsing as he fills you up with his seed. Your whole body is drunk with him. When you’re both finished coming, he looks at you, and himself, then you again as he catches his breath. He strokes your face and says, “god damn.”

You almost forget you’re two different bodies until he slides out of you, leaving a void your insides try to fill. He lays on his side and takes you in his arms again.

He looks so peaceful. At the moment, you don’t care if you still don't know what’s going on. You don’t even care if he manipulated you into wanting this so desperately. All you care about is whether this is going to happen again, and you’re terrified of finding out it’s not. You start to worry about him going to do this job.

After a long silence, you say, “You don’t wanna do it, do you?”

“Do what?”

“Whatever you have to go and do.”

The peace evaporates from his face. He sighs. “No. . . No, I don’t, sugar.” He rubs his temples with the thumb and pinky of one massive hand.

“Then why do it?”

“No choice,” he says.

“That’s messed up,” you say. “I mean, not having a choice.”

“Yeah, well, it was my own dumb ass. Thought I was gettin’ outta somethin’ worse. Didn’t know what I was gettin’ into.”

“How do you get out of it now?”

“Finish the job, call it a day, see what happens.”

“Really?”

“It’s been a long time comin’.”

A couple seconds after he says it, a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t have to make the joke out loud. You playfully pinch his cheek.

“Worth the wait?” he asks with a smirk.

You shrug, and he says, “I’ll take it.” You can feel your whole face and body glowing. You don’t need to spell it out.

You get pensive thinking about why now, why tonight. “You weren’t just pissed at my dad, were you?”

He chuckles, then almost seems to panic when he sees you’re serious. “God, no, Trouble. . . “ His heart rate visibly quickens on his neck. He didn’t even have to ask you what you meant. He wraps his arms tight around you and kisses your head.

“So whatever happened to ‘not tonight’?” you ask.

“Couldn’t help it,” he says. “Neither could you.” Well, that’s true. “Plus, now I don't have to worry ‘bout you findin’ out you didn’t blackmail me. That woulda broken your sick little heart.”

“Maybe,” you say, still a little paranoid, but you push the thoughts away.

“I don’t think your dad needs to know about this,” he says. “That woulda been a sick serve though if I was mad at him,” he chuckles.

“Did you just say sick serve. . . “

“Sick serve,” he whispers in your ear.

“I don’t think that means what you– where do you pick this stuff up, anyway?”

“Prolly Jesse, he never shuts up.”

“So, Jesse’s-”

Joel puts his thumb on your lips. “Said too much already,” he says. “ You gotta keep it to yourself, okay?” You give his thumb a little bite before he takes it away.

It’s funny, you never had anything over him before, but now you kinda do. Not that you’ll do anything with it. Too dangerous.

“Yeah,” you say.

After a long silence, you ask, “What are you gonna do when it’s over?”

He sighs and adjusts his arms around you. “This right here,” he says. “If you want.”

You fall asleep in his arms again.

When you wake up, he’s gone. It’s light outside. Birds are chirping. You have a text from him that says “Stay here if you want. Back in a couple days.” You don’t stay there. It’s too creepy without him. You go back to your apartment, but you worry about him a lot and check your phone constantly. A few days later, you get off work, and when you walk out of the bookstore, he’s parked there, leaning against his truck, ankles crossed, wearing Ray Bans and a t-shirt, jeans as tight as ever, arms tucked under his massive biceps.

“Here comes trouble” he says as he pushes himself off his truck. He puts his hands on his hips and lets his pants adjust as he pops out one knee.

Your lips meet as he wraps his arms around you.

“All done?” you ask.

“Let’s celebrate,” he says. “Got that same suite on the river. Booked it for the rest of the month, so I reckon I’ll be around.”

Thank you for reading and engaging with this story for all six parts, y'all have been so awesome!

FWIW I see this as a happy ending with ominous undertones lol. I think I will come back to these two in the future (assuming there's still interest now that they've fucked). That's why I didn't blow my whole load in over explaining the subplot in this part. I initially included the sub plot so there would be an interesting basis to come back to them after the main story.

I just started another (darker) dad's best friend story: Left in Lincoln. In addition to smut it's also slow burn horror but no gore. Heed warnings. . .

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