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esote-rika · 3 months ago

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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐭 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: Smut 18+ MDNI

Summary: Teasing your virgin boyfriend was all fun and games, until he’s too worked up to function. When the layers of clothing fall off, you’re in for a delightfully large surprise.

Content: 3.2k words, virgin!Spencer, kinda sub undertones, he’s hung af and really fucking whiny, fingering, hand jobs, raw p in v but reader is on the pill, multiple orgasms, Spencer cries because he needs it so bad, reader wears lip gloss, dacryphilia (lemme know if I missed anything)

a/n: Truly just 3.2k words of filth. I wrote this instead of the next chapter for my thesis and I have no regrets. Also, a lot of my italicized words got lost because formatting on the app truly is the bane of my existence, but I reached a personal milestone and wanted to celebrate! So yay, here's a fic as a thank you for supporting my blog and writings ❤️

Sometimes dating Spencer Reid meant throwing subtlety out the goddamn window; the man wouldn’t know subtext if it hit him square on his beautiful, perfectly sculpted face. All your subtle attempts to seduce him have all been entirely unsuccessful, and you're beginning to wonder if he even wants you that way.

In your defense, you've been dating for over two months now and he still hasn't initiated anything beyond making out. It’s been making you antsy. Of course, his hesitation is nice. It comes from a place of respect after all, and there’s something endearing about his gentle touches, large hands ghosting over your body. You appreciate this easy, steady pace you've set for the relationship.

But after a particularly busy week for both of you, you've been left aching and needy for something more.

When you finally found a time that works for both of your schedules, you decided it would be time to make your move. Fuck waiting for him to initiate. You can do it yourself. You'd been subtle about it at first—a hand on his thigh, a few inches higher than where you'd normally place it, lips running over his jaw.

The man had simply laughed nervously, and returned with a kiss to your forehead.

Briefly, you wondered if it truly is because he's not into you that way. However, that thought flits right out of your pretty head when you see the unmistakable tent slowly forming in his pants.

So you’d upped your actions, nibbling at his earlobe in the middle of dessert, fingers trailing up his inner thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Screw subtlety. (And hopefully, him too.) By the time you two sat in the back of the cab, he’s a squirming mess.

“S-stay the night?” he’d been so shy about it you debated teasing him a little more. Maybe if you weren’t so horny, you would have, but relief had simply flooded your veins. Finally. So you nod, teased him a little more in the back of the cab until he had to grab your wrists and hold them in place, because he swore he’d probably come in here just from one more brush of your palm. The lightest pressure and he’d be a goner, a pathetic mess, and you hadn’t even really done anything.

There had been no build up once you got into his apartment. Simply an exchange of quick, sloppy kisses, Spencer pushing you deeper into his house until the couch hits the back of your knees and both of you came tumbling down. He’s already rutting his hips against your thigh, his erection hot even through his slacks. Clumsy fingers strip off fabric and shoes, leaving them strewn haphazardly on his living room floor.

You had pushed him away then, grinning enticingly as you went to straddle his lap. You ground your hips in circular motions against his still clothed crotch, gasping as the obvious bulge gives you even more traction to rub on.

“No fair,” he whines, fingers leaving crescent shaped indents on your hips, “P-please stop teasing, you’ve been doing it all night.”

He’s so tightly wound it’s almost pathetic. He’s lucky you’ve some semblance of mercy left in your body, because you could probably come undone just from the friction that came by dry humping him. But you relent, sitting back on his thighs as you tug at his underpants.

“All right baby, since you asked so nicely.”

Thus exposing what’s going to be the small issue of the night.

Rather, the large issue.

His cock springs free and for a moment you just stare at it. Red, veiny, pulsing and huge. Larger than anyone you’ve been with, larger than even the toys that hide in that one drawer in your bedroom closet.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You paled a little.”

A shaky laugh escapes your lips, “You didn’t tell me you were hung.”

His eyebrows scrunch, so ridiculously adorable you have to bite your lip to stifle another giggle.

“Hung?”

“Yeah, like, your dick is huge.”

Red blooms across his cheeks, “It’s - it’s certainly above average—”

“You know what the average length is?”

“I-in North America, yes.”

“I didn’t know you swung that way, baby.”

He groans, moving to hide his face into the crook of your neck, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding.” You manage to shift and catch his head before he has a chance to press it to your neck. Your lips land on his, and he’s pushing his tongue inside your mouth sloppily. When you pull away for air, you add, “You’re just bigger than what I’m used to.”

“Is that bad?”

Is it? One hand wraps around the base of his cock, stroking up delicately, testing out the girth and the weight of him. He shudders, muscles tensing. His fingers dig into your hips. With a grin, you reply, “On the contrary, I think it’s exciting.”

You position yourself over him then, letting the blunt tip run up and down your slick folds. The friction makes you both shiver. Every single ridge and vein of his cock catches on your sensitive flesh, and you can’t help but start moving your hips up and down, rubbing your folds over the length of him.

“You’re - ah - so wet.” his tone is wretched with desire and awe.

“All for you baby.” You continue your ministrations, letting his length part your folds, the tip hitting your clit at certain angles. His cock is covered in your slick within moments and your poor boyfriend looks like he’s about to combust. You feel the twitch of his cock, the shift in the way he moves his hips—rocking up desperately against you—and you know he’s close. So you stop.

You’re rewarded by another whine.

“Please,” his grip is hurting you now, palms clutching handfuls of your ass. You don’t think he’s even aware of how tightly he’s doing it. “Please, I’m so—”

“Spence, do you really want to cum without even being inside me?” That shuts up his whining. “Mhm, didn’t think so.”

“Can I— please, just—”

“What?”

“Wanna touch you.”

Your lips tug into a smile. At your nod of assent, one of his hands let go of your ass to move to your pussy, the pads of his fingers quickly locating your clit.

“Fuck, Spence,” your head falls forward, forehead meeting his, “Faster, baby.”

He obeys, tilting his head forward to capture your lips. Your mouth opens to him, muffling your moans as you begin to move, shamelessly riding his hand. His finger finds your entrance, dipping shallowly, hesitantly, but you’re so wet that, with a quick thrust of your hips, the digit slips all the way in.

Spencer pulls away from the kiss to watch, the pupils of his eyes nearly eclipsing the ochre irises as your pussy swallows his finger greedily. Transfixed, he adds another finger and it’s your turn to squeeze and mark up his alabaster skin with crescent marks.

“Yes,” you groan, gasp, writhe in his lap as his fingers curl and find the sweet spot inside you, “Oh god, Spencer, yes!”

He’s entranced as he pumps his fingers in and you, mouth hanging open as your pussy parts and accepts his fingers so prettily. To reciprocate, your hands—plural, yes both hands—wrap around his cock, starting a slow, lazy pace. That throws his rhythm off, fingers stilling inside you.

“Keep going,” you urge him, hands slowing to a stop as well, “Spencer.”

He whines, hips bucking up into your palms, but something in your voice seems to set him straight. Fingers thrust in and out of you again, long and elegant and stretching you for what’s about to come. Satisfied, you pump your hands over his cock again, twisting them every time you motion up, and squeezing as you go down. It doesn’t take long for him to fall apart, his cock twitching before cum shoots from the tip. Because you’re straddling his lap, it makes a mess and lands on both of you—his stomach, your chest, some even on your hair.

“Oh god,” he’s whining again, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I’m so—”

You silence him with a kiss, still stroking him, as your hips move over his hand. His brain manages to work, curling inside your fluttering walls. The movements are messy, uncoordinated as you chase your orgasm and he struggles to catch up. A whine leaves your lips, soft and needy. Something about it must trigger the neurons in his beautiful brain, make him remember you have the perfect bundle of nerves being neglected and he has more free fingers.

With a slight shift, he presses his thumb to your clit.

“Fuck, baby, yes!” you cry out breathlessly, head falling forward on his shoulder.

“Good?” he asks, increasing pressure on that sensitive nub. Small, quick circles. You wonder when he became so dexterous.

You nod, thighs clenched and quivering as your climax nears, the pleasure in your stomach building and coiling into something white-hot and— “Oh, Spencer!”

His other arm wraps around your waist, crushing you to him as he helps you through your orgasm. In the steady comfort of his arms, the rocking of your hips slow to a stop. You feel his lips at your temple, not really kissing the spot, just resting there. Heavy breaths rifle strands of your hair.

“Oh god,” he sighs, fingers slipping out of you with a pop, “Angel, that was amazing.”

You straighten up, grinning, “We're not done yet.”

“No?”

Eyes dart down suggestively, and his gaze follows to his own lap. Still completely erect, his cock lays flat against you, heavy and pulsating. “No, I think I need to take care of you a little more.”

“Y-you don't have—”

But you've already lifted yourself to your knees, fighting through the quake in your thighs, in order to position the tip of him at your slick entrance. His hands return to your thighs, nails clamping down on your skin.

“But I'm not— condom—”

How cute, he can barely speak. You grin, press a chaste kiss to the dimple on his cheek. “I'm clean. And on the pill.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

It's more than okay, actually. You're too shades shy of being desperate for his cock to split you open, but you're not sure if he'd survive hearing that sentence so you say, “Of course it is baby. Unless… you want me to stop?” If he catches the hint of insecurity in your voice, he doesn't show it.

Instead, his head is shaking no, vigorously, lower lip jutting out in a pout.

You smile, and kiss it away, “Okay then. I'll go slow, okay?”

You'd meant it as an empty warning. Really, there's nothing more you want than to impale yourself down on him and ride him like there's no tomorrow. However, as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock, as the blunt tip breaches your entrance and spreads your walls, you realize that going slow is probably more of a necessity.

He's big. Almost uncomfortably so.

One sharp exhale from your lips and he's suddenly looking at you in concern, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” you gasp, although the furrow in your brows suggest otherwise.

“You don't have to—"

“Hush, baby, I just need a moment.” You say, forcing yourself to relax and take more. The broadest part of his head pushes through, stretching you wider than you've ever been. Soft, keening sounds fill the air. It's hard to know which came from you, or from him.

You look up, and laugh when you realize Spencer's skin is dappled with large red splotches. He's staring at where the two of you are connected, his cock barely fitting inside you. With a deep breath, you roll your hips around, trying to get used to the feeling. He whines again, his torso falling back onto the cushion, “Oh my god,” he gasps, lower lips trembling, “Oh my god, please.”

“Need you to be patient for me, Spence.” you mutter, dropping down a little more. You place one hand on his thigh for balance, while the other wraps around the base of his cock, stroking him to give him some relief. The greedy bastard bucks up, involuntarily, and you hiss as another inch pushes into you before you're ready.

“Spence!”

“Sorry, I'm sorry! Just - oh god, oh god, please, oh did I hurt you?”

And then it happens. Something glimmers on his cheek as it catches the light. And then another. And again, this time on the other cheek. Your hand leaves his thigh to grasp his chin, tilt his head up.

Your boyfriend is crying. Splayed out on the couch, cushions embedded by the sharp joints of his elbows from where he's propped himself up. He's looking up at you with glimmering liquid gathered on the rims of his lashline. Dripping down his cheeks, only to be replaced by another bout.

“Baby,” You sigh, pouting as you lean down. Soft lips catch his tears, leaving sticky residue on his cheekbones from the remains of your lip gloss, “It's okay.”

Another sob. Large teardrops crawl down his chiseled face.

Knowing that it’s your fault makes a feeling of power surge through you. “You’re so pretty like this, Spence.”

“Angel, please—”

The sight of his tear streaked face does something to you, your walls relaxing and fluttering as you manage to accept another inch down. His reaction is instantaneous, nails sinking into your hips, head falling back. “No, no,” you say, hand coming to the back of his head, tilting his head forward again, “Look at me.”

Tear streaked and hazy eyed, he manages to keep his head steady in order to maintain eye contact. It’s a little sick, the way this turns you on, but it allows you to sheath his cock further in.

You lift yourself up, until only the tip remains notched inside you, and his cock gleams with the evidence of your arousal. With a smile, you sink down again, walls fluttering as you take him deeper, until you have about three fourths of his length buried inside you and he’s little more than a puddle.

A hiss escapes your lips, brows knitting from the stretch. It isn’t just that his length is impressive, it’s that he’s thick too, splitting your pussy open. But now he's buried more than halfway through, giving you enough room to lift yourself up, and sink down again.

You count that as a victory.

He groans, muscles tensing, and you know he's desperately trying not to buck up and meet your movements. With a small smile, you lean close, forehead resting on his. Large, honeyed eyes stare back up at you, still glassy with tears. You repeat the same motion of your hips, moaning as you feel every single ridge and vein of his cock straining inside your walls.

“Feel good?” you murmur, swiping a stray teardrop with your thumb.

“Mhmm,” he nods, breath hitching as your movements grow steady. The sting remains, but it's grown dull now that you’ve gotten more used to the size of him.

“Oh god, baby, why haven't we done this sooner?” you whine as you rock on top of him, enjoying the fullness of having him inside of you. The question is rhetorical, but he's in absolutely no state of mind to answer. His hands grip your hips tightly as he sniffles, unable to do anything else except enjoy the ride you're giving him.

Praises leave your lips, murmured in tones cloyingly sweet and half mocking.

“Crying over sex, you're so lucky I'm so into you.”

“You look so pretty with tears in your eyes baby."

“Never had pussy this tight, haven't you?”

That last one rips another sob from him, because you know this is his first, that you're making a mockery out of something significant for him. So you soothe with a kiss, and whispers of “I'm sorry, it's okay, you're doing so good, you feel so good.”

You punctuate it by moving faster, your pussy thoroughly comfortable and so wet that there's barely any struggle to bounce on his dick. However, you're still careful, still unable to take him all the way in. You figure it's something you both can work up to, something for the future. The thought makes you smile.

Besides he doesn't seem to mind, moaning beneath you as you ride him. He seems to have lost all ability to articulate himself, instead just staring at you with red, tear filled eyes and a slack jaw. It makes you giggle, the way he looks so utterly fucked out.

You clench around him, walls tightening sharply, sending sensations that make the two of you gasp.

“I-I'm so close.” He manages to say, his hands now helping you, guiding your body as you impale yourself over his cock again and again, “Please, I'm so—”

“I know, baby, I know, you can come.”

His eyes squeeze shut, and his voice is especially strained when he asks, “Inside?”

You tug his hair teasingly, and his kids flutter open again. With a grin, you confirm, “Inside.”

A few more thrusts and he's gone, crying out, squirming desperately beneath you as spurts of his cum paint your walls. You don't stop, riding him continuously as you chase your own release. Thick, creamy liquid drips from your pussy and down the base of his cock with every movement.

He sobs even more.

“Touch me,” You whisper, pleading, “Spence, please baby, I'm so close.”

His fingers are at your clit in an instant, rubbing hasty circles as your pace grows erratic and sloppy.

“Please,” He gasps, looking up at you with glassy, imploring eyes, “Please I wanna feel you come.”

Your body seems attuned to his desperate pleas, because as soon as those words leave his lips, your pussy clenches around him so tightly you both yelp in surprise. He doesn't stop his ministrations on your clit, helping you through your orgasm until you're panting. For the second time tonight, you collapse against him, face buried at the crook of his neck.

“My god.”

He laughs, breathless, “My god indeed.”

He shifts, moving slowly so he doesn't jostle your boneless frame too much. There's a hiss from you as he slowly pulls out. You find yourself clenching around nothing, feeling oddly empty after such an intense fullness.

Silence wraps around both of you, heady and languid. His fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp. Soft intimacy after a whirlwind of lust.

And then he breaks it, so achingly sweet it almost makes you cry, “I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

“Mhm?”

“Earlier,” He clarifies, lips finding your shoulder and staying there. His voice becomes muffled and sheepish, “When I thrust up.”

“I didn't think you'd remember that.” You tease, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at his curls.

“I've an eidetic memory, remember? I remember everything.” He laughs too. Relief makes his voice sound lighter. “I never want to hurt you.”

“You didn't,” You reassure him, “Well - okay, a little bit, but it's fine. I don't think you meant to.”

“Of course not,” He hums, lips traveling up your neck, “But I'll be more careful next time.”

“Next time huh?”

“Mhm,” Teeth on your jaw. Playful, teasing. “Next time.”

It sounds like a promise. You know he intends to keep it.

This was a request by @mggslover lol I forgot to add up top oh well

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x female reader smut #spencer reid smut fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #big useless dick chronicles #spencer reid big useless dick agenda #erika after midnight

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yoursweetinoccentdreams · 2 months ago

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"Double Stuffed"

Pairing: Husband!Toji x Pregnant! Reader

type of content: Nsfw- MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Prologue: Toji never thought he deserved peace. But then you came into his life. Now, in the quiet of the night, with your belly carrying his child, he felt something he'd never expected: home.

And for the first time, he was afraid to lose it.

warnings!: Soft dom Toji, possessiveness, praise kink, Daddy kink (if u squint), body worship, pregnancy kink, intamacy, oral (fem receiving implied), morning sex?.

photo made by yunonoai on twt! MINORS DNI!!

It was 4 a.m. when you stirred.

The house was silent—Megumi tucked in his bed down the hall, Tsumiki fast asleep on the fold-out in the guest room with her favorite bunny still clutched in her arms. Everything was still, wrapped in that deep early-morning hush that only existed before the sun rose.

Except Toji.

You felt him first. His body was warm behind you, chest pressed to your back, one hand already curved protectively over the swell of your belly. He’d barely moved, but you knew him well enough to feel the tension in his body—the weight of his stare, the way his breathing had changed.

"Did I wake you, sweetheart?" he murmured, voice low and rough against your neck. He kept his voice quiet, almost reverent, like he didn’t want to risk waking the kids.

You shook your head slowly, still half-asleep. "What time is it?"

"Little after four." His hand stroked over your belly, slow and steady. "Couldn’t sleep."

"You couldn’t sleep," you whispered, turning slightly into him, "or you just couldn’t keep your hands off me?"

You felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest. "Can you blame me, mama? You look too damn good like this."

His hand slipped beneath the shirt you’d borrowed from him—his shirt—and found bare skin. He let his palm rest there, wide and warm against your stomach before trailing down, slow and deliberate. You could feel his cock already hard behind you, pressing against the soft curve of your ass.

"You feel so good, baby," he breathed, kissing the top of your shoulder. "So soft. So warm. My pretty wife, all full of me."

His fingers brushed the waistband of your sleep shorts before sliding underneath, easing between your legs and finding just how wet you already were. You gasped softly as he started to stroke you, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world.

"Fuck, sweetheart… already dripping for me," he murmured. "You miss me that much?"

"Toji," you whispered, eyes fluttering shut, breath catching.

He moved behind you, pressing another kiss just beneath your ear. "Shhh. Don’t wake the kids, yeah? Gotta be real quiet for me."

The thrill of it—the darkness, the silence, the whole house asleep—made you even more sensitive. Your hips moved without thinking, grinding into his ghand, soft whimpers caught in your throat.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered. "Wanna taste you, baby. Gonna make you cum before the sun even thinks about rising."

You didn’t answer—just nodded, breathless and eager.

Toji helped you onto your back, nudging your legs open, dragging your shorts down slow so they didn’t make a sound. He knelt between your thighs, eyes roaming over your body like he didn’t know where to touch first.

He kissed the inside of your thigh before murmuring, "You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, mama. All round and glowing, and still this pussy’s sweeter than anything I’ve ever had."

Then he was on you—tongue licking through your folds with broad, warm strokes, fingers spreading you open as he sucked gently on your clit. He moved slow, like he had all morning to worship you, like the taste of you alone could sustain him.

Your hand slid into his hair, your breath shaky. Every moan came out soft and desperate, too scared to echo down the hall. When his fingers slipped inside and curled just right, your legs trembled around his shoulders.

"That’s it," he murmured, pulling back to press a kiss to your inner thigh. "Be good for me. Let me make you feel real nice."

You came hard, clenching around his fingers, your back arching off the bed. He didn’t stop until your body stopped shaking, until he knew he’d pulled every drop of pleasure from you.

Then he climbed back up, dragging his cock along your thigh as he kissed you, deep and possessive.

"You ready for me, mama?"

"Yes," you whispered. "Need you, Toji."

He pushed inside you slow, groaning into your neck as your body stretched to take him.

"Fuck," he grunted. "Still so tight, baby. Even with my kid in you. My perfect fuckin’ girl."

His pace was slow, deep, every thrust hitting that perfect spot as he kept one hand on your belly and the other tangled with yours. His forehead dropped to yours as he moved, eyes locked on yours, lips brushing together between kisses and quiet gasps.

"You’re everything to me," he murmured. "My wife. My girl. My whole damn world."

You clenched around him, and he gritted his teeth, hips stuttering. "Shit—gonna cum, baby. You want it? Want me to fill you up again, yeah?"

"Yes," you whispered. "Please, Toji…"

He groaned your name as he came, hips buried deep as he emptied into you, holding you like he’d never let go.

And when it was over, he didn’t move. He stayed there, bodies tangled, breath slowing, hand stroking your belly in lazy, tender circles.

Toji remained close, his body still pressed to yours as the night stretched on. The soft rise and fall of his chest against your back was the only sound that filled the room, his hand still resting gently on your belly, as if ensuring you were there, as if he could feel your heartbeat beneath his palm.

The house outside was still. The world, at least for now, wsas at peace.

Toji’s voice broke the silence, a murmur against your skin. “I don’t need much, baby. Just this.”

You shifted slightly, turning to meet his eyes, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you two. He wasn’t a man for words, but in these moments, there was nothing more than the simple closeness he offered—more than what he’d ever known before.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his hand sliding over the curve of your belly, as if staking his claim not just on you, but on the little life growing inside of you. “And I’m not letting go.”

You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I know, Toji.”

And in that moment, it was as though the rest of the world faded away. The dangers, the shadows of his past, everything. It was just the two of you. The man who never thought he’d deserve a home and the woman who’d somehow given him one.

Toji kissed your forehead, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “I love you, mama.”

You closed your eyes, savoring the quiet, the warmth, the simple comfort of being together. For the first time in a long time, you both allowed yourselves to simply be. No expectations, no chaos. Just love. Just the two of you.

And you both knew—this was the life worth fighting for.

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soaps-mohawk · 1 year ago

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Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks.

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

I will no longer be using a taglist for this fic, please follow THIS BLOG and turn on notifications

**This fic is currently in progress**

NAVIGATION PAGE

CRCB DIRECTORY

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer *

Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry

Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost

Chapter 9 - Save Me

Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming

Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins*

Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together*

Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie*

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes *

Chapter 17: Alone

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Chapter 20: The New Normal *

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment *

Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle

Part 5 - A Pack of Five

Chapter 23: Regrets

Chapter 24: The Last First Time *

Chapter 25: Animals *

Chapter 26: Fuck *

Chapter 27: Drown In It *

Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party *

Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Part 6 - The Tragedy

Chapter 30: Butterfly's Wings

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Chapter 32: The Tragedy

Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Part 7 - The Aftermath

Chapter 35: Threads

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Chapter 37: The Silence

Chapter 38: Shattered

Chapter 39: Life

Part 8 - The Next Chapter

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here

Chapter 41: Revenge

Chapter 42: Comfort and Joy

Chapter 43: Lies

Chapter 44: Little Shit

Chapter 45: Heat of the Moment *

Chapter 46: My Girl *

Chapter 47: The Reunion

Chapter 48: Wild Times *

Chapter 49: Reforming Bonds *

Chapter 50: Flashback *

Part 9 - Finding Home

Chapter 51: Back To The Start

Chapter 52: The Rucking Princess

Title card made by the beautiful @141wh0re

Chapter 53: Meeting the Family

Chapter 54: The Farm

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #x reader #a/b/o

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pedgito · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 | Joel Miller x reader

part one– summary | Two strangers and their internal loneliness attract like magnets. Joel is at a loss, stuck—and you are alone, terrified. In the forced, shared space you find that distraction was the easiest way to cope.

content warning | dddne — DUBCON (this is an ongoing theme for a while), coercion, selective mutism on readers behalf, graphic depictions of violence, injury tw, not quite kidnapping/stockholm but reader has nowhere to go, brief mentions of pregnancy (like literally one line), mentions of starvation due to food scarcity but appearances isn't deeply described, mentions of sa and other relating themes, mean!joel, girthy age gap (reader is 20, joel is 54), joel is riddled with guilt but what's new amirite, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv and creampies, if i missed anything please let me know!

author's note: guys this has been sitting in my drafts finished for almost a year and this new picture has sparked a fucking fire in my docs over this series (another one? yeah i know), this is probably the heaviest thing (for me) i have ever written? so just, be warned. i don't have a timeline for this, i'm literally just vibing it out as i am with most fics lately and if you see a tag you don't like. don't read. you're responsible for the work you consume. a full list of triggers/warning can be found on the masterlist.

word count —10k

part two | part three | strangers masterlist

“She’s a stray, look at her.”

Two pairs of eyes stare back, across the dimly lit room. You’re curled up in the chair, thick leather coat lined with wool draping your shoulders and your toes curled around the edge of the seat, hands balled up near your chest as you savor the warmth.

It was the first time in a month that you’ve seen a fire—sure, you’ve tried to build one. But, you never quite got it and usually ended up burning yourself in the process and added onto the litany of other scars left as memories and reminders on your skin.

Survival—while you weren’t good at it, you did what you had to. Pure, primal instinct. Find shelter, find food, get safe. Don’t die.

Your nose was bloody, lips chapped and cracking, running on a few hours of sleep over the last several days. Place to place, you had to keep running. If you didn’t, they would catch you, surely.

Your muscles ache as they had a moment to relax, legs sore from walking miles and miles, the lingering cuts and scabs that hadn’t healed from your own clumsiness and a mix of being at the end of a blade of a man with too much pride to allow you to damper the moment.

You licked your lips and your eyes flitted away, staring out the window and counting the string of illuminated, plastic orbs hanging on the house across from the one you were currently being interrogated in—the men were still looking at you. Your outer stoic expression hid away the trembling fear you kept inside. They were waiting for you to speak.

That never came.

“You got a name?”

You shake your head, eyes quickly averting in a different direction.

The two men were similar in build—tall and stocky, large and filled out bodies built of muscle and years of hard labor, older based on the grays littering their well-kempt hair and trimmed beards. One has hair that curls just beyond his ears, a warmer brown than the other mans.

They both pull the same expression—complete and utter confusion.

Nearly identical. Oh, they’re brothers.

If not, they sure did bicker like it.

“She’s pullin’ our fuckin’ leg, Tommy.”

Your ears perk up, assigning the name to a face. He seemed softer than the other man, less weathered and guilt-ridden. It wasn’t like you knew anything about these men, but you’ve learned to identify as much as you could within a couple looks.

Figure them out.

What do they want? What can you give them?

Tommy rounds the table separating you from him, a safe, protective distance as he presses his palm into the chair pushed under the table, fingers curling around the top.

“Listen, you’ve gotta give us something.” Tommy explains, “Given the shape of you, I’m tryin’ to avoid the whole vetting process we go through. We don’t take kindly to raiders or tricks or people looking to cause trouble.”

“We ain’t even got space for her—”

Tommy holds his hand up to the other man, eyes still locked on you.

“Look at me,” His voice is solid, demanding.

But, he’s not yelling. You turn meekly, gripping for the jacket when it slips from your shoulders. Your clothes were torn, jagged edges barely hanging on in some places. Garments soiled and unwashed for weeks and god—you fucking reek. You can smell it, you know they can smell it.

You were a stray feral cat that had scurried up to their doorstep and passed out from exhaustion and while one was attempting to take pity, the other was ready to crush your skull under the weight of his boot.

“Can you talk?” He asks, eyebrows raising slightly in question.

Your tongue rolls against the front of your teeth and you switch your gaze between the two men before shaking your head, a barely noticeable gesture if they hadn’t been staring you down.

You were being truthful—you couldn’t speak. It wasn’t like you’d had your tongue cut out and were ridden with the choice, but quiet has been the only thing that has ever brought you peace.

Familiar phrases echo loudly in your mind.

Don’t speak, be a good girl.

Seen, not heard.

Speak and I will rip your fucking tongue out.

So, no—you can’t talk.

“We’ve got families comin’ in—men and women that are willing to be a hell of a lot more cooperative than this—”

“Joel,” Tommy warns with a voice that shakes the room, causing you to jerk in response and this time he is holding his hand out to you, palm raised as if to ease you down, “we can give her a fair chance, just like we do the others. Grab a piece of paper and pencil,” He points toward a desk tucked against a far wall and Joel's heavy boot stomps follow Tommy’s orders before he’s returning, slapping the items back down on the table and taking a similar stance to Tommy.

You were sandwiched between the two men as they surrounded you, shaking as you took the pencil in your hand and gripped it, fumbling for the paper as you used your fingertips to drag it close.

“Where did you come from?” Tommy asks.

You remember the dark room, chains and screams—blood-curdling screams. One meal a day, if you are good. Constant pacing in the halls, a building in the city holding a much darker secret in the quarantine zone you had been kidnapped and forced to take home in.

Bad place, you write in sloppy handwriting.

Tommy leans to look and his brow furrows, subverting toward Joel who shakes his head at you.

“No—state, city. Anything. Bad place ain’t gonna cut it, kid.”

Kid.

They’ve never called you a kid before.

Men like him—he wasn’t them, but they all start to look the same after a while.

Salt Lake? Old QZ in the city.

Joel knows that place had crumbled years ago and quarantine zones were nearly non-existent now. Taken up by people trying to start anew, much like Jackson, but more often than not it was raiders—the filthy kind of people who took without asking and killed first, asked questions never.

He couldn’t blame them, but the handful of years in Jackson has taught him a new approach. It wasn’t his favorite, but it allowed him to sleep easier at night, usually.

“You left on your own?” Joel asks, speaking before Tommy could, likely ready to ask the same question. His insipid tone makes your skin crawl.

You chewed at your bottom lip and your eyelashes touched your cheeks in a flurry of blinks as you scribbled out the one word onto the paper.

Escaped.

The alarm is immediate, Joel’s head snapping up as you push the paper toward the middle of the table and allow the pencil to roll with it.

“Tommy, can I speak to you for a minute?” Joel’s voice is harsh, not nearly the question he posed it as.

Tommy rolls his shoulders and walks around the back of your chair, following Joel into the hallway, hushed voices shocking the tension back into your body as you curl into yourself, crossing your arms over your chest and allowing your eyes to scan the room.

Memorize, categorize—this was one of the men’s houses, of whom you weren’t sure for the moment.

But, it was stocked with personal items and supplies, a bassinet shoved away in the living room and as you turned that way you noticed a pair of eyes peek around the doorframe leading that way.

A girl, young—not much younger than yourself but she is noticeably more child-like, curious.

Her shoes squeak against the hardwood startling you both and suddenly Joel is reentering the room and directing his voice toward her.

“Go on home,” He speaks to her, his expression washed-out and tired, “don’t linger ‘round here, kiddo.”

“I’m the one who found her,” She seems to take an angle of defense, coming into view. Clothes that hung off her body, not well-fitting and clearly second hand but more intact than your own, “I was on watchtower duty with Dina—”

“Ellie, this doesn’t concern you.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, walking closer regardless of Joel’s words and tossing a knife on the table.

Your knife—the black-handled switchblade closed shut. It still had old, dried blood caked on the handle. It could have been your own, but that was just a lucky guess. That thing had been your lifeline for weeks, moments away from a terrible night of near starvation or a desperate attack on you, it helped keep you safe.

You instinctively reach for it but Joel is quick—unnaturally, as he curls it into his hand and gives you a look of warning.

“This,” He holds it up, the switchblade dwarfed between his large, calloused fingers, “ain’t yours.”

Your lips pull into a thin line, eyes falling to the floor.

Tommy’s tongue clicks against his cheek as he rounds the corner, fingers rubbing at his chin as he paces, his face deep in thought and contemplation as he back steps toward the edge of the table near you, leaning into it and crossing one foot over the other. His hands are tucked away in his pockets.

“That place you escaped—” He looks up toward Joel briefly before his gaze lands on you again, “they gonna come lookin?”

You could tell the truth—you weren’t sure.

You weren’t the only girl that was locked away in the central tower of that city, the only person who was being used so inhumanely for the needs of others in the most heinous of ways.

Selfish, sick and demented, men who got off on that desperate need for power and control.

So, instead and out of self-preservation, you lie.

Shaking your head, Tommy takes a small breath and nods.

“Alright—I’m trustin’ you. Still, we’ll beef up security for a bit, and add a few extra patrols. You need a place to stay and we’re gonna give you that. But, we got rules.”

“Rule number one–you earn this,” Joel holds up the knife again before it’s tucked away in his pocket for safekeeping. Your eyes drag toward his pocket, staring daggers into the material.

“You earn your keep—I’m going to give you some time to settle, but eventually we’re going to assign you to a station. You work or you leave, there’s no other way about it.” Tommy continues, “And while I’m more inclined to give you a space of your own, we’re all full up singles and giving you a townhome��well, I’m not so sure that is the best idea.”

You weren’t going to argue—not that you had the will to speak up for yourself now, not when both of their presence were so oppressive. You nod obediently and look over at Joel who is still lingering, like an ugly guard dog ready to bare his teeth at a moment’s notice.

“I’d keep you here, but with my situation I’m not putting anything at risk,” Tommy says and you suddenly realize that this was his home. You weren’t that slow-witted. He had a family, something you were never familiar with.

But, you understood.

“So, you’ll be staying with Joel.”

It clearly wasn’t his choice, based on the way his teeth clench, jaw flexing as he crossed his arms, fabric stretching over broad shoulders and thick, muscled biceps. His piercing gaze makes you shrink into your chair, if that were possible.

Your nose scrunches slightly, in a faint show of disgust but you quickly collect yourself.

“I’m also gonna suggest you see our doctor, get those bruises checked out. Make sure you don’t have any broken bones and they can stitch up any—”

It forces you into a panic, heart beating rapidly in your chest as the jacket drops from your shoulders, fingers reaching out to wrap around Tommy’s wrist—and, like you had suspected, Joel is quick to grab at your own wrist, ready to tackle you to the ground. It wouldn’t take much given your size difference—he was just...massive, threatening in a way you've never felt. Joel could snap you like a twig, but his restraint is there.

Tommy notices the panic in your eyes—you weren’t trying to attack. You were attempting to communicate in a moment of worry, he nodded and waved Joel off, prying your hand from his arm gently and placing it against your knee.

“Alright, no doctor.” Tommy settles, “For now.”

You slump back and blink away the burning sting of tears that filed your eyes.

“Get her settled in,” He tells Joel, “make sure she eats.”

Joel doesn’t nod, but he moves, backing out of your way and giving you space.

You move slowly, shaking the jacket off your shoulders before Tommy is shaking his head and grabbing hold of the lapel, pulling it back up. You jerky slightly, averting your body from his sudden touch.

“Sorry–just…keep it,” Tommy tells you—it was a look of pure pity, his eyes softening around the naturally hard edges, “I’ll have my wife go searching for some clothes tomorrow, get you out of those and into something clean and better fitting.”

You follow behind Joel to the door, a careful distance as you linger, bracing yourself for the cold crunch of snow under your bare feet.

“And brother,” Tommy calls out—there it was. Joel twists the knob and looks over his shoulder, “don’t go scaring her more than she already is.”

You weren’t sure if it was even possible to feel true fear anymore.

The walk is short, but painful. Small winces that get caught in your throat as you quicken your pace to keep up with Joel, a slight limp to your walk from the bruising on your ribs and the tinge of pain in your hips and pelvis—your body has relaxed for too long, it felt brittle.

You hurt all over, but lately, you could will it all to go numb if you tried hard enough. Disconnect, disassociate, and disappear from your own body.

Eventually, you do meet his front door and you’re enveloped with warmth in a matter of seconds, making your way inside hesitantly as Joel holds the door open. He hadn’t spoken a word since you left the other house, fingers gripping hard on the pair of gloves tucked into his left hand. You look around curiously, the house shrouded in darkness aside from the fireplace ignited and crackling in the far room to your left. Joel moves quietly behind you, placing his belongings on the kitchen counter, but the switchblade is still tucked away in his front pocket, you know that much.

He plucks at a note folded under a magnet on the fridge, reading it to himself silently.

“Come on, kiddo,” He mumbles to himself, realizing it must be from the girl—sounding exasperated as he balls up the paper and tosses it in the trash. He favored that word, but you can’t tell if it’s just a habit.

You weren’t a kid, not even close. It felt patronizing when it was aimed your way.

He eyes you carefully, sighing as he presses a hand against the kitchen counter.

“I’m settin’ you up in the basement—none of the other rooms are in good enough condition.” Joel explains, speaking to you in the most civil way he has all night, “nothin’ is off limits except my room. And Ellie’s. She’s out back but you don’t get to go snoopin’ around. Got it?”

You shrug the jacket off but hold it close to your chest, arms crossing over each other as you hug the thick material. You nod slowly.

“Really, nothing?” Joel asks.

All it takes is a look, eyes bleary and sorrowful.

“Go on,” He nods, “there’s a bed down there, a shower, a change of clothes—”

You quickly scurry off, overwhelmed by the intensity of his unwavering gaze and the sound of his voice as it becomes more and more muffled the deeper you trek down the stairs, careful steps on your torn up feet, he seems to finally give up when your feet hit the concrete floor.

It’s still warm here, but not nearly as much. A small rectangular window sits right above the old bed, a mattress on a rusted metal frame that looked like it barely had any life left in it. But, it was an actual bed. Not boxes and a bedsheet, a makeshift pillow made from your dirtied clothes to give the ache in your neck some much needed relief.

There was a small room in the corner, a bathroom that barely managed to fit the necessities you needed—but it was still something. A shower, a toilet, a sink. A mirror that you couldn’t even bother to look in, making your way around the room you find the stack of clean clothes and towels on the coffee table in front of a worn couch, threads pulling apart at the seams on the arms.

You crouch, despite the screaming protest from your body and sift through the pile. A clean shirt, a clean pair of sweats. Underwear—you haven’t had the luxury of clean undergarments in months, often finding that going without was easier. A lump burns in your throat.

You move slowly, tucking the jacket over the edges of the mirror to cover it and placing the clothes on the closed toilet seat as you struggle for a few minutes to figure out the shower, jolting at the touch of hot water when it shoots out from the spout above.

You strip carefully, shirt pulled over your head with a small wince before your fingers are dipping into the waistband of your bottoms, slipping them down your hips and allowing them to drop silently to the floor before you step out of them—the moment the water touches your skin you regret it, the dirtied water pooling at your feet.

You cry, sob under the spray of water and scrub away every inch of dirt and grime and blood from your body–it hurts, it fucking hurts but you can’t find it in you to stop. You could scrub the skin raw, open up old wounds and make the fresh ones worse, but you’ll settle for red and welted skin. A mix of re-opened gashes and cuts flushed out by the stream of water and your maniacal scrubbing, but at least you didn’t smell like the stench of your own bodily fluids and weeks of built up dirt on your skin, nights of sleeping on wet ground in the woods.

There is a moment of running your fingers through your hair that feels nice, hair still slightly matted from the lack of care but it feels cleaner, as much as you could manage before your arms gave out from exhaustion. You savor the warmth until the water runs cold, heavy footsteps above you shaking the dust from the ceilings.

Right. You’re not alone. Not anymore.

But, that didn’t bring you comfort either.

You turn off the water and reach for the towel, allowing yourself to get dressed at a careful pace—they must be Joel’s clothes, a plain white shirt that was soft to the touch but clearly worn and a pair of black sweats that had seen better days, the color warped and faded. You manage to slip the socks of your feet with one stumble, hand pressing against the sink to catch yourself.

The jacket remains hung and you flick off the light before taking space on the bed, palms pressed out against the clean, linen sheet, the comforter tucked away against the wall as you laid down, body protesting the entire way.

Eyes squeezed shut, you grit your teeth and pull the comforter over your shoulders.

You try to sleep that night, but it is futile. The light hanging above your bed flickers occasionally—every fifteen minutes to be exact, it had done it thirty two times that night.

–

It never fails—just as you feel yourself drifting off every early morning, Joel is awaking you with the sound of his heavy footsteps and a bag of food. Sometimes a tray or plate. It varied.

You’ve been here three full days now, not counting the night they had taken you in.

You hadn’t left the room, hadn’t asked for a single thing.

Joel was starting to believe that your tongue was cut out—that you were robbed of the ability to speak entirely, but he knows that isn’t the case when he watches your tongue peek out as you take a bite of the scrambled eggs he had grabbed from the town dining hall for you.

You haven’t seen an authentic plate of food in months, and with proper silverware—having half the mind to dig in with your hands before Joel passes you the fork. It was real, warm food. Your stomach growled with greed as you shoveled the food into your mouth quietly.

Joel watches you with a strange look, not with judgment but a genuine curiosity that he doesn’t act on with questions or crude statements. He waits until you're done, leaning against the door that leads to the rest of the house, only coming near when you press the plate to the floor with a soft clang.

And it continues like that for a couple days—occasional Joel will bring more than food; a book, a magazine, a set of cards. He never explicitly acknowledges the items, but he does leaves it behind. You can’t bring yourself to leave the room, in fear of what you faced outside of here. Even just a few steps into Joel’s kitchen and it made your stomach twist and the bile stir.

Sometimes the food comes in only paper bags, a few at a time and things that didn’t need to be kept cold because when Joel had to go away on patrol he couldn’t watch over you, even if he felt the need to.

He wasn’t sure if you were going to try and make a break for it, escape over the walls.

He wouldn’t stop you, wouldn’t blame you either. But, the state you're in, he can’t see you surviving more than a day. Bruises were healing, cuts were scabbed up and scarred over. He never tended to your wounds, always allowed you to do that on your own. At least, he assumed you were. You’ve learned to not scamper away as much, taking things from him with minimal contact and a small nod, sometimes allowing a small gesture of thanks with a hand on your chin that you bring downwards.

Joel only scowls his brow and looks at you confused.

“You stink.” Joel says one day, out of the blue over dinner as he watched by the doorway.

You stop chewing mid-bite and look at him.

“Have you showered at all since the first day?”

Impishly you look away toward the bathroom.

It felt selfish, to overuse the hot water and indulge in the pleasure of the heat—always used to cold showers and the bare minimum of scrubbing yourself down in thirty seconds. It was routine: in, wash, out. There was no enjoyment.

You shake your head after a while and push your plate aside, feeling your stomach turn.

“Go,” He nods as he steps toward you, swiping up the plate in his right hand and leading the way toward the bathroom, noting the way the coat was still hung over the mirror. He doesn’t comment on it, but he nods his head in the direction of the shower.

You look at him slightly unsure, “If I have to force you in there I will,” He says, but there isn’t any real bite behind, although the look in his eyes tells a different story, “there’s plenty of hot water, use it.”

But…

The word lingers in your head.

“I’ll have Ellie grab you some new clothes, somethin’ that fits better.” Joel tells you, “Just get in the goddamn shower.”

You brush past him quietly, beginning to undress yourself without warning which alarms Joel.

“Oh—well, shit. I mean after I left.” Joel turns away and his descending footsteps eventually fade and despite how hard it is to get your body to work, or even move, you shower.

You grab the unused towel hanging over the barely clinging metal rack nailed into the wall, wrapping it around your body securely, bare feet pressing against the ground and for the first time in a while, it doesn’t hurt. It’s sore, but it doesn’t sting as harshly as it did.

There’s a suspicious lack of clothing—your dirty ones nowhere in sight, no clean ones either. In fact, the room was practically bare of all trash and old clothing. You ignore the dull pain at your hip, a wound still on the mend and step around the corner of the doorway carefully and hear the sound of footsteps above you, the soft hum of voices until one fades, a door closing following in the wake of the newly discovered sounds.

The door is open. Joel left the door open.

You stop several feet away, staring out into the hallway, the house was dim aside from the bright glow of flames burning in the fireplace. You feel so strongly to run toward the door and slam it closed, clamber back into bed—fearful that if you left the room then this bubble of safety and protection would be broken. But, there was the small voice in the back of your mind screaming to take a step forward, and then another, until your fingers were lingering over the doorknob and pushing it open further.

You take a step out, only to be met with the chest of someone else running into your arm clutching at the towel wrapped around your body—it couldn’t be anyone but Joel, and of course, you’re right.

He’s staring at you emotionless, aside from the subtle acknowledgment that you had listened to him.

“Got you a couple sets—something to sleep in, something to wear during the day.”

He doesn’t elaborate, handing the clothes over into your empty hand. You’re halfway in the process of dropping your towel before Joel’s hand is wrapping around your wrist, forcing you to stop.

“Stop doin’ that,” Joel commands, nodding toward the bathroom behind you, peeking over your shoulder in that direction before looking back at him with wide, startled eyes, “privacy—do you understand that?” His voice is slow, almost patronizing.

Privacy wasn’t lost on you—but it had long been a foreign concept.

You nod.

“Then go, get dressed.” He reprimands, pointing down the hall, a different bathroom then you’ve seen before.

You scurry away with the clothes clutched to your chest, catching a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you step inside the room—it was startling, having not seen your appearances in weeks, days and days of constant guessing, wondering how the time starved in the Wyoming forest had damaged you.

Physically, mentally, emotionally.

It had taken a toll and it was even more visible than you expected.

You looked rundown, eyes tired and sorrowful. It was pathetic. You tried not to linger for long, noting the appearance of your body and moving on—having to look back at yourself in the mirror was far worse than being attached to it.

The clothes Joel gave you were thin, fleece pajamas that felt soft to the touch and kind against your still sensitive skin. You exit the bathroom quietly and Joel is nowhere to be found in your immediate vicinity, half-expecting him to be waiting outside the bathroom door. You edge back toward the basement door before you spot him on the couch in the living room, the back of his head and broad, stocky shoulders the only glimpse of him you have.

He seems relaxed, staring off into space as he looks down.

You don’t know where the pull comes from, but it wraps around the ache in your chest and pulls you closer, toward him. The creak in the floorboard gives you away.

“Don’t sneak around,” Joel says, “makes people anxious ‘round here.”

Makes him anxious, clearly.

After a moment of silence, he extends the invitation to join him.

“If you’re cold, sit—got room if you want to sit somewhere closer to the fire.”

He did have quite the sizable living room, a couple couches and a few arm chairs surrounding the otherwise bare living space.

You can see the softness on his face under this light, his eyes drawing up to look at you while his head is still tilted down, his hands rubbing away at his stiff knuckle joints. He keeps flicking his eyes between the two—his hands, you, then back again.

If he has something he wants to ask, he doesn’t.

You’re silent as you avoid each piece of furniture all together and quietly make your way between his outstretched legs, a perfect place to tuck yourself between as you kneel.

Thank him, he deserves it.

He didn’t strike you as a shy man, but you’ve done this plenty of times before—it was really no different, but this was more of a silent offer than the usual demands you were faced with.

Joel doesn’t move right away, doesn’t even react.

Until you touch him, your hands gliding over his knees, his thighs, leaning forward to nuzzle your face against his thigh as you pull at his zipper—again, his fingers wrap around your wrist. But, no words follow. You make eye contact with him then, feeling at your most confident and bold when he looks so worried, frightened—the deep feeling of intrigue buried underneath it all.

You pull away from his grip and wrap your fingers around his waistband, pulling slowly until he moves, wordlessly he responds by using his thumbs to push his jeans far enough down that you can comfortably press your hands over the obvious bulge in his boxers—it wasn’t hard or straining, but the touch of your hand against his cock had it growing to that point quickly, his eyes downcast and half-lidded.

It was like he didn’t want to look, but couldn’t look away. You took it in stride and pulled at his boxers until you could tug his cock free of the confines, watching it spring up against his stomach—thick in every sense of the word and large, much more than any man who’s ever claimed you. Pretty, almost, if you could consider it that. He’s well-kempt and clean which was nice, unusual given the time you lived in now. More importantly, you feel your mouth watering at the prospect of taking him inside, pressing your tongue flat against the tip and swallowing him down.

That has never happened before.

You settled between his legs more comfortably, raising up on scabbed up knees and dragging your fingers delicately along the shaft and down to his balls, watching them tighten at the attention you showed before you’re leaning down to take his cock into your mouth without much of a warning. Joel shifts slightly and you ancitpate him to push you away.

But, really, you just wanted to thank him. It was the only way you’ve learned how.

He breathes out softly, the first sound you’ve heard since you touched him.

You drag your tongue from base to tip, hand pressed his cock flat against it as you circle around the tip before dipping back down, slipping back into the motions so easily it feels mind-numbing.

Your eyes flutter as you force yourself to take him as deep as possible, nearly gagging before you pull away, catching a slight glimpse of him behind bleary, wet eyes.

His own are wild, hands pressed flat against the cushion, mouth only slightly ajar. But, he won’t look at you. Only the action, your hand wrapped around his shaft, the other pressed against his thigh and he fights off that urge to touch you, tilting his head back against the couch as you continue with a sudden fervor you didn’t have before.

You bob effortlessly, taking him just near the point of impossible before you’re pulling away, repeating that until you can feel that faint throb, that familiar pulse as his balls tighten with his impending orgasm and just as he reaches for your hair, ready to pull you away, you fight against it. He comes in your mouth with a low groan, gripping onto the surface of the couch in desperation.

When the pulsing finally calms you pull away, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand and standing slowly, adjusting your clothes where they had shifted out of place slightly before taking a silent seat on the couch beside him, laying down and curling up into yourself.

You hear the dull sounds of him readjusting his pants, zipping them, shuffling slightly as he clears his throat and suddenly there is a throw being draped over you—a soft, sherpa lined blanket that immediately bathes you in warmth.

Joel catches your gaze as you blink up at him, pausing briefly to acknowledge how lost you seem—in need of guidance. It settles in him then, dawns on his mind that this was what you were used to, wherever you had escaped from was far worse than anything he’s ever suspected. He tucks the blanket in gently and double checks the locks on the door. You’re already asleep by the time he passes by, leaning over the back of the couch to check on you.

Joel feels the guilt creep in slowly.

He should have stopped, he knows he should have. But, he didn’t.

Why? He couldn’t explain it.

The walk to his bedroom seems miles away and when he finally reaches it he’s closing the door with a dignified sigh, immediately making his way toward the en-suite bathroom and undressing his clothes—it was his second shower that day but he didn’t give a shit.

He needed a moment to reconvene in his mind…or escape.

Really, he just needed a distraction. It was selfish need.

The clothes pile up on the tile floor as he turns on the water, the stream shooting out of the shower head in quick spurts before it levels out and Joel steps inside, head first as the water soaks his hair, face, traveling down his body.

It wasn’t the first time he’s allowed his hand to travel to his cock within the privacy of this bathroom—a man with no one to keep his bed warm at night, or morning–or ever, really. He’s learned to cope, release some of the built up anger and frustration even if for a brief moment.

But, this was different. Because the only thing he could think of was you. The meek looks you offered, dumb-founded and lost, like a young gazelle lost in the woods. He can only imagine, suspect what you’ve been through, but the look you had given him while you took him into your mouth was something Joel couldn’t describe.

There was no clear acknowledgement, no hard line of yes and no. The lines were blurred and he doesn’t know why, but he was okay with it for a moment. Truly, you’d had all the power in the moment anyways—Joel was helpless under the touch of your mouth, a goner the second your hand touched his skin.

He tugs at his cock lazily and with no real purpose, knowing if he tried to come again so soon it wouldn’t happen, but for the brief moment of peace, he imagines you there, kneeling before him with the spray of water over your face and his cock buried in your mouth, puffing out your cheeks and how you would be so willing to do whatever he’d ask.

Obedience—that was the one thing that stuck out. You always listened when he spoke.

He could help you, he thinks. Heal you.

Or, he would fuck up and make it far worse.

He wasn’t sure if it was even worth the trouble.

The next morning you wake to the startling clang of pans behind you, shooting upright on the couch and snapping your head toward the kitchen to catch a glimpse of Joel’s back, shoulder blades stretched and outlined under the thin material of his shirt, clinging to his back snuggly. There’s a savory smell that breaches your nose–meat, potatoes, something of a near feast as you spot the few plates on the table stacked with various other foods.

Joel seems to sense your eyes, turning his body slightly to look behind him and your gaze quickly averting down, playing with a loose thread on the blanket as he plates the remaining food.

“Beginning of the month,” Joel explains, “usually the only time we get to eat like this.”

Joel swiftly decided that taking the route of pretending nothing ever happened was the easiest, brushing off the events of the previous night with a point to the seat near the kitchen island.

“C’mon, dig in,” He invites, “Ellie should be up soon and lord knows that kid doesn’t care about savin’ enough for the rest of us. Fill up while you can.”

Your footsteps are quiet and slow as you approach the island, the long sleeves tucked under your fingers mid-palm, crossing your arms over your chest as you look at the cacophony of items. Not sure where to start or end. Joel reaches for a plate and points to the items in order from left to right, plating a couple items with every nod you give him.

He was an enigma of a man—so brute and intimidating at a glance and he was when he needed to be, but this was a soft crack in a hard exterior, years of built up trauma intertwined with a rough world dependent on the strongest to survive. It had to level out at some point–and here that big strong man was, making up your plate and plopping a piece of bacon down before you impishly nod your head toward the pile of bacon.

“More?”

You nod quickly and Joel feels a subtle grin tug at his face, nodding in agreement with your choice as he gives you another piece.

You eat in silence—chewing slowly and methodically as you listen to the quiet, roving chatter of people outside, neighbors readying for their day. It was a community, a town, well-oiled and rare in this world.

“Are you done hiding down in the basement?” Joel asks eventually, peeking up from his plate as he leaned against the counter adjacent the island, “Eventually you’re gonna have to talk to Tommy, get you set up with a job.”

Right. Work. Sustenance. You had to carry your own weight.

“You can talk here, you know?” Joel tells you, “You can talk, can’t you?”

Your eyes flick away briefly, avoiding the question.

“Let me try that again,” Joel clears his throat and tosses his empty plate behind him in the sink, fingers curling around the edge of the counter beside him, “Can’t?”

You shake your head.

“Won’t?”

A jerky nod as you push your own plate away.

“I’m not tryin’ to pry or force it—jus’ think it may cause problems eventually.”

You make a motion of writing with your hand shyly, hoping he’ll understand.

Joel nods jerkily and turns to rummage through a drawer in the kitchen, filled with a miscellaneous amount of junk, finding a pad of paper and a pencil and handing it over to you.

Not scared. Of you.

Joel watches as you scribble the words down and furrows his brow.

“No, I’m not sayin’ you are—”

You scratch out the words and start a new line.

If we talked, they hit.

They?

Joel doesn’t voice the word but you see the confusion on his face.

They do nice things and we thank them. The men. If we didn’t, they would hurt us. Or kill if they were angry enough.

You scrunch your nose up slightly, looking disgruntled. Joel watches your hand shake as you continue—it didn’t help to be vague, but that fear they had instilled in you lingered like a dark, suffocating cloud.

I grew up in that place.

Bad place, Joel reminds himself. That was what you had told him and Tommy.

“People—they ain’t like that here—” Joel says, but you’re already scribbling before he can finish.

You don’t know that.

Ellie disrupts the quiet conversation with her loud entrance through the back door, looking tired as she tugged her jacket over her shoulders, pack already slung over her back.

“You’re up early,” Joel notes, preemptively handing Ellie a slice of bacon.

“Jesse wants to get an early start for the patrol since that big storm is supposed to hit tomorrow.”

Joel nods, noting how you looked between the pair curiously.

Ellie seems to notice you’re staring too, offering a casual, “Hi,” around the bacon her teeth tore into.

“Right, shoulda remembered to tell you,” Joel looks over at you, “we’ll both be gone for a few days, longer patrols with all the extra ones Tommy’s pushing at.”

“Seems pointless,” Ellie shrugs, “but…whatever.”

“You get goin’,” He tells Ellie, “I’ll catch up.”

Ellie chews at her breakfast indifferently, nodding in response as she departs, the front door closing gently behind her.

Joel gathers the dishes quietly but you feel the urge to move, helping him gather the rest of the dirty dishes and pile them into the sink. You don’t ask and he doesn’t either, but as he washes, you dry, and it feels normal.

Maybe the only normal experience you’ve had since you ended up here.

You couldn’t place your finger on him, though—Joel. One moment he was kind, talkative and curious, willing to take his time to figure out what he could about you. But, other times you felt like you were a stray dog that popped up at his doorstep and refused to leave. So, now he was forced to house you, feed you, take care of you.

So, obviously, it only made sense to take care of him.

He’d enjoyed it the first time.

Joel’s drying his hands on a towel you hand him before you’re reaching for his belt, metal clinking against metal and you tug, but you’re stopped short, his hand wrapping tightly around your wrist.

“The fuck are you doing?” Joel asks, shoving your hand away forcefully.

But, it’s the clipped, peaking anger in his tone that forces you back further.

You blink away the quickly forming tears in your eyes and retreat quickly, mouth hung open slightly in shock, frightened at the almost instantaneous shift in Joel’s voice. His face. His entire demeanor—you’ve crossed into dangerous territory, like mindless prey.

You’re amiss to the way Joel’s jaw clenches at his sudden outburst, internally shaming himself for the strain in his jeans at even just the thought of you touching him again—the willingness and eagerness of your actions, how long you’ve been conditioned into this.

He doesn’t call after you, though—only stopping by the house later that afternoon before he left to set you up with enough meals and changes of clothes to last you those three days. A knock on the door startles your timid heart, forcing you to your feet and by the time you reach the door he’s nowhere in sight. You’re thankful for that, actually. You weren’t sure if you could even look at him, fearful of the disappointment.

There was a small note folded on top of the pile placed on the floor, unfolded with a careful touch, it read—House is all yours.

Three days, all alone.

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave that basement once.

–

When Joel returns home it’s late and he’s toeing his boots off at the door the moment he steps inside and notes the lack of warmth—a fireplace unused and the door to the basement closed shut. Ellie had already wandered off with Dina for the night, one less thing he had to worry about. He was more appreciative that she’d finally broken out of her shell and actually made a few good friends.

He ignites the fireplace, looking over his shoulder every few seconds waiting, wondering if you were waiting in anticipation—those curious eyes tracking every movement he made. He’d picked up some dessert from the mess hall on the way to his house, selfishly wanting to keep it for himself but he feels that tug, that push to extend the olive branch.

He needed to clear up this…confusion. Try—he could try, at least.

“Sorry, I actually didn’t want you to suck my dick.”

“I enjoyed it but we shouldn’t do that again.”

“I know it’s wrong, but I didn’t want to stop you.”

Joel knows he sounds ridiculous in his head, but he was at a loss.

He’d stopped you because it was wrong–but not because he didn’t want you to.

Joel doesn’t even consider the idea that you may already be asleep for the night, pulling out the small box of dessert and a fresh pair of clothes he’d picked up alongside the food when he checked his horse back in at the stable, picking up a few other spare supplies.

You hear him before you see him when he opens the door, those heavy boot steps thunk, thunk, thunk against the floor and you lie still, staring at him meekly as he approaches the couch adjacent to the bed in a near corner, resting the items on the table and taking a seat silently.

“You hungry?” He asks casually and your stomach growls on command despite your unwillingness to move, blanket tucked under your chin.

He can see you shake your head slightly, easy to miss if he wasn’t staring you down.

“We need to talk,” Joel says, your eyes jolting to him suddenly, “about the other night.”

He jerks his head over, silently asking you to join him on the couch—he’s leaned back but not comfortable, his hands resting in his lap, much like the position you caught him in that night.

When you don’t move, he sighs. A deep, soft sound that has you turning over in bed to face the wall.

“I’m not asking.”

Heavy footsteps follow, the sounder closer and closer, his boots scuffing against the ground before they stop and you can feel him at your back, the whole of the bed shifting as he rests a hand on a decorative knob of the arched bed frame, creaking under his weight.

“Sit up,” He says again, “come on.”

There’s an irritation in his tone that tells you he isn’t leaving until you do, pushing up slowly and crawling to the side with your hands. The last lingering wound stings as you move, a gash on your lower back, toward your hip that you had haphazardly sewn up a few weeks ago with some sewing thread and a needle. It still hadn’t healed like the rest of your wounds. The last remaining physical memory of that time, aside from the scars.

Joel tilts his head to the side and back, noticing as you squeeze your eyes shut in pain and irritation.

“You’re still hurtin’,” It's a statement, he knows it—he can see it on your face.

You shake your head unconvincingly.

“Let me see.”

You shake again, backing into a corner but Joel is quick, he follows and leans down, pulling at the edge of your shirt that was already riding up your back, noting the red and fussed up wound by your hip—it was infected, there was no doubt in his mind.

“Does it hurt?” He asks now, “Don’t lie to me.”

Your eyes lock for a long, lingering moment before you nod, shifting away from his touch as it presses featherlight against the skin.

“I got some supplies upstairs,” He tells you absently, eyes examining the festering wound, “you need that cleaned and stitched up properly before you end up septic.”

Not that it sounded like too bad of a prospect anymore, you square yourself away as he retreats without another word, his figured disappearing out of sight as he turned the corner outside of the basement, your eyes following the sound of his footsteps and noticing the soft rustle of dust above—it took a while for you to realize his room was above yours at first.

He’s back swiftly, a trove of supplies in one arm and a wooden chair in the other, hauling them like they weighed nothing, sleeves already rolled up at his elbows. The chair skirts the ground, squealing loudly as Joel brings it near the edge of the bed and motions for you to turn around and face the wall.

Again, not asking.

With shaky hands and fingers you move, slowly until you back meets Joel’s fingers at your shoulder, curled up into a fist and pressing gently into your skin.

“Lift your shirt,” You grab the edges, ready to strip it over your head before Joel grabs your bicep and stops you, “—that’s—that’s fine, alright? Just hold it there.”

Joel slowly cuts away the old thread and removes the old stitching with a careful hand. You bite at your bottom lip until it draws blood. It unsettles Joel with how quiet you are, even now. Not a word or a single sound or expression of pain, just white knuckles gripping the shirt bunched under your chest and your head tucked down as you shake with a silent cry.

“Stop movin’,” He says brutishly, cleaning up the wound with an antiseptic that makes you squirm away slightly, “I’m almost finished.”

He cleans, re-stitches and covers up the wound with minimal effort, like he’s done this a million times before. And you hear the shake of a pill bottle behind you, whipping your head around quickly.

“S’just antibiotics,” Joel explains, “we picked away at a pharmacy a few months back that had a decent supply,” He pours one into his hand before it rolls to his fingers and he’s handing it off to you—as he suspects, you eye it wearily, “look, your choice. I got enough here to clear that up within a week or you can continue to suffer, not my problem.”

Reluctantly, you take the pill from him and dry swallow it down with a small, nearly silent wince.

There was no reason to trust Joel, but you did.

At some point between the walk from your bed to the table, Joel realizes he’d bypassed the entire reason he had come down here–to talk. About it. That instance you were both dancing around, the one he’d fended off the second time with a barking, heavy voice.

His lingering presence is hard to ignore and you grip the edge of the bed, standing on your own two feet with his back turned to you.

He’d helped you again. Maybe you wanted to thank him.

Or you just wanted a distraction from the pain, the creeping loneliness.

He’s so distracted he doesn’t hear your footsteps approach him, a newly found vigor as you pull at his forearm and turn him with a sudden strength Joel wasn’t expecting, sending him tumbling on his heels to the couch. He sees it in your eyes then, the task you’re focused on, already undressed from the waist down, the length of the shirt reaching a few centimeters short of mid–thigh to cover your naked down as you climb onto his lap and Joel allows it.

He doesn’t yell or scream, there is no apprehensiveness there. Not now.

He could sit in your eyes—this was coping with whatever you couldn’t bring yourself to face, unspoken trust that you didn’t want to voice. This was a distraction for him too.

He could fight this off, but Joel never considered himself a great man. Or, really even a decent one. And, as you work at his belt, he finds his hands joining your own, struggling for a moment before he’s yanking the leather from the belt loops and unbuttoning his jeans as you pull at his zipper, lifting slightly off his lap as he pushes his jeans down to his calves—there was a beauty to how easily your bodies worked against each other, your push to his pull.

Wordless, he knew what you wanted. And you knew exactly what to give him.

He was like the bad men, but wholly different.

The wonder and admiration in his eyes told you so, even if they were quickly clouded by desire and lust, his face suddenly stoic as you grab at his cock, tugging it to full hardness within seconds before you’re dragging the tip of his cock down the center of your cunt before sinking down harshly—and the hands stilled at his sides finally act.

He’s careful of the wound on your hip, dragging his fingers over your ass and to your thighs, fingers curling around the back of your bent knees to pull and tug you in, groaning quietly into the thick, thready material of your top as you curl into him.

He couldn’t bear the idea of looking at you, watching you as you moved so eagerly against his cock, soft breaths at his ears that made him wanton for the sounds you couldn’t make, the terrible vocal paralysis like a vice anytime someone looked in your direction, especially him. Your palms press into the wall behind him, dull fingertips clawing at chipped paint as you bounced your hips fiercely, quick and efficient in the process. It was clear you’ve done this before—detached and just a means to an end, a device of pleasure.

And Joel uses it, selfishly. One hand falling to the back of your neck to curl you in further, the other at your ass as he squeezes, guiding your hips down to the sharp, pointed thrust of his own movements and Joel can already feel that familiar cole in his groin—days of staving of his own need for release from the sheer amount of guilt he felt over this, somehow ending up here again.

Using you—and maybe you could admit it yourself, it was just as much a distraction for you as for him, but the sudden warmth in your chest is startling. You could come like this, the drag of his cock hitting so deep inside of you with every thrust that your visions starts to white—a mix of delirium and pure euphoria, the gasp that leaves your mouth is broken and barely audible but Joel can hear it, feeling you tip over that cliff with a hand tangled in his hair, needing an anchor and finding that it was him in that moment.

But, you don’t stop either. Working through the crest of your orgasm with a reflexive squeeze of your cunt as you came apart and pulled him in, his balls tightening in warning as they slapped against your cunt with each drop of your hips and Joel tries to warn you, pushes gently at your hips but you don’t move—won’t. And he comes inside of you with a muffled, tired grunt as he pants into your shirt.

Whatever mutual agreement was made had become void.

“Get off,” He says after a beat, but doesn’t push.

You listen, moving off of him and turning away immediately, arms tucked around your middle as you eyed the fresh clothes and still uneaten slice of dessert, one that Joel had offered to share.

A peace offering, an act of forgiveness. But, that was all shattered and swept away now.

“You stupid, girl?” Joel asks suddenly, turning to him at the harsh words and finding him re-dressed, brow drawn in as he snatches his belt in his right hand, gripping it tight. “That your master plan, here?”

You’re confused and Joel’s eyes drag to your legs, unseen but you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, pushing out of your cunt as it pulses from the comedown of your own orgasm.

“Gettin’ knocked up and hopin’ that a baby will keep you safe here?”

You were safe nowhere and you knew that.

Joel had no idea, but you couldn’t even begin to explain how wrong he was.

Babies, even the prospect of that idea made your skin crawl.

So, with frustration evident on his face and already anticipating your answer, you shake your head.

“You try that shit again and I’ll—”

You brow raises in anticipation and Joel opens his mouth slightly before he clenches his jaw.

“Knew it was a fuckin’ mistake taking you in.”

And it feels like a gut punch, but he was right.

Joel tosses the pill bottle on the table and you watch as it lands, rolls before hitting the floor and stopping just at your bare toes.

He departs with a deep scowl, door slamming behind him and you wait, count the steps until you hear his footsteps above the basement and you wander over toward the table.

The remnants of the items he’d brought with the intentions of a one-sided conversation, a lecture, really.

It was pointless now.

Opening the container to the uneaten dessert, you sniffed it testingly before swiping a single finger over the icing on top, pressing the sweet, sugar cream against your tongue and letting your eyes drift closed at the flavor, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy and savor before you’re ripping into the thing with your bare hands, a fuck you the peace offering Joel was trying for.

There was no peace to be had. You would never find peace here, either.

A new emotion floods your body—not anger or rage, but jealousy, greed. You wanted him, and deep within, you knew he wanted you too. Even if just in a primal way, a means to distract.

And in your sudden, newfound boldness and curiosity you linger toward the kitchen in a fresh change of clothes for that night, snatching up the notepad Joel had left out from your previous conversation before scribbling the rest of that out and ripping off a jagged piece of paper.

It was a thank you.

Flipping it over, you continue the message.

There is no plan. I trust you.

You fold the paper up and wander down the hall, counting the steps until you land at a closed door, one that you can only assume and hope is Joel’s and slip the paper under the gap at the bottom of the door.

There was a chance, the anticipation that Joel could convince Tommy to strand you out into the forest again, forced back into harsh survival, but something tells you Joel doesn’t have it in him, not anymore.

Joel catches the sight of your departing shadow as he retreats toward his bed, the paper flying across the floor with the sudden draft and landing right at his feet, he picks it up and readies to trash it without a thought before he catches sight of that simple phrase.

thank you – no plan —

Joel pauses, reading over the final set of words with a dangerous tug in his heart.

I trust you.

That tug was guilt and the creeping sensation of doom.

Trust. You.

He’s really fucked up now.

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #my writing

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shouyuus · 5 months ago

Text

─── Ⅵ FIGURE EIGHTS

violet; 28,888 words; fluff and smut (at the end), semi enemies to lovers, fake dating, hockey!vi x figure skater!reader, ice dancers!meljayce, miscommunication, smau-intermissions, toxic ex!cait, simpgirl!vi, slowburn, the gays r bad at feelings, lots of making out that almost leads to something, emotional edging (for YOU lol), fingering (both receiving), thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), slightly unhinged!reader, no "y/n"

summary: a hockey player and a figure skater kind of, sort of, not really, but then actually fall in love. what could possibly go wrong? (narrator: apparently, everything.)

a/n: YALL. yall. YOU. ALL. lmfao. i can't believe i finished this (i say, after writing any fic longer than 5k words). but i TRULY doubted for a second that i would bc as i kept writing, it kept... getting longer? i hope that this doesn't drag, and that you guys like it. it's really a fucking labor of love. like heavy emphasis on the labor. shoutout to @vifilms for being my emotional support, and to my irl bf for actually physically reading through like 90% of this fic out LOUD with me to make sure the dialogue doesn't sound awk. BUT ANYWAYS. pls enjoy and PLS tell me what u guys think!!!! the smau fake texts won't start till chapter three, but ! it's my first time making like.. fake texts so sldkfjsd.

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: party people

chapter one: shut up and kiss me

chapter two: fists to a knife fight

chapter three: love's dream

chapter four: for cup's sake

chapter five: don't hate the player (suggestive)

chapter six: six (nsfw)

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged for this series! :) if you're already on my vi-taglist via my normal taglist link, then you're all good. if you only wanna be tagged for this series, comment below! pls pls have your age visible somewhere on your blog as this will be an 18+ fic!!!! thank you!!!

prologue: party people

─── Ⅵ IT STARTS WITH A GAME of spin the bottle — a college party post-game, the home team the exhalant victors, the crowds of adoring fans the worshippers at their beer-tower altars, doing keg stands and shot-gunning cans of cheap bud lite for an approving grin or a wink.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” you ask, jerking back as a drunken guy nearly topples into you, the red solo cup in his hand sloshing over onto the already sticky linoleum floor.

Mel sighs, “Because, darling, you promised me that you’d come out at least once if me and Jayce made it through the Challenger Series this year.”

She tugs you behind her, weaving through the crush of bodies till the cramped living room area opens onto a much larger patio, the mid-autumn chill cooling your skin.

“It was a joke,” you say, whining slightly even as Mel grabs what looks like an unopened hard cider from the table and presses it into your hand.

“Yes, and one that hurt my feelings,” Mel sniffs, turning her nose up, though a grin teases at her lips, “so to make up for it, you now have to stay at this party and have some semblance of a good time.”

And that was three and a half drinks ago, because sometime between then and now, you’ve found yourself pulled into an unwitting game of spin the bottle with what seems like half the entire hockey team, sitting next to Mel, her boyfriend Jayce on your other side, chatting animatedly with one of the girls hockey girls. You overhear the words “creatin” and “Bulgarian Squat” and decided that it’s time for you to tune out of the conversation.

“Vi, it’s your turn!”

Vi, your thoughts linger over the sound.

It’s a pretty name.

You glance up at the girl sitting across from you, Number Six — you’ve always known her as that, what with the tattoo on her cheek (there were rumors that it’s actually not real and she just reapplies one of those temporary tattoos every two weeks) and the fact that it’s her jersey number, it’s really not too hard to remember.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, laughing as she reaches for the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle. Her right hand’s bandaged up and you can’t help staring at it. When you look up next, it’s to catch her watching you, your eyes meeting in a startling clash of raw contact — the cacophonous noise of the party dulling out to a thin whine somewhere at the back of your head as you stare at her and she stares right back.

You’d never noticed that her eyes, even in the dark, beneath the dim, flickering patio lights, reads mourning-dove blue, so subtle it’s almost gray, so sharp as she takes you in that your stomach drops from inside you. She smirks and twists her fingers expertly around the bottle, setting it whizzing.

You tear your eyes away, your breath sent astray in your chest by just that look alone. You frown at the spinning bottle, your mind abuzz with fragmentary thoughts you can’t quite string along for long enough to form a full sentence — eyes… her lips are pretty… wasn’t she dating… someone? who??? what’s her name again? something pretty —

“— right, ice princess, you ready?”

“Huh?” you jerk your eyes up from the bottle to find everyone watching you. From your left, Mel nudges you with a sanctimonious grin, her eyes flickering down to the bottle and back up towards —

“Go on!” she hisses, even as you blink uncomprehendingly down at the bottle pointing right at you.

Across the circle, Vi’s questioning smirk is all the answer you need as your alcohol-addled brain finally puts together the pieces.

“R-right…” you push up onto your knees, but something holds you back, a niggling feeling in the back of your brain as Vi’s smirk grows wide and she jerks her head towards the living room.

“Want a bit of privacy? Or… would you prefer an audience?”

Half the circle wolf-whistles at the insinuation, the other half roll their eyes, leaning back on their elbows as if to settle in for a long night.

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth scald dry.

“Privacy. Please.”

You follow Vi stiffly from the patio back into the stuffy house, her fingers closing around your wrist as she tugs you behind her through a long hallway splitting off from the main living room, branching into a series of what look like bedrooms. Half the doors are closed, illicit sounds echoing out from behind them, but Vi finds an empty one near the end of the hallway and pushes it open, leading you inside.

“Oh wow,” you say, looking around the room. It’s a typical fratboy’s room, full of suggestive posters, the floor littered with questionably laundered clothes.

“What, not your ideal setting for a makeout-sesh with a stranger?”

You frown as your eyes slingshot back to Vi, her standing feet from you, hands tucked loosely into her pockets, watching you with dark, firefly eyes.

“Thought we were just supposed to kiss once.”

Vi chuckles, closing the distance between you in a few quick strides, crowding you up against the closed door.

“Sure. We can do that. Or…” she makes no effort to hide the way her eyes flicker down to your lips, trailing back up in a line of fire that sizzles against your skin. “I could show you what a real good time looks like.”

Your breath crystalizes in your chest, and the strange, tickling feeling traces down the back of your head till it gathers, hot and unconscionable at the nape of your neck — a spin-click wheel of half-formed thoughts and images ticking by behind your eyelids as you try to remember why the hell this feels so wrong.

And then, it clicks, and you press a hand to Vi’s chest just as she’s leaning down to graze her lips against yours, the friction so delicious you almost lose your train of thought.

“A-are you sure this is a good idea? Didn’t you just break up with that track and field girl? Caitlyn?” you blurt out, a culmination of all the snippets of whispered conversations and half-caught glances of the pair of them across campus. The It-Girl Couple, people called them, the hockey team star and the track and field genius. They were hard to miss, and even harder to forget.

A moth-wing-flicker of emotions crosses Vi’s face as she takes half a step back, her expression morphing into one of shock, and then hurt, and finally, hard-lined disgust as she looks down at you with a thin-lipped grimace.

“Oh fuck you.”

She yanks you from the door, storming out without a backwards glance. You catch yourself against the half-made bed, your breath coming in heaving pants as your head spins. Guilt curdles in the bed of your stomach like spoilt milk, and it only takes you half a second to realize that of all the things to say, that probably was the worst possible choice.

You’d heard mention of the breakup, even if you didn’t have any stakes in this so-called game. It was harsh and messy and loud, and it had spilled across campus like a backed-up toilet, oozing foulness and stank across the grounds till not a single person was left unstained in the aftermath.

“Wait —” you stumble after Vi, but it’s too late. By the time you reach the patio doors, she’s already settling back into her place in the circle, an easy grin slung across her lips.

You swallow, pushing through the door to scurry over to Mel’s side. Mel beams at the flush in your cheeks, convinced (just like the rest of the circle) that it’d been one hell of a kiss, judging by how entirely breathless you are.

“Damn Vi, you gotta learn how to go easy on them figure skaters, hm?” Margot smirks, her eyes glittering as she looks you over, “look at the poor darling — she can barely breathe!”

Everyone laughs, and Vi flashes a convincingly satisfied smirk, shrugging up a shoulder. You glance at her, only to shiver at the arctic ice behind her gaze as your eyes catch once more.

“What can I say? Easy isn’t a setting I come programmed with.”

You duck your head as Vi casts you one more frigid look before turning to laugh at something a teammate has just said, and the circle devolves into good-natured banter and pocket conversations. You gulp around your too-dry throat and pluck Mel’s drink from her hand, tossing the rest of it back in a single gulp. She blinks at you, eyes wide.

“Darling, are you —”

“I — I’m fine just — it’s — I think I’m gonna head back.”

Mel frowns, “Are you sure? I mean —” she looks towards where Vi’s been pulled into an impromptu arm-wrestling match with some dude from the football team, “you could try and —”

You shake your head, “No, I — I think I’m good. I had a good time, I just —” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ve got practice tomorrow and Amara’s gonna murder me if I get there late.”

Mel stares for a second before relenting, a soft sigh on her lips.

“Alright, alright — go on then. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yes?”

You give her a tight-lipped smile, reaching out for a quick hug before ducking out of the party, skirting the edges of the growing mosh pit forming in the living room till you finally find yourself out on the front steps again.

You close your eyes for a second, pressing your back to the frat house door, feeling the dull thump of the music inside reverberating through the thin wooden frame as you breathe in and out.

You can still taste the heat of Vi’s breath on your lips, feel harsh sting of ice as she’d caught your eyes after. The chill air, once refreshing, pebbles your skin and an involuntary shiver shakes down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself and give your head a good shake.

Whatever, you think, stepping off the porch, casting your eyes up at the star-strewn sky, a whisp of warm breath fogging up the air before you.

Not like it’ll matter. Bet she won’t even remember me after tonight.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent @lewd_alien @jack-frost-2010 @starsfortaylor @onesockcat @lesbian-useless @armins-slvt

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idyllic-ghost · 4 months ago

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Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

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moonriizing · 4 months ago

Text

urs | p.sh (18+)

You weren't supposed to want more, but you did. What started as a casual fling became more complicated when you found yourself caught between your desire and the reality that Park Sunghoon's heart belonged to someone else.

Genre: college au, situationship, smut Pairing: Park Sunghoon x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), NOT PROOFREAD. I'll come back to do that when I can lol. Notes: 10k words. Listening to urs by NIKI. My first Sunghoon fic and it's written on a whim! lol. I wrote this instead of working on my overdue wip lol. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

Enjoy~

You first met Park Sunghoon at a frat party you had no real interest in attending. It was the first night of the semester, the music was good, the drinks were flowing, and the energy was exactly what you needed. It was the kind of night that made you feel young and invincible, where bad decisions were just part of the fun. And tonight, you were on a mission: hook up with a hot guy.

It was a promiscuous mission, you knew that. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t that kind of girl because you were! But you weren’t the reckless, messy type. No, you were the smart kind of promiscuous. The kind who could have fun without losing control. You were practical about it—always sober enough to make sound decisions, always keeping your boundaries clear. Simply put, you were the best type of promiscuous.

As a college girl with ambitions, you couldn’t afford to get tangled in romance and all that commitment nonsense. Too much work. But you had needs, and fulfilling them meant nights like this—scanning the crowd for a guy who could tickle your fancy, no strings attached.

That was how you spotted him.

Tall, handsome, but oddly out of place. While the rest of the party thrived on the chaos, he stood by himself in a corner. He had a cup in his hand, but it wasn’t like he was enjoying it. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else—his posture slouched just enough to suggest he wasn’t a part of this. He had that bored, almost irritable look on his face, the kind that made you wonder if he was only here because someone dragged him along.

You were not the type to hesitate, so you didn’t. You’d done this enough times to know exactly what you were after, and right now? You were after him.

“Is this your first frat party, or are you just too cool for it?” you asked, leaning in just enough to get his attention.

He glanced at you, his eyes flicking over your face for a second before landing on your lips, then back up to your eyes. Up close, he was even more good-looking—long lashes, sharp features, lips that curled just slightly at the corners like he was already amused by you, and a couple of beauty marks on his face that made him even more striking.

He was definitely your type.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” you added, taking a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact.

“That obvious?” he asked, his voice low, almost melodic.

You smirked, liking the way his voice was as perfect as his looks. “You look miserable,” you pointed out, still grinning.

He chuckled lightly, amused but not exactly thrilled. “What about you? Having fun?”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t. But right now, I think I might be…” You let your gaze wander, deliberately slow, from his face to the exposed skin of his chest where a few buttons were undone.

Sunghoon smirked, his gaze trailing over you in a way that was appreciative without being too obvious. “Well, that makes two of us,” he replied suggestively.

He flirted right back!

“I’m Sunghoon,” he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it and gave him your name.

Your eyes locked with his—now more curious, sizing him up. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you staring each other down, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts with your hands still joined. Then you saw a flicker in his eyes that made you come to an agreement with your own intuition.

You tilted your head, eyes still locked with his. “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

His eyes widened slightly, his brows lifting in surprise—visibly caught off guard by your suggestion. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn’t let go completely. You kept your gaze steady, showing no hesitation and letting him know you were serious. A few seconds of silence passed where you almost thought he’d say no, but then he exhaled a soft laugh.

“Are you always this forward?” he asked, amused now.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Only when I see someone I like.”

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you like me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

With that, his smirk widened, and before you could second-guess yourself, he set his cup down. “My place or yours?”

And just like that, you were out of the party and heading to whatever the hell came next. No strings, no pressure. Just the way you liked it.

You didn’t know it then, but that was when the tsunami that would come crashing in began to take shape.

You didn’t mean for it to happen again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing—fun, uncomplicated. But he was phenomenal, so it happened a second time. And a third. And eventually, you just lost count.

Maybe it was because, other than the fact that he was really good at it, he was also easy to be around. He wasn’t like the others—the ones who got clingy after a night or acted like they were doing you a favor by sleeping with you. Sunghoon was different. He never overstayed his welcome, never asked for more than you were willing to give, but he wasn’t distant either. If anything, he was… nice.

Not in a fake, trying-too-hard way. Just nice. Made you feel comfortable, always made sure you finished before he did, and never left without saying something witty that made you roll your eyes. He had this way of being detached but not cold, like he had mastered the art of keeping things casual without being an asshole.

“You know,” you mused, sprawled across his bed, still catching your breath, “my first impression of you was that you were boring and miserable. Turns out you know how to make a girl have fun.”

Standing by his closet, Sunghoon threw you an amused glance as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. “Yeah? I aim to please.”

You smirked. “That sounds like something a guy who thinks he’s good in bed would say.”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, looking almost too put-together for someone who had just spent an hour between your legs. “And? Am I not?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You’re alright.”

He scoffed, tossing a pillow at you, which you barely dodged. “You’re a bad liar.”

You grinned, stretching lazily. “Well, I can’t have you getting a big head, can I?”

Sunghoon shook his head, his lips curling into that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Too late for that.”

It was easy. Too easy. Maybe that’s why you let it keep happening.

Behind closed doors, there was no restraint. It didn’t matter if it was your place or his—once the door was closed, your hands were on his neck, his lips found your skin, and clothes barely made it past the foyer before being discarded.

Sunghoon was incredible in bed. He was controlled, precise, yet somehow still desperate when he kissed you, when he pressed you against the mattress, when he groaned your name like it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. And you? You had mastered the art of making him unravel.

You knew exactly what made him weak, how to turn his composure into incoherence, how to make him grip your waist a little harder or breathe your name in a way that made your stomach flip. It was exhilarating, effortless—two people who just fit perfectly when it came to this.

But outside? You were mere acquaintances.

A nod in the hallway. A fleeting smile across the quad. If you happened to pass each other at a party, he’d tip his cup in your direction, and you’d lift a brow in acknowledgment. No one knew. No one suspected a thing. And you liked it better that way. You were both civil and could control your urges.

Except for when you couldn’t.

Like now.

You were leaving class when Sunghoon caught your wrist, pulling you into an empty lecture hall.

“What—”

He kissed you before you could finish, his hands already gripping your hips, pressing you against the nearest desk. The kiss was hot, urgent, like he had been holding back all day.

“Wow, I think you missed me a little,” you teased when he finally pulled away, breathless.

Sunghoon scoffed, but his fingers traced the sleeve of your dress like he wasn’t done with you yet. “You should wear this more often.”

You smirked. “What? Hoon, you did not pull me in here just because I’m wearing a dress.”

“It’s a really nice dress,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck. His hand slipped under your dress, squeezing your thighs firmly. When the familiar warmth started creeping up your chest, you held his hand to stop him.

“This is not a good idea,” you told him, smiling at the puppy-like look on his face.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he regretted his own impulse. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then you heard the sound of voices just outside the door.

In an instant, Sunghoon stepped back, running a hand through his hair like nothing had happened. You casually adjusted your dress. When the door creaked open, and a couple of students poked their heads in, you and Sunghoon were already on opposite sides of the room.

“Is this Professor Smith’s class?” one of them asked just as you spotted the same name written on the board in front.

“It is,” you said smoothly, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you strode past Sunghoon without so much as a glance.

Outside, in the open air, you felt his presence behind you, his steps easy and unhurried. As you reached the main path to the quad, he finally passed you, his shoulder brushing yours just slightly.

“See you around,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You smirked, not looking back. “See you around.”

But even with all of that, you could tell he was drawing a line between you. He didn’t have to say it. You could see it in the way he never texted first, the way he kissed you like he meant it but pulled away too quickly after. The way he made you laugh but never let the moment linger too long.

And maybe you should have done the same.

You didn’t mean to fall for him. You really didn’t. But it was hard not to when, in between the sneaking around and the mind-blowing sex, Sunghoon was just... Sunghoon. Nice and thoughtful in a way that made it almost impossible to keep things casual.

Like when the lightbulb in your room went out, and he arrived at your place with a new one, climbed on a chair, and replaced it himself.

“I was gonna do that, you know,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall, watching him screw the new bulb into place. “I’m just a little busy these days.”

He climbed down, dusting his hands off. “Yeah, but can you even reach that high?”

You rolled your eyes, but when he patted your head like you were some kid, you didn’t swat his hand away. Instead, you found yourself watching him as he moved around your space so easily.

Or the way he always refilled your bedside tumbler before he left your place. You didn’t even notice it at first, but one morning, you woke up, throat dry, and reached for it instinctively—only to realize it was full. Ice-cold. Like he had just topped it off before slipping out.

And then there was the night you were cramming for an exam, drowning in highlighter ink and frustration, when your door swung open, and Sunghoon walked in like he owned the place.

“I’m about to become your favorite person in the world,” he announced, dropping a thick stack of papers on your desk.

You blinked up at him. “What is this?”

“My old notes,” he said, ruffling your hair before plopping onto your bed like he had all the time in the world. “They’re neat. Better than whatever middle school doodles you have going on.”

You flipped through them, and he wasn’t lying—his notes were immaculate. Organized, highlighted, complete with diagrams. You stared at them, then at him, sprawled out on your bed like he had no idea what he’d just done.

“You didn’t strike me as a guy who took his studies seriously,” you teased, although you didn’t really think that way about him.

Sunghoon smirked, turning his head to look at you. “Why? Did you think the only thing I knew how to do was make your legs shake?”

You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t stop the warmth creeping up your chest. “Be real, Hoon. You’re not that good.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” he lilted, his eyes shifting back to his phone.

You fell for him because hookups weren’t supposed to be this thoughtful. Hookups weren’t supposed to linger after sex to fix your lightbulb or make sure you stayed hydrated. They weren’t supposed to look after you in ways so small, so casual, that you almost missed them.

You caught yourself wondering. Did he care about you more than just a hookup? Or worse—did you want him to?

You were at a café with your friends when his name came up.

It started casually enough—half-listening to the conversation while stirring the melting ice in your drink, until one of them, Lily, suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, I saw Sunghoon at your apartment complex the other day. Didn’t know you guys were neighbors.”

Your hand stilled, heartbeat picking up pace at the sudden mention of his name. You blinked once, twice, before mustering up an easy shrug. “Huh. Neither did I.”

Lily laughed, oblivious. “Right? He was coming out of your building. I was gonna say hi, but he looked like he was in a hurry.”

Across the table, Tammy tilted her head. “Maybe he was visiting someone? From what I know, he lives with Jake in a different neighborhood.”

“Maybe,” Lily mused, sipping her drink. Then, as if the thought just occurred to her, she added, “Oh! You and Jenna are neighbors, right?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know any Jenna.”

“Jenna! The girl who won the poll for prettiest student last year!” she explained, her expression turning conspiratorial. “She’s Sunghoon’s ex.”

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

Lily went on, oblivious. “Guess he’s still hoping she’ll take him back.”

The words landed like a slap. You almost asked her to repeat herself, but the way Tammy nodded in understanding told you that you heard right.

“Yeah,” Tammy said. “They were together for two years. I heard he was really sad when they broke up.”

Lily clicked her tongue. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did get back together. They were that couple, you know?”

That couple. The ones who belonged together. The ones who had history, real history—not just stolen moments behind closed doors.

You swallowed, forcing a small smirk. “Didn’t know you guys were keeping up with Sunghoon’s love life like this.”

Lily nodded. “Jenna and I used to hang out when I was still in the council.”

Then she started rambling about their history, how Jenna broke Sunghoon’s heart, how he never really moved on. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but your mind was stuck on every moment you spent with him. The way he pulled you closer in his sleep, how he never let you walk home alone, the way he looked at you sometimes—like maybe you were something more special to him.

But you weren’t. You weren’t the one he wanted. You never were. And just like that, the guessing game was over.

He didn’t want you like you wanted him. You were genuinely just a fling.

Still, you smiled, made some joke that had your friends laughing, and sipped your drink like nothing was wrong. Like your stomach hadn’t just dropped to the floor.

Later, when you saw Sunghoon again—when he let himself into your apartment with that lazy smirk, hands already reaching for you—you didn’t hesitate. You let him touch you, let him kiss you like nothing had changed.

Because for him, nothing had.

And if he didn’t know the difference or couldn’t see the shift, then you sure as hell weren’t going to show him.

Does it make sense to want your ex back and exclusively sleep with someone else? NO.

It was stupid. Sunghoon was stupid. That was what you told yourself every time the thought crossed your mind—every time you caught yourself comparing.

You never voiced it out loud, though. Not to your friends, because Sunghoon was popular, and they’d pry if they knew you were sleeping with him. Not to him, for obvious reasons. And mainly because you had pride. You were the one who said you wouldn’t get attached—the one who laughed at girls who caught feelings for a fling.

But knowing better didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in.

His ex was his senior, a fine arts major. Pretty. Smart. Talented. One of those girls who just had it. The kind people didn’t get over easily. You told yourself it didn’t matter. If he wanted her back, that was his problem, not yours. It wasn’t like you and Sunghoon were anything.

And so the days with him continued to be easy and light.

You spent more time together, and the more you did, the more you noticed his quirks—his own brand of annoying charm. Like how he always picked up your keys instead of his whenever he left your apartment, or how he liked to roll his sleeves and ruffle his hair absentmindedly.

One evening, lying side by side on your bed, you scrolled through your texts, absentmindedly opening your chat with him. A dozen images filled the screen, almost all of them mirror selfies. Some in elevators, some in his room, one even in a convenience store.

“You like yourself a little too much, don’t you?” you mused, tilting your phone so he could see.

Sunghoon barely glanced at it. “What?”

“These,” you said, scrolling through. “Almost every picture you send me is just you.”

He smirked, resting his head on his arm. “What, you don’t like them?”

You huffed. “You’re hot and you know it, is that it?”

He let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto his side to face you. The glint in his eyes was naughty and suggestive. His next words, even more so: “Would you rather I send you something else?”

He was looking at you like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“Maybe,” you said, feigning deep thought. “Like a cat picture. Or, I don’t know, an interesting rock.”

Sunghoon snorted. “An interesting rock?”

“I like rocks.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re a narcissist.”

He only grinned, as if he didn’t mind the label. You shook your head, rolling onto your stomach, but your lips twitched when your phone vibrated a second later.

A picture. Of a rock.

You bit back a smile, and Sunghoon, watching you, caught it anyway.

“What?” he asked, amused.

“Nothing,” you said, tossing your phone aside.

You had never once felt insecure about what you had with Sunghoon, but after what you heard from your friends, you started to notice the little things. It almost seemed like outside the four walls of your apartments, you were nothing to each other.

You used to think he was just a lazy texter. His replies were always short, sometimes delayed, sometimes just emojis. But knowing what you knew now, you wondered if he just wasn’t interested enough.

The thought crept under your skin, making you overthink the things you once brushed off.

Before, when you texted him to come over and he said he couldn’t, you didn’t think much of it. But now? Now, you wondered if he was with her when he wasn’t with you. If he looked at his phone, saw your message, and made a choice.

Yet, you kept crawling back for more.

You were an intelligent woman. You knew this was foolish. You knew how it made you look. But it was fine, because no one else knew how you felt—not your friends, not even Sunghoon himself. It was fine because you were foolish only in your own eyes. There was no need for anyone else to know.

Despite the foolishness of it all, you were happy. You were content enough to be able to spend time with him, to be touched and worshipped by him, to know you had the power to tease out a part of him that not everyone had the privilege to see.

“Sunghoon,” you sighed, fingers pressed against your temple as you looked out of the car window. “We’ve been circling this block for ten minutes.”

You had tagged along with Sunghoon on a quick trip to pick up some pieces for his department’s upcoming art exhibit. It was unplanned. You were outside the campus after class when he spotted you and asked if you wanted to join him. Since you didn’t have anything planned for the day (and because you could never say no to a chance to hang out with him), you got into his car and let him drive without even asking where you were going.

But Sunghoon, as it turned out, had a terrible sense of direction.

“I swear it was supposed to be around here,” he muttered, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping aimlessly at his phone.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

He shot you a glance, sheepish. “Well, I meant it twenty minutes ago.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs. The map app on his dashboard kept recalculating, rerouting him to roads that either didn’t exist or led straight to nowhere. And when he finally admitted defeat, pulling over to rethink his next move, you both stepped out and realized something.

The ocean was right there.

Waves lapped lazily at the shore, the sky was clear, and the sun was warm but not overbearing—the kind of day that practically begged to be wasted at the beach.

“…Screw the errand?” you offered.

Sunghoon stared at the water for a moment before shrugging. “Screw the errand.”

And just like that, the detour became the destination.

The day unfolded spontaneously. You bought overpriced street food from a vendor by the shore, eating as you walked, laughing when Sunghoon scrunched his nose at the spicy kick of the sauce. He had an annoyingly specific taste in food and the smell, but he still let you shove a piece of yours into his mouth.

You found a little souvenir stand and tried on ridiculous sunglasses, taking pictures of each other in frames shaped like hearts and palm trees. Sunghoon snapped candid shots of you when you weren’t looking, and though you pretended to be annoyed, you never asked him to stop.

At some point, the tide crept in, and you played a round of rock, paper, scissors and dared the loser to get into the water. You weren’t even surprised when you lost. You sucked at this game.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you grumbled, kicking your sandals off. “By myself, no less.”

“Hey, it’s a game. We both agreed to this,” he retorted, stepping back. “And I can’t go in there. I’m wearing jeans.”

“And I’m wearing a skirt,” you countered, already wading in, your hem darkening as the waves reached you.

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, probably wondering if you were actually sulking over a punishment you’d happily agreed to before you lost the game. Of course, you weren’t, but it was fun to tease him and see what he’d do.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said after the scowl never left your face. In a moment of impulsive surrender, he walked straight in after you, the water soaking up his pants. You’re actually unbelievable,” he added, shaking his head as the chill hit him.

You grinned triumphantly, making him brush his hair back in playful exasperation. Then, shaking his head in defeat, he said, “I knew it. It was a farce. You knew I was gonna give in!”

“You fell for it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t blame me,” you added, flicking water at him.

Sunghoon blinked at you, unimpressed, before flicking some back with just the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, come on,” you taunted. “Is that the best you can do?”

His eyes narrowed slightly—just enough of a warning before he sent a full splash your way, drenching your arms. You gasped, stumbling back with a laugh.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you shot back, scooping up water with both hands and throwing it right at his chest.

He retaliated, sending another wave toward you, and suddenly it was war. One splash turned into another, then another, until you were both breathless, clothes sticking to your skin, hair a mess.

Sunghoon pushed his dripping bangs back with a huff. “This is your fault,” he said, smiling his usual warm and blinding smile—the smile that made his eyes crinkle, the smile that revealed dimples carving deep into his cheeks, the smile that could make anyone think Sunghoon had never forced a grin in his life.

He was beautiful, and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper, with no way out. You were falling so deep that it made your heart ache a little—the way you liked him, the way you wanted him to be yours, the way you wished today could last forever.

As the sky started to turn amber, you collapsed onto the sand, watching the sun lower itself into the horizon.

The waves rolled in, steady and endless, curling at the shore. The air smelled of salt, and the golden glow of the sunset painted the world majestically. You sat side by side, talking and laughing about random things, content to share the warmth of a single jacket.

Then, somewhere between the soothing sound of the waves and the silly jokes, the conversation drifted deeper.

You talked about things you never had before—about college, about dreams and ambitions, about the way people always say you’ll just know when something is right.

“How do you know for sure that that’s what you wanted to pursue?” he asked while you were tracing idle patterns in the sand. “What if you think you know, but when you get to the end of it, you realize it was the wrong choice?”

You looked out into the ocean, tilting your head slightly, considering. “I didn’t really know it was the right choice. I don’t think anyone ever really knows,” you admitted. “Not in the moment, at least. Maybe you just choose something, and later, that choice becomes the right one.”

You turned to look at him only to find out he already had his eyes on you. The admiration in his gaze was subtle, but it was there. Seeing that made your heart trip over itself, it made you forget, for just a second, that this wasn’t real.

And when he leaned in, when his eyes flickered to your lips and your breath caught, you stopped thinking. You knew what was coming. You knew he was about to kiss you, but somehow, for some reason, this time felt different. Like this kiss was gonna determine a major point in your relationship.

But before anything could happen, Sunghoon’s phone rang, jolting you both out of the trance. You both looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat like you’d caught yourself doing something you shouldn’t. Which was ridiculous because you’d done nothing but kiss him in the past few months.

Sunghoon cleared his throat as he picked up his phone on the sand then answered the call with a quiet, “Yeah?”

It was the committee for the exhibit and you watched him talk on the phone for the next few minutes, explaining what had happened and why he couldn’t finish the errand. By the time he hung up, the sky had darkened completely, and the air had turned crisp.

“It’s late,” he said, brushing sand off his hands. “You okay with crashing at my place?”

You blinked. “Your place?”

“Our old family house. It’s not far from here.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged. “Sure.”

The car ride was quiet, thick with the tension that had been ignited by the near-kiss at the beach. Neither of you spoke, but your gazes met every now and then—quick glances, fleeting and heated, before darting away like you hadn’t been caught.

Sunghoon was the first to break. His hand drifted from the wheel, finding your thigh in the dim glow of the dashboard, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. He squeezed, testing, and when you didn’t stop him, he grew bolder, pushing the hem of your dress up just enough to feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers traced your skin with slow, deliberate strokes, inching higher into your inner thighs and lightly brushing your sex.

The heat of his touch burned through you. While you sat there feeling hotter as your heartbeat hammered wildly in your chest, he remained composed and quiet, his face unreadable save for the occasional twitch of his jaw. He kept his eyes on the road, but the way the car gradually picked up speed as he stepped harder on the gas told you everything you needed to know.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until the car rolled to a stop in their driveway. He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of himself before stepping out and opening the door for you like nothing was out of the ordinary.

The lock to their house’s main entrance clicked, the door creaked open, and the second you stepped inside, all restraints snapped.

You barely had a moment to take in the house before his hands were on you, pulling you in, mouths crashing in a kiss that was desperate, needy, and greedy. He backed you into the foyer, hands mapping the curve of your waist, and the shape of your hips.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling, tugging, holding on for dear life as the heat of his touch woke something primal in you. He barely broke the kiss as he guided you further inside, not caring where you ended up as long as you got there together. You went past the foyer and the living room, but all you felt was the press of his body, the way he kissed you with the kind of hunger that made your head spin.

He pushed a door open, urging you inside but you hesitated, pulse hammering.

“Sunghoon,” you breathed between kisses, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Your parents—”

“They’re not home.” His voice was low, steady, but his eyes burned through yours.

You barely had a second to process before he kissed you again, silencing every last doubt as he pushed you inside the door he had just opened. When he clicked the lights on, the glow of a bathroom light flickered on, reflecting off the tiles and the mirror above the sink.

“Figured you’d hate the taste of the sea on my skin,” he murmured, grinning as his fingers grazed your hip. You were suddenly reminded of the saltwater clinging to your skin, and the sand on your legs, remnants of the day you’d spent together.

You swallowed, nodding. But the moment he lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, you knew washing up wasn’t gonna be the only thing happening in here.

You shamelessly ogled him—his bare skin, damp from sweat and seawater, and his lean build with well-defined muscles that you’d seen several times before but still found alluring. He caught you staring and smirked, stepping closer, close enough that his fingers found the buttons of your top.

“Did you know I’m good with buttons?” he asked softly, making you giggle.

“Yeah. I’ve seen your skills,” you said, watching him.

His fingers were deft, undoing your buttons slowly, teasingly. When he was done, he gently tugged it off, letting it fall on the floor. His hands didn’t leave you, though. They skimmed down your arms, and your waist, examining every curve like he had it memorized and wanted to see if anything was different.

The next thing you knew, warm water was cascading over your bodies, steam enveloping you in the small space. The spray soaked your hair, trailing down your spine, but you barely noticed because Sunghoon was there—his hands smoothing over your skin, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your jaw, his canines grazing your skin ever so slightly.

“We’re supposed to be washing up,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

“We are,” he murmured, his fingers sliding down your stomach, inching lower. “Just making sure we’re doing it thoroughly.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but it faded into a sigh when he pressed you back against the cool tiles, his mouth finding yours again. He didn’t stay for long, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, all the way to your chest where his kisses turned a little more intense. He sucked and squeezed, sending a pleasant ripple through your body that made you arch forward for more. The water drowned out the sound of your quiet moans, the warmth of his mouth making every touch feel more heady, more intoxicating.

When did he take off his pants? You didn’t even notice until he pressed his body against yours and you felt his manhood pulsating against your torso, hot and raging. He kissed your lips again, shoving his tongue inside as his breathing turned rougher.

“Turn around,” he rasped in your ear, and you obliged, finding yourself face-to-face with your own reflection.

You pressed your hands against the glass, your entire body tingling with anticipation as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your neck as you felt his tip prodding your pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Do you have any idea how you drive me crazy all the damn time?”

You were about to respond when he pushed himself inside you, making you let out a throaty gasp instead. Sunghoon stayed still, shushing you gently and kissing your shoulder.

“It’s alright. We’ve done this before,” he chimed and you could see him smirking in your reflection.

“You’re used to this, right?” he asked, moving delicately so you could properly adjust to his length and girth. “Right, baby?” he asked again, and the lilt in his voice made you close your eyes and nod.

“That’s right. You said you love it, didn’t you?”

You could only let out a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “Yes, Hoon. I love it,” you whispered back.

“Good. I know you do,” he chimed, gently bending you forward. “I know you’ll love this too,” he added before his hands settled on your waist and he started thrusting into you.

His pace was urgent, with enough force to make your knees weak each time he slammed into you. You didn’t even bother to stifle your moans anymore, letting them out completely, not caring if there were neighbors nearby who might hear you. You were lightheaded with lust, spiraling into the titillating euphoria that Sunghoon never once failed to deliver. Your entire being came alive and you were so caught up in it that you didn’t even notice your knees buckling underneath your weight.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened as he helped keep you up, pulling out to give you a quick break and to turn you face-to-face with him again. His grin was unmistakable, pleased to see your fucked-out expression. “So so beautiful,” he said, sweeping your hair out of your face.

He pressed you against the cool tiles, his lips crashing onto yours, urgency overtaking everything else. You gasped when his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you against him. The water poured over his shoulders, down your back, as he moved with reckless need, his breath ragged against your ear.

“More, Hoon. Please, more,” you pleaded, as if he wasn’t already ramming mercilessly into you making every nerve in your body dance in pleasure.

“You’re so horny for me,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers gripping your thighs as he lifted you against him. “Can’t even wait till we got to the bed, huh?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed into you, the heat of the shower only amplifying the sensation. “This was your idea,” you whispered, but it came out shaky, wrecked.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I know. But you want this too, don’t you?” he said, voice smooth as his lips traced down your throat. “You want me so bad. You’re begging me for more, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t answer—not in words, at least. But when you tightened your grip around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, he took it as confirmation.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours. “Come on, baby. Let me hear you.”

You whimpered when he hit a delicious spot, holding onto him tighter. “Hoon, you fuck so good.”

He grunted, spurred on by your admission. He was fast, desperate—like he couldn’t get enough, like he had to claim every inch of you right then and there. When he finally tipped over the edge, dragging you down with him, he held you through it, his lips pressing on your temple as your body trembled in his arms.

The moment was fleeting, but the desire didn’t leave just yet. You could still feel it in his touch even as he set you back on your feet. The moment you stepped out of the shower, Sunghoon grabbed a towel, barely bothering to dry you properly before he lifted you off your feet, carrying you out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and into what you only assumed was his bedroom.

This time, there was no rush.

He laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin, his touch softer now, more reverent. “Look at you,” he murmured, eyes tracing over every inch of you, dark with something more than just lust. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

Your breath came uneven as he leaned down, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, lower—each one dragging a gasp from your lips.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against your skin.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah?” He kissed the corner of your mouth, teasing. “Then take me,” he added, just before he filled you up again.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent, or desperate. It was slow, deep, and overwhelming in the most delightful way. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your face, whispering in between kisses.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” he murmured, moving languidly. “You feel so good. You’re taking me so well.”

Every whispered praise sent shivers down your spine, made you cling to him even tighter, and made the pleasure build until it was unbearable.

The night was young and it was not gonna end just yet. And so the hours blurred into moments of euphoric highs, fleeting clarity, and intense need to ravage and be ravaged. His name was the only thing you could say—over and over—until you were both left breathless, tangled together in the sheets, completely undone.

In the morning, you probably wouldn’t remember every detail of tonight, but you’d remember this—remember the way his hands felt on your skin, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. In the dim glow of Sunghoon’s bedroom, your fingers tangled in his damp hair, lips swollen from too many kisses, you let yourself forget. Forget the rules. Forget that this was never supposed to feel like more. Just for tonight, he was yours, and you were his.

The morning light streamed in through the sheer curtains, hurting your eyes a little. You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented, until the scent of Sunghoon’s shampoo on your skin and the warmth of the bed beneath you reminded you where you were.

You turned over to find him already awake, his arm tucked behind his head as he looked at you with a lazy smile. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

His fingers skimmed down your arm. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

A slow blink. Then, a scoff. “Liar.”

“It’s true.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as his gaze flickered down to your lips. “You drool a little, though.”

You smacked his arm. “I do not.”

His laughter was low and teasing, as he caught your wrist then tugged you closer. His body was warm against yours, and his breath was even warmer as he kissed the curve of your neck.

“We should get up,” you said, but neither of you moved.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his soft kisses trailing down to your shoulder. “In a bit,” he added before reaching to cup your cheek and kiss your lips.

One thing led to another and suddenly, you were underneath him again, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t bear to be apart.

The morning air was cool, but his hands were warm as they skimmed down your waist, his touch slow, and smooth.

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your lips, smiling when you shivered under him.

“So are you,” you whispered back, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “Guess we’re even, then.”

His hands slid over your bare skin, his touch reverent. He kissed you deeply, guiding you through the lazy tangle of limbs and soft gasps, dragging it out like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you finally got out of bed, Sunghoon had already dug through his closet, tossing you an old hoodie and some sweatpants. You pulled them on and followed him down the quiet hallway.

The house felt still—too still. Only then did you notice the dust gathering on the bookshelves, the faint scent of time in the air.

“This place has been empty for a while now,” Sunghoon said casually from behind you when he noticed you looking around. “My family moved a few months ago to take care of my grandparents.”

Your brows lifted. “So no one lives here?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I come by sometimes. I technically still live here, I'm just not here often.”

That made sense. There was something about the house—it felt untouched, frozen in time, like stepping into a memory. You walked further into the hall, your fingers grazing along the walls and stopping at the framed photographs hanging there.

You studied them, tilting your head. Sunghoon as a kid, bright-eyed and grinning, a missing tooth on full display. A younger version of him on a skating rink, mid-game, frozen in motion. Another picture—him and his family, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, and several of him in a skating rink, different poses, taken in the middle of a routine.

“You skate?”

Sunghoon smiled, standing beside you and looking up at the photos. “Used to. I was in the national team for a while.”

“Why did you stop?” you asked glancing up at him and seeing the reminiscent look on his face.

He simply shrugged. “I had to be realistic. I enjoyed the sport but I couldn’t see myself doing it for a long time.”

You bit back a smile. “You were kind of adorable.”

Sunghoon scoffed, stepping up behind you. “I still am.”

“Debatable.”

He tugged at your hoodie—his hoodie—pulling the hood over your head before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”

The drive back to the city was uneventful, the radio playing softly in the background. Sunghoon’s hand rested on the wheel, his other lazily draped over your thigh, tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of his sweatpants that you were still wearing. You were talking, laughing, stealing quick glances at him between songs on the stereo.

At some point, he cleared his throat. “So… what are you doing later?”

“I have a group project.” You groaned, leaning back against the seat. “I’m meeting up with my classmates later.”

“Right. Group project.” He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Sounds boring.”

“It is,” you huffed. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.” His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but you caught the way his grip on the wheel tightened just slightly. A second passed before he spoke again, this time even more nonchalant. “What about tomorrow?”

You tilted your head. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure. Just classes, I think.” You turned to him, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Do you wanna grab lunch with me tomorrow?”

You stared at him for a moment, then grinned teasingly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Park Sunghoon?”

His ears turned the faintest shade of pink, but he scoffed like the idea was ridiculous. “I’m just saying we should get lunch.”

“Mmm.” You pretended to think. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date.”

You scoffed in playful exasperation. “Dude, I was naked on top of you last night and a couple of other nights before. Surely we’re way past shy invitations for lunch dates?”

“I’m asking you to eat.” He paused, then added with a tilt of his head, “But if you wanna call it a date, that’s fine too. Labels are overrated.”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hm. I guess I’ll allow it.”

Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Good. It’s settled then,” he said, stopping at a red light.

He leaned over to kiss you, catching you off guard but only for a moment. You kissed him back, albeit a little confused. When he pulled away, he was wearing a proud smirk on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he asked, shifting the gear as the light turned green again. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to his lips.

One hour later, you reached your apartment complex, but had to you stay a few more minutes in his car because he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, kissing and touching right there in the parking lot. You had to forcefully push him away and remind him that you had classes and important stuff to attend to. Even then, he was reluctant to let you go.

After a dramatic goodbye that had him pouting as he drove away, you climbed up the building with a sickening grin on your face. You unlocked your door, stepping inside with a lightness in your chest, breathing in the familiar smell of your home.

The past few days had been a rollercoaster for you, with all the guessing and expectations and disappointments. But now, you were feeling much lighter, much happier. The good days with Sunghoon were all you could think of, playing back in flashes—the sound of his laugh in your space, the weight of his arm over your waist in the morning, the smell of his skin at night, the way he always left the bathroom mirror fogged up because he took ridiculously hot showers.

Tossing your bag onto the couch, you leaned against the door for a moment, smiling to yourself. Sunghoon was nice, but he always drew an invisible line. Not this time. You could tell by the way he held you this morning, the way he was reluctant to part from you, and how he’d asked to hang out with you for lunch—outside, in public. It felt like, for once, you both wanted the same thing. No second-guessing, no mixed signals—you were finally moving the same direction.

Your gaze drifted to the hoodie he’d left draped over the chair, his specs on your nightstand, and the half-empty tumbler beside it—subtle proofs that he’d started leaving pieces of himself behind. You wondered if he even realized it.

And more than that, you wondered where this would go next.

The next morning, you woke up too early. Way too early.

You groaned into your pillow, rolling onto your back as you stared at the ceiling. It was ridiculous. You’d seen Sunghoon plenty of times before—hung out, spent nights together, and shared more than just passing glances. But the idea of today, of a proper lunch date, had you wide awake before the sun was even fully up. Maybe it was because, for once, you weren’t just meeting up in the comfort of your apartment or his. It would be something different. Something real.

You giggled at the thought, covering your face with your blanket and then flailing your arms and legs.

Admitting that to yourself felt embarrassing, so you dragged yourself out of bed and decided to be productive. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make the most of it.

A jog around the neighborhood. A quick stop at the store. And before you knew it, you were back in your apartment, unpacking groceries and deciding, on a whim, to actually cook breakfast. When was the last time you did that? You couldn’t even remember.

By the time you arrived on campus, you were still riding the high of a morning well-spent. Your good mood didn’t go unnoticed—your friends picked up on it immediately, teasing you about the extra bounce in your step. You brushed them off with the excuse of getting enough sleep, but they weren’t wrong. Everything just felt lighter today.

Even classes didn’t seem so unbearable. You participated. You took notes. You weren’t counting down the minutes to leave—well, not exactly. But the closer lunchtime got, the more restless you became, checking your phone every so often even though you knew you were the only one keeping track of time this obsessively.

Then, just as you were leaving your last morning class, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: Hey pretty. Something came up. I can’t do lunch today. I’m sorry. Sunghoon: I’ll make it up to you later tonight, okay?

Your steps slowed, but you kept moving, staring at the text longer than necessary.

Bummed. That was the best way to describe it. You weren’t mad—plans get canceled all the time, and at least he let you know ahead of time—but disappointment still settled in the pit of your stomach. You took a breath, shook it off, and responded with a simple, It’s fine. See you later.

Lunch with your friends helped a little. You laughed, caught up on random gossip, and even let them drag you to a café afterward. You weren’t dwelling on it. Really, you weren’t.

Until you stepped out of the café and saw him. Sunghoon, standing outside the campus gates. And he wasn’t alone.

Jenna was with him.

You stopped in your tracks, heart lurching in a way you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t just that he was there, but the way he was standing close to her, the way she was talking, nudging his arm like she had every right to be in his space.

Sunghoon must have felt someone staring at him because he glanced your way and saw you. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he greeted you casually, like nothing was out of the ordinary. But you didn’t even know how to react. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. You walked past him, barely sparing a glance, pretending as if you weren’t close. As if he was just someone you barely knew.

Your friends who saw that were confused, following behind you after quick greetings to both Sunghoon and Jenna.

Tammy caught up to you, nudged your arm, and asked, “Where are you running off to after ignoring Sunghoon like that?”

“I wasn’t ignoring anyone,” you muttered.

“You totally were,” Lily chimed in, linking arms with you as she leaned to speak in a quieter voice. “That’s so fishy. What’s going on?”

You didn’t respond, your mind too muddled to even try and come up with a good answer. As you rounded the corner, your phone buzzed a second later.

Sunghoon: Hey. What was that?

You ignored it, as well as the other messages that followed.

The rest of the afternoon slipped through your fingers in a haze of self-pity. You curled up on the couch, aimlessly flipping through movies, but nothing got your attention. The voices blurred together, scenes passed without meaning. You weren’t devastated. You weren’t heartbroken. You were just... mad. Annoyed that after everything, after how good things had been, this was what it came down to. But getting worked up wouldn’t do anything. So, you forced yourself to let it go.

Or at least, you tried. It was impossible when he kept creeping into your thoughts—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you just yesterday—like he wanted this as much as you did.

You didn’t even realize you had dozed off until the sound of your phone ringing jolted you awake.

You blinked against the glow of the screen. Sunghoon.

For a moment, you stared at his name, your heartbeat loud in the quiet of your apartment. You could ignore it. You could let it ring out and pretend you were still asleep. You could put an end to this charade, to tell him you were done and sick of it. But you didn’t.

You answered. His voice was gentle, cautious. “Can I come over?”

You should say no. You should end this here and now. Enough is enough. But… “Yeah. Of course,” you said, trying your best to sound normal.

Half an hour later, he was in your apartment, hands on you, lips on yours, familiar and desperate. And, as always, you let him in—physically, emotionally, despite knowing better. You let yourself believe that maybe, for just a little longer, this could be enough.

Afterward, you slipped out of bed, padding into the bathroom to wash up. By the time you returned, the room was dark, the only source of light was coming from Sunghoon’s phone on the nightstand. He was already asleep, his breathing even, his body sprawled across your sheets like he belonged there.

You reached for the blanket to pull it over him when his phone buzzed, the screen glowing against the dim light. Your gaze flickered to it, drawn by instinct.

Jenna calling...

Your chest tightened at the name. For a moment, you just stood there, watching the name flash across the screen before it faded into darkness. You could answer it. You could see what she wanted, hear her voice, and confirm everything you had been trying so hard to ignore.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into bed, curling up beside Sunghoon, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew what you had to do. Knew that when he woke up, this had to end for good.

But not yet.

For now, while he was still yours—warm, close, familiar—you let yourself have this one last moment. You closed your eyes and pretended everything was okay, even though you knew exactly what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. The space beside you was cold.

It was over.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. You had spent the night convincing yourself that you were ready for this, ready to end things, but the second you woke up to find him gone, the ache in your chest became unbearable.

Tears welled up before you could stop them. You curled into yourself, pressing your face against the pillow, sobbing into the fabric as if that could somehow muffle the sound. This wasn’t supposed to hurt. You weren’t supposed to grieve something that was never really yours. But you did.

You let yourself fall apart, mourning what could have been, whispering prayers into the silence that it didn’t have to end this way.

And then the door creaked open. You gasped, jolting up, eyes red and blurry as Sunghoon stepped into the room, holding your tumbler in his hand.

His brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes widening in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to your side, setting the tumbler down before cupping your face and wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Hey—why are you crying?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you sobbed against him. He didn’t ask any more questions. He just held you, rubbing your back, shushing you gently even though he didn’t understand what had you so upset.

After a long moment, you finally managed to choke out, “I thought you were gone.”

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, blinking at you in confusion. Then, to your utter annoyance, he started laughing.

“What do you mean, gone?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I literally just went to shower and get you some water.”

You smacked his arm, your face burning. “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, though he was definitely still laughing.

Something about his amusement made you snap. Maybe it was the pent-up emotions, or maybe it was the fact that you had nothing left to lose—but suddenly, everything came spilling out.

You confessed it all.

How you weren’t supposed to catch feelings, but you did. How you tried to push them down, to ignore them, but they never really went away. How you had spent so long pretending to be fine with this casual arrangement, knowing deep down that you weren’t. How much it crushed you to think that he was trying to win Jenna back, how much it hurt when he canceled on you, and how stupid you felt for letting yourself get so attached.

Sunghoon stared at you, utterly dumbfounded.

You sniffled, swallowing back the last of your tears. “Well? Say something.”

And then, to your horror, he started laughing again.

Your stomach twisted. “Are you kidding me right now?”

But before you could shove him away, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Hard.

Your breath hitched, but you melted into it, gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment all along. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice quieter now. “I like you,” he admitted. “A lot.”

You opened your mouth, but he kept going. “You’re fun, you don’t take my shit, and you get me in a way that most people don’t. I’m always looking forward to seeing you. To hearing whatever sarcastic thing you were gonna say next. To just… being with you.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t with Jenna because of what you think.” His hands slid down to hold yours, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “There was an accident with the exhibit setup, and I had to be there. She just happened to walk out with me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And the part where you’re trying to get back with her?”

Sunghoon made a face. “Where did you even hear that?”

You hesitated before mumbling, “A mutual friend.”

He huffed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t know!” You did, but you weren’t about to admit that you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting too much from him—like you were demanding something that was never part of your deal.

Sunghoon sighed, squeezing your hands. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I only have eyes for you.” His lips quirked. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t realize how much I liked you at first, but ever since we started this, I haven’t thought about anyone else.”

Your heart stuttered.

Then he smirked. “I thought we had an understanding. Did we really need a label for it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Right. Labels are overrated.”

Sunghoon kissed you deeply, and this time, you returned it with the same amount of sweet abandon. Then he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he murmured. “And right now, I’m wondering if you’d wanna be mine too.”

You let out a sharp breath, your chest tightening at his words. For a second, you just stared at him—his dark eyes searching yours, his expression completely open, completely vulnerable.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head with an exasperated laugh.

“For fuck's sake, Sunghoon.” You squeezed his hands, tugging him just a little closer. “I’m already yours.”

His lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else, stealing the last of your breath, and this time, you didn’t hold anything back.

[fin]

#sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x female reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen au #enha x reader #enhypen

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witchywcmans · 1 year ago

Text

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious.

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly.

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.”

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced.

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor. “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment. Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface.

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface.

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit.

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake.

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?”

#my fics #fic: please eat #laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios x reader #laios touden x reader smut #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #one shot: please eat

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dearmisshoney · 3 months ago

Text

caught red-handed (and rock hard)

synopsis. when theo sneaks into your room looking for a charger, he finds something way more interesting — your provocative polaroids. caught in the act, he might as well make the best of it. one thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're both tangled in a mess of teasing, dirty words, and desperate grinding. if you thought he was only good at pissing you off, well… think again.

pairing. brother’s bsf! theodore nott x reader

content/mdni. fem!reader, brother’s best friend!theo nott, dry-humping, enemies-to-lovers tension, degradation & teasing, slight praise (but mostly just theo being a cocky bastard), tit worship (theo is OBSESSED), rough sex, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it tho!!), dirty talk, name-calling (bella, slut, amore), overstimulation & slight dumbification (?), theo begging because he’s down BAD, messy, desperate, absolutely filthy

word count. 3.2k

a/n. first time writing! english is not my first language, so sorry for that! special thanks to my lovely ari (@nottsangel) for encouraging me to write and for making my (horny) gears turn in my head with her sexy blog! <3

aftermath | more brother's bsf! theo

“stop moving, jackass!” theo hissed, tightening the grasp on mattheo’s limp arm around his shoulders to steady his body. “where the fuck are your keys, mate?” he mumbled again, digging his other hand deeper in mattheo’s front pockets. it was just his luck that mattheo drank himself dumb and, as the ever-caring friend he was, theo had to drag him back to his house.

“hic– dig a little lower, sweetheart, and you will find the treasure itsel—” mattheo started seductively, and it was clear he was completely gone out of this world. whatever fantasy he was living right now, theo was having none of it. a nice and hard step on his shoe made mattheo frown and moan in pain, his dreams shattered. it also made the key to the front door magically slip into theo’s hand.

finally, he could leave this fool and go to his own place in peace.

luckily for theo, it seemed that you were nowhere to be found. probably out at a party, just like the two of them were minutes ago, perhaps drunk out of your mind, or possibly already snoozing on one of your friend’s couch, already blacked-out. not that he cared what your situation was, really.

dropping mattheo’s heavy body on his bed, theodore contemplated helping him out of his clothes, but when mattheo started calling him sweetheart again and threatening him with a good time, he swiftly stepped away from the bed.

“where’s your charger, mate?” he asked, more or less to himself, aware that his bloke of a friend was too drunk to answer him. looking around his cluttered desk and messy carpet, theo searched for any sign of a cable, but nothing of the sorts was to be found.

that stuck-up brat might have one, he thought, and that’s how theo found his way to your room. he knew the path like the back of his hand, and even after the few drinks he had, his stride was confident and unwavering. he has been there on multiple occasions, mostly running little errands for your lazy brother, yet he also beelined for your room on those days when he wanted to pour his frustration out on a seemingly innocent victim. seemingly, as you also do your best — or worst, in that case — to annoy the shit out of nott every time he stopped by your house.

“she’s definitely out.” he sighed as he sneaked into your room, door immediately bumping into a pile of clothes you’ve left on the floor while picking the perfect outfit for your outing.

the familiar aroma of your perfume entered his nostrils at a similarly fast rate, and he inhaled in deeply without even a second thought. he always loved the way you smell, and it pissed him the fuck off. it was sweet, but not too sweet; it was mature, erotic — yet not too vulgar; it was a mystery to him why he found himself attracted to your fragrance every time he registered it.

“looks like someone will have the surprise of their life.”

theo chuckled as he zeroed into the garments on the bed, three sets of bras all scattered aimlessly all over the sheets. no bra, something you usually do, and something theo can’t help but appreciate. be it your own comfort or simply your disregard for external opinions, he was glad you ditched bras on a daily basis. indeed, you make his blood boil with your bitchy remarks and spoiled attitude, but the sight of your freed tits under whatever excuse of a shirt you choose that day instantly rewires and redirects that blood lower and lower to his cock.

too bad he won’t see you tonight.

“charger.” he promptly reminds himself as he redirected his attention to your desk, full with opened make-ups and all sorts of products. messy just like her brother. and, by the looks of it, charge-less just like him. such a big desk, yet no charger for poor theodore’s phone. he was already on enemy territory, so he might as well check your drawers for it, just in case.

holy fucking shit.

no charger in your top drawer, but something even better. something he would have never imagine stumbling upon while searching for a mere cable.

very suggestive polaroid pictures. of you. in lingerie.

they were nicely stacked in the very far corner of the drawer, almost like your basic game cards. but nothing about them was basic– fuck, you looked so pretty, and so hot in them. even under the shitty light of the lamppost outside your window.

theo didn’t think twice and immediately turned on the colorful lamp on your desk, the glossy finish of the polaroids now displayed under a soft pink light.

you were so radiant, so confident, and with each and every picture he uncovered, he was sure it was all a dream he’s having while passed out at enzo’s house. he can’t get this lucky on a random wednesday like this.

oh, but he was about to get even luckier, as he finally arrived at the section where you started taking some of your garments off. the view of your bare tits, barely cupped by your palms, pushed forward into the camera lens, made theo let out a needy groan. and, as if the universe was listening to his thoughts, the next one was an even closer shot of the same position, red lips and soft boobs filling the whole picture frame.

if he thought about stealing a couple of the other ones before, he was for sure taking this one and putting it in his wallet.

his fingers gripped the edge of the polaroid tightly, and all he could think about was seeing such a view live. to have your perfect tits in his hands, to cup and squeeze and push them together. to leave wet kisses all over your skin, to place a big bite right on your sternum, to bury his face between them. shit, to put his cock between them as you let him tit fuck you like the slut that you are. maybe you’d actually be nice to him for once. and even if you’re not, he’d just have to push your red lips down hi–

“what the fuck?”

your voice hit him like a truck. the entire lewd image of you completely vanished from his mind, now seeing anger wash all over your figure as you stepped into your room. he registered your voice first, then your perfume, slightly mixed with cigarette smoke, and lastly, your skimpy little outfit.

no bra, just as he deduced.

“the fuck are you doing, nott?” you asked, and in that moment he realized – you caught him.

not only did he break into your room — initially for a very reasonable motive, a charger, but he also rummaged through your stuff, stopping at your personal pictures and acting like a pervert. “have you lost your mind?” it was obvious you were mad; you stomped in your heels all the way to your desk, crushing all your pile of clothes under furious steps. just as you reached your hand to yank the polaroid picture out of his hand, theo beat you to it and raised it so high up, even your shoes did nothing to help you.

“you always posing like a little slut, bella?” he might have been caught red-handed, but he wasn’t the only one: theo caught you too. yeah, you were in no shape or form a prude, yet these polaroids were something even for you. such scandalous pictures, and, unfortunately for you, he now knew about them.

“you always dry-humping desks, nott?” there it was, that smart mouth of yours; always ready with a retort.

you hit the nail on the head with this one, pointing out something he has been doing unconsciously ever since he found your cute pictures. heck, his tent was still pressing against the edge of the desk, offering him some sort of pressure on his aching hardness.

“matty has a desk like this too. go live your depraved wood fantasy in his room.” you scrunched up your nose, disgusted by his behavior, and pointed at the door with your manicured nails. the nice coat of red on your fingernails were the same shade as the ones in the polaroid, and he was now yet again thinking of the way the meaty flesh of your tits spilled between your fingers.

“but i keep the pic–”

“no way.”

“then i am not leaving.”

you visibly scoffed at his refusal, arms crossing over your chest, hips bumping into the edge of your desk. “give me the picture, you, asshole!” you shouted, banging one of your hands against the desk, shaking the polaroids theo has been placing on it for the past few minutes. “give it back and get the fuck out of here!”

oh, if only you could see yourself right now. you were indeed full of rage, throwing daggers at him with your venomous gaze, but you looked so attractive. there was something about the way your hips were resting against the desk, the roundness of your body nicely elevated by the short skirt you were wearing. and your chest, oh lord, your tits were so tightly enclosed in that stretchy tube top, he could see why you decided against wearing a bra. your make-up was a little smudged, but he was glad to see the familiar red shade on your lips.

“get it yourself, slut.” and with that, theo pinched the collar of his shirt and dropped the polaroid down his clothes. did it stop around his torso? did it dip down into his pants? the only way to found out was for you to start exploring.

“you crazy bastard.” now you were fuming.

without wasting any time, you removed yourself from the desk and, putting all your strength into your arms, you pushed nott alll the way to your bed. “don’t move.” you ordered in a serious tone the moment he was seated at the edge of the bed; rebellious theodore nott would never listen to your whiny little commands though, so, of course, he tried to stand from his seat.

“are you stupid, nott?” and with that you pushed him all the way down onto his back, nicely seating your own body straight onto his lap. “don’t do that shit again or i am sitting on you face next.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time, amore.” he had to bite back with that cocky smile of his, but he did not in fact move an inch again.

why would he, when he had you where he wanted you: straddling him, your ass on top of his hard cock, your wandering hands all over his torso, searching for that polaroid, your chest so conveniently close to his face. you were so caught up in your little detective play, you didn’t even feel nott’s warm hands leaving the sheets, sneaking underneath your skirt, and cupping the fat of your ass.

a moan escaped his lips when his nimble hands found your clothed cunt, one of his fingers slowly sliding underneath your thong, lifting it, then letting it slap back against your skin. the sudden action made you jolt on top of him, and the added friction of your body moving on him made his own hips jump upwards. gripping your ass tighter, theo manhandled your hips to his wants, slowly rutting into you at a steady pace.

“no, no– ah–” catching onto what he was doing, you stilled your wandering hands. one of them moved right on top of theo’s, a silent protest for him to stop his teasing and let you be. “d–don’t do that.” but you couldn’t lie to him, not after you whined so loudly at the contact of his bulge with your needy pussy.

“can’t work with a little distraction, hm?” god, he was so mean, mocking you with his usual arrogant tone like he wasn’t affected as well by the whole thing. “you seem to like it though, your hips are moving against me.” and it was true; your hips were subconsciously matching his rhythm, riding his tent at a similar pace, meeting his thrusts with enthusiasm. your poor clit was already so hard from him dry-humping you, and the rough material of his pants felt amazing with every tiny bumping.

“shut it, desk-pervert.”

“will you stop with the bloody desk? it was your pictures that made me rock hard.”

“you shouldn’t have seen them in the first place.” you were so so mean. you mean to say that he wasn’t meant to see your beautiful breasts in their naked glory? he must have heard it wrong, there was no way you’d say that. you were cruel, but not a monster.

“don’t say that, bella.” theo accentuated his favorite pet name for you with a sharp thrust, making you lose your balance and have your chest leaning more towards his face. “how could i live my life without your gorgeous tits, hm?”

“like you did until now.”

“in agony? no more.”

his words made your cunt sloppier, more and more wetness spilling through your sheer thong onto theo’s crotch. your skirt too gave up, already riding upwards on your hips and covering almost nothing. theo could see the way the shape of his cock disappeared between your clothed folds, the top part of his pants peaking at him from time to time with each thrust of yours against his lap.

“let me see those tits, beautiful.” he raised his hands and grabbed the swell of your breast, thumbling over you nipple to convince you to give in fully. “i will make it up to you, trust me.”

there was no denying it. you both needed relief. fast.

with a slight nod and eager eyes, the two of you removed your top — and more — in an instant. his clothes joined yours on the bedroom floor, and now you had no idea which ones were clean and which ones were due a washing.

“oh my fucking god, mi fai impazzire (you drive me crazy)!” straddling him yet again, this time theo had the honor of burying his face between your bare breasts, inhaling that lovely perfume of yours and mouthing at your feverish skin. moving slowly on top of him, now grinding your drenched thong against his bare cock, you allowed theo to worship your breasts like he promised. twisting and pinching each nipple with dexterous fingers, he got them up and perky for his greedy mouth to suck on. “they’re so soft and warm, fuck.”

“don’t ever keep them away from me, understood?” sucking a purple hickey on the side of your breast, theo looked up at you with his blown-out pupils. was it an actual order or was it a plea? either way, theodore nott was whipped for your boobs and you had no chance of escaping his hands and mouth any time soon. “talk to me, pretty.”

“yes, theo.”

“good fucking girl.” he groaned from between your tits, his lips never leaving your tender skin as he started roaming his hands all over your naked body, desperate to leave marks all over you.

his cock twitches against your aching core, your wetness already mixing with his precum and making a mess all over his crotch and abs. the stickiness had your bodies stay glued together, aiding your movements atop of him; feeling every ridge, every vein, every little throb of need.

“you’re fucking soaked, shit.” theo couldn’t handle it any longer, stopping his assault on your breasts and pressing his forehead against your chest in order to ground himself. he needed to feel you fully or he might cum only from humping you.

“let me fuck you, amore! i–” he gripped your hips to stop you from moving, otherwise he might have cum then and there. hoping to finish inside you, he eagerly asks for consent. you wouldn’t say no, right?

“apologize for breaking into my room.”

even horny beyond compare, you were still holding that over his head. such a needy girl you are, yet you seem to be the one controlling the strings right now. theo, ready to protest, could only groan when he felt you moving against him again, letting the mushroomy tip of his cock hit your clit. and, the cherry on top, it even slightly caught onto your entrance on its way back, teasing him with endless possibilities.

so he begged.

“i am so sorry, amore. i am a bastard. please– ah! please let me feel that pretty pussy.”

raising your hips just a bit, you dragged your thong to the side and positioned the tip of his cock right at your entrance. slowly, oh so slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, your cunt warm and welcoming to the intrusion. with each inch swallowed by your pussy, theo’s eyes rolled more and more to the back of his head.

“you feel so good, fuckfuckfuck” theo was about to lose his mind over how great your walls felt against his cock. so hot, so wet; your cunt was sucking him in more and more.

and when you started bouncing on him, he was a goner.

“thank you, amore! fuck, this is heaven!” it could have been all the edging he has suffered while dry-humping, or the couple of drinks he had before, but he was extremely sensitive. his deep groans from before were sometimes substituted by high-pitched whines of pleasure and pain, a great addition to your own sultry moans.

“don’t stop, bella! shitshit” gripping your hips with desperation, he pushed you down onto his cock with more fervor than before, his own hips raising from the mattress and plunging into you at a faster pace. theo was using you like his personal fucktoy, slamming you with force against him, reaching deeper and deeper and bullying that sweet spot of yours with every thrust.

your bed was creaking with the intensity of your movements. your ragged breaths, your chanting moans, your wet squelches around his cock. all of it were increasing second by second, signaling that the end was near.

“look at you, amore! you were made to bounce on my cock.” dipping his head lower to your chest one last time, theo sucked one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. one of his hands sneaked its way down to your clit, rubbing tight little circles against it to make you orgasm.

“cream my cock, pretty! make a biiiig mess for me.”

his words pushed you over the edge and, with one last sharp cry, your orgasm hit you like a truck. your gummy walls clenched like a vice around theo, milking his cock for every last drop. his hips shuttered one last time against your cunt, his load shooting straight inside you shortly after. thick ropes of cum spilled into your pussy, some even dripping around his cock and down onto your sheets.

neither of you moved for a couple of seconds, just staring at one another and at the sticky connection between your bodies, heavy breaths and gasps of air filling the silence.

“i guess you got more than tits, huh, nott?”

“lucky me.”

#~ 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘳 #smut #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #brother's bsf!theo #x reader #fem!reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #slytherin #slytherin smut #sub!theo #sub!theodore

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lazysoulwriter · 12 days ago

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hands on him. - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: Pedro Pascal x wife!reader, established relationship, social media chaos, fans notice her always grabbing his ass in public (red carpets, candids, etc), cracky fluff, mutual obsession, chaotic married love

---

It started as a joke.

A harmless, silly little Twitter thread titled: “why is Pedro Pascal’s wife always grabbing his ass?”

And then came the photos.

A red carpet shot — your hand planted firmly on one cheek as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. A pap photo from a stroll in NYC — oversized hoodies, sunglasses, hand still there. A blurry fan pic from the Venice airport — Pedro dragging a suitcase, your hand sliding down to give him a squeeze.

The internet lost its mind.

“i wanna be THAT comfortable with someone” “she’s living the dream and i respect her” “me too girl. me too.” “pedro looks so unbothered and so FED” “this man is never cold bc she always has him in hand” “her hand is literally a registered accessory at this point”

The thread went viral in under a day.

Pedro found it first.

He was scrolling through his phone in bed beside you, giggling to himself while you applied night cream.

“What?” you asked.

He turned the screen toward you, smirking. “You’ve been exposed.”

You blinked. “What did I do now?”

He tapped the photo. “My ass, apparently.”

You laughed so hard you had to sit down on the bed.

“Pedro—! I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

He raised a brow. “Didn’t notice? Babe, you treat it like a damn handlebar.”

You gasped, mock offended. “It’s your fault for having such a great one!”

“Oh, I’m not mad.” He slid an arm around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. “I’m just saying — the internet has officially caught on to your behavior.”

“And what do you think of my behavior?” you asked sweetly, fingers already slipping under his shirt.

He shrugged, biting back a smile. “I think you better keep it up.”

A week later, during another red carpet appearance, a reporter dared to ask:

“So, what do you think about your wife becoming a meme for always touching your—”

Pedro didn’t even let them finish.

He grinned. “She’s got excellent taste.”

You? You just smiled for the cameras and gave his ass a casual, loving pat.

As. You. Should.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @kellyxo1 @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure @barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512

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6toru · 7 months ago

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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 !

synopsis. upon recovering from a recent breakup with your longtime boyfriend, you find yourself confiding in a certain raven-haired man who is more than pleased to show you the rhapsodies of pleasure that his idiot of a cousin failed to give you.

pairing. zen'in toji x fem!reader genre. age gap au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), slight slow burn, slight angst, ooc!toji (pls be warned), p in v -> unprotected sex, age gap (reader in mid 20s + toji’s in his mid 30s), infidelity, slap on the cheek (m), consumption of alcohol, loads of tension, big dick!toji, rough sex, cervix fucking, explicit language/dirty talk, fingering, squirting, oral sex (m+f), reader’s on the pill, creampiez, toji calls you “doll”, toji’s not a papaguro </3 + voyeurism & public sex (in extra scene)

wc. 16k

author's note. another repost of my work from my previous blog (chosai), and this is undeniably one of my top fav writing pieces <3

FOR THREE LONG YEARS, you genuinely believed that this man, Zen'in Naoya, was going to be the one you'd marry. However, one curious peek on his unlocked phone proved you wrong – terribly, terribly wrong. All those years spent on believing your mundane love life was due to your boyfriend’s grueling office job; often working long hours, and then coming home straight to the bed to fall asleep before waking up again and heading back to work — and all those messages proved your theories wrong. He wasn’t the workaholic he said he was, after all. The sounds of the shower running egged you to continue scrolling down his phone, feeling a myriad of emotions coursing through your veins; be it anger, dread, sadness, denial, and betrayal. You felt it all.

Trembling, you attempted to fight the tears as you continued to scroll; trying to retain everything before he finished his shower. Naoya spoke absolute filth in those texts, and you could barely believe it. There came the pictures of an attractive woman showing off her lingerie, thanking him for buying it for her. For as long as you were with Naoya, he had never bought you lingerie – he had never spoken to you so affectionately and lewdly compared to how he had spoken to the woman on his messages nor did he ever manage to finish you off, chasing after his release above all else. Your sex life was less than mundane, but you didn't try to make it a bigger issue for the overwhelmed Zen'in, so you relented – despite all this, you wanted to be understanding. However, you couldn't have been any more wrong.

To say you were flabbergasted was truly an understatement. For the past year that was spent talking about marriage and your future, your boyfriend had gone on week-long 'business trips' – to which you had later found out was a front so he could fuck his coworker.

"Ah, what the hell," you mumbled to yourself as you scrolled through his phone continuously, staring intensely at the screen. You then stumbled across a picture of Naoya, shirtless with a mischievous smirk. Almost immediately, you slapped your hand against your mouth; reading the messages in horror.

NAOYA: I'll come visit you tonight. You better be keeping that on by the time I arrive. I wanna take it off you myself. AIRI: You're getting me excited lol AIRI: Just come here quickly and fuck me already babe~

You genuinely wanted to throw up. You turned his phone off and placed it back on the coffee table; you had seen enough. Coincidentally, the sound of the shower running came to a halt and you could hear the faint sounds of your soon to be ex dressing up for a "drinking party with his male colleagues". What a fucking liar, he was. You leaned your back against the couch, trying to keep your focus on the television while you attempted to control the burst of emotions that were more than desperate to come out.

The sound of the door creaking brought you back to the present, and you snapped your gaze over to Naoya in his casual business attire. You couldn’t control the biting scoff that left your lips. He had the audacity to look at you, confused. "Babe? Is there something wrong with my outfit?"

Babe. Hearing that word roll of his mouth, smooth like honey, was the sheer equivalent of him rubbing salt on your open wound; knowing damn well that you weren't the only one he was seeing. You didn't know how long he hid this from you, and you were honestly afraid to know the answer. However deep down, you knew you needed to know. You reached your arm towards the remote, turning the television off. It was silent now. You returned your attention towards the male with a cold gaze.

"We need to talk," you said firmly, yet your voice was slow as you tried to maintain the stability within your emotions that were moments away from bursting out of your chest. The male rubbed the back of his neck, a dry chuckle leaving his lips; his sharp brown eyes averting from your intense glare.

"Can't we wait? I can't be late for the party. The guys are already waiting for me—"

"The guys, you say?" You interrupted Naoya, laughing bitterly as the beads of tears you had desperately tried so hard to control trailed down your cheeks. “Or, is it Airi?”

Oh, how you wished you could take a picture of Naoya’s face the exact moment his mistress’ name left your lips.

"What…?" Naoya’s voice had gone quiet, his eyes wide in both shock and horror. "W-What are you talking about?"

Even when caught, rather than admitting it – he still chose to act innocent. You shook your head in dismay, already feeling your composure crumble.

"There's no use playing stupid, Naoya. It only makes me feel even more embarrassed for you." You said solemnly, your eyes clouded with tears. You could barely make out the facial expressions he was making, but just hearing his desperate excuses just added more to the ache that was growing within your chest.

"We'll make this short and quick," you continued. "After all, your Airi is getting impatient waiting for you in the lingerie you bought her."

Naoya gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed down at you. "You looked at my phone while I was showering."

"Isn't that obvious?" you bit back, wiping your tears. "Anyway, how long were you and this woman seeing each other?"

You wanted to smack him until his cheeks turned red, but you held yourself back. "Answer me, Naoya."

His facade crumbled and if you thought you didn't recognize him enough, he effortlessly continued to prove you wrong. He looked down at you coldly, sneering at you. It stung, you had never seen him make such an expression.

"And how is this any of your business, hm?" He said, leaning down towards you with a cold glint in his gaze. "In any case, this should be your fault. You can't even satisfy me in bed! Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone out to seek out for another woman––"

Smack!

The loud sound of your palm making contact with his cheek resonated across the silent living room, the satisfying sting egging you on to slap him a second time. "You make me nauseous. You're surprisingly very audacious for someone who got caught red-handed, cheating.”

You pointed a finger at his chest, prodding harshly against his sternum. You didn't give him a moment to come down from the shock of you slapping the shit out of him. "Fucking answer me, Naoya. How long have you been seeing this woman?"

He mumbled his words, at first. They were barely coherent and you struck him a nasty glare. “What’s that again?”

"Two and a half years," the male grumbled out, holding onto his stinging cheek before mumbling softly. "Agh, fuck that hurts."

You could hear your heart shatter into a million pieces; you could no longer control the onslaught of tears that escaped your eyes.

"Even while we had talks about our future and discussed marriage?" You laughed bitterly through tears. You shook your head, crossing your arms together. You couldn't believe you wasted your time on this man. But then again, good fucking riddance; though the ache in your heart felt otherwise.

"That's all I wanted to know," you said, before turning your back to him.

"You... You're not even going to ask me why I did this?"

"No, there's no need to." You replied quietly. "I loved you and respected all your wishes even when you were too 'busy' to spend time with me. Regardless of whatever fucked up reason you had to cheat on me, I know well enough that it's not my fault."

Naoya stayed silent, but you could tell he was feeling frustrated.

"You're most likely going to keep fucking your coworker behind my back even after we get engaged or even married. So why not just end everything now?" You further added through your persistent tears and sniffles. "So, from now on, go ahead and do whatever. We’re done.”

There was a tinge of guilt present in his eyes, but you weren’t going to let it faze you. “Hey look, Y/N…”

You averted your gaze from his, and you can feel your lips beginning to tremble once again. He attempted to reach his arm up to you, but he paused and retracted when his phone resting atop the coffee table began to ring, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You both looked over to the phone, and a familiar name popped up on the screen. It was Airi. You pressed your lips together, blinking rapidly.

You already knew who he was going to end up choosing. It was a no-brainer.

You sighed and turned away, “Just go. You can get all your stuff and leave tomorrow morning.”

Making a beeline to your bedroom door and slamming it shut, you plopped down on the soft mattress and all emotions that you tried so desperately to contain had resurfaced; stuffing your face into a pillow, you wailed and wailed — succumbing to heartbreak.

Bitterness swelled in your chest when you heard your ex’s faint voice in the living room as he answered the call. “Yeah, I’m sorry babe. I’m heading straight over to you now.”

The door closed, and then came in the silence — however, not without the solemn echoes of your heartbreak. In the end, he didn’t choose you. After what felt like an eternity, your tears had finally dried up, but you stayed in the bed that was once shared between yourself and your now ex-lover. You needed to get your mind off things.

So there you were, clad in an oversized shirt as you walked down the empty streets of your neighborhood, strolling over to the nearest convenience store with your cold hands stuffed in the pockets of your sweatpants. Initially, you thought that walking outside could’ve helped with getting your mind off of things, however, it merely did the opposite; a string of curses leaving your lips in forms of mumbles with each moment that Zen'in crossed your mind.

You didn't realize how quickly fifteen minutes had passed until you stepped into the convenience store, immediately greeted with the cashier's voice laced in both fatigue and boredom. Scanning through the aisles of foods and other necessities, you mentally pondered on what you wanted to get. Bottles of beer, was definitely on the very top of your list. Oddly enough, you didn't have the appetite for anything else.

Purchasing the bottles came by quickly, and you immediately dipped out of the store and headed straight home, your worn out slippers continuously making contact with the concrete with each step you took. Your mind was relentless with attacking you with thoughts of Naoya and Airi, the woman he was seeing behind your back – and all you could think was that you wish you had caught him sooner, rather than trusting him with all your heart could muster and let him do whatever for 'work'. Biting your lips and blinking your eyes rapidly, you had desperately avoided letting out your tears once again; your face was already stained enough with your dried up tears.

As if the universe didn't prove to you enough that they weren't on your side, the skies above began to pour. It didn't even begin with a mere drizzle, not even close. Within seconds, your clothes were drenched and you tried to rush to the nearest shade – however, much to your dismay, there was none and the only solution was to run back home.

Your socks became soaked as well as your shirt, which was uncomfortably stuck to your skin, running through the dark neighborhood with your plastic bag filled with alcohol bottles used as a makeshift umbrella in hopes that it would shield you against the merciless attacks from the sky; yet, it all ended in vain when you tripped over a small crack in the concrete, your body immediately making contact with the cold and wet ground.

Fuck me backwards, that was the sole sentence that went through your mind as you fought back the frustrated tears that threatened to leave your eyes. You stayed on the ground, feeling defeated.

Then, there was a shadow casting above you and the rain stopped. You peered up through your weepy eyes, only for your attention to snap towards a familiar scar on the edge of a man's lips.

"You okay there, doll?" A sudden timbre echoed in your ears, and it was almost as if the rain had actually stopped.

"Does it look like I'm okay, Toji?" You said through trembling lips, feeling the waves of embarrassment washing over you as you stared back up at the tall male holding an umbrella over your head. “W-When did you get here?”

"Well, no. C'mere lemme help you up." Effortlessly, Toji hoisted you up back on your feet with a singular arm, and then his eyes traveled over to your hands. “I was driving by and saw you on the ground.”

"Are you having a house party with those drinks?" He questioned you, gesturing towards the dampened plastic bag filled with the bottles of alcohol.

"They're all for me." You replied in a joking tone, albeit it was the unadulterated truth. The raven-haired male caught on immediately, raising an eyebrow at your response.

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked you, his voice resonant as he looked at you with a curious gaze before his eyes widened in surprise. "O-Oh – are you crying?"

"No," you replied to the older man, though there was a waterfall of tears dripping down your cheeks. You spoke through persistent sniffles and shaky breaths, and at this point you weren't even sure if you were coherent for the older cousin to hear but you could honestly care less. "I c-caught Naoya... sniff... c-cheating on me… T-That little shit!"

"That dumbass..." Toji mumbled under his breath. "Let's bring you back home first. You’re drenched all over.”

He hurried you over to his car, and the musky scent of his car air freshener immediately struck your nostrils the moment you stepped into the passenger seat. There was something oddly comforting about it, though. Suddenly, he handed you a spare sweater sitting in the backseat, “Yer shirt’s drenched. Wear this to keep yourself warm.”

You had been so caught up in your emotions that you failed to realize the vibrant colour of your bra peeking through the drenched fabric. Bashful, you grabbed his sweater and thanked him profusely. He waved it off, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Slumping against the seat, you tried to ignore the musky scent of his cologne present in the thick fabric of his black sweater and you wanted to smack yourself profusely for letting your mind wander off too far, however you couldn't help but notice how large he actually is.

It wasn't often that you'd see Naoya's older cousin, as he would show up to family functions once in a blue moon. Though, at first you had found him intimidating as hell, you later found out you weren't all that wrong – making small talk with the older male here and there, much to your ex's dismay.

"Actually, Toji... I don't want to go home, yet." You admitted shortly after he handed you his sweater. "I don't want to come home and be paraded with reminders of that man."

Toji paused briefly before speaking, "So, you're saying that you want to stay over at my place tonight, doll?"

You could feel the blood rush to your face; a warm incarnadine imbued on the apples of your cheeks. You were surprised you hadn't paid much mind to it earlier, but there was something surprising arousing about his resonant voice; something about it tickled your brain the right way. You tried to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander too far, after all, you had just gotten out of a relationship with his cousin.

"I didn't mean it in that way! J-Just drop me off home, then!"

"Whatever you wish, doll." Toji grinned teasingly before starting the engine, driving up the neighborhood through the heavy rain. “Anyway, I don’t mean to be noisy but how did ya catch that idiot red-handed?”

“He left his phone unlocked on the coffee table while he was showering,” you sighed heavily, staring outside the window with a somber gaze. “I later found out after reading his messages with his coworker that they’ve been seeing each other for two years. Two years and a half, actually..”

“Good fuckin’ riddance on yer part. I’m surprised that this man could last three years in a relationship, of course he had to fuck up and pull that shit on ya.”

You stared outside the window, feeling the heartache steadily returning the closer the car got to your apartment. Eventually, the car came to a stop, parked across your humble abode.

"Thank you for the ride, Toji. And thanks for the sweater. I'll make sure to return it to you once I get it washed." You said softly, looking at the older man with gratitude. He nodded his head in response, "Anytime, doll. Hope ya feel better soon."

Rolling his windows back up and preparing to leave, you stopped him before thinking. He paused and looked back at you, rolling his windows back down; meeting your flustered gaze. "Forgot anything in the car?"

"Um," you said awkwardly, feeling the heat returning to your face. "Do you wanna drink with me at my place?"

The older man blinked for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, "I didn't know ya were this type of person after a breakup, doll."

"Tojiiii," you whined, embarrassed. "I just don't want to drink alone and drown in my own sorrows. I need someone to talk shit about your cousin with too, you perv."

"Hey, that's yer fault for wording it weirdly." Toji shrugged before turning off the engine and leaving his car. "Though, I can't say no since you asked me so nicely."

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," you said, your voice soft as you walked out of the washroom door, dampened towel in hand as you made your way to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to the older Zen’in, though you made sure you maintained a distance. “It didn't take too long, did I?”

You glanced over at the male endowed with borderline Herculean features, and his eyes quickly met yours. Undoubtedly, you felt shy. You invited him over on a whim, last minute decision.

"Mhm, ya were really quick." Toji replied, smirking at your flustered expression. "There's also no need to be so shy with me, doll. Just think of this as one of our many small talks, but with drinks this time."

You nodded your head shyly before you dug your hands into the plastic bag, bringing out two bottles of beer. Thank goodness they stayed intact after your ignominious fall.

"Give me the bottles," said Toji, "I'll open 'em up for ya."

He made a come hither motion with his large hand, signaling you to give him the beer. Without thinking, your eyes stayed glued on his rough, calloused hands – you shook your head, embarrassed. Complying to his words, you handed him the bottles and he brought each bottle out, one by one, and opened them with ease; each movement was effortless, and a mere reminder of his strength.

He handed you the beer, and you thanked him with a soft grin.

"Cheers," you both said before drinking from the glass bottle, and a sharp sigh immediately left your lips. You looked over to Toji, who drank that beer as if it was water. You found yourself getting dazed, almost amazed at how effortless this man made drinking alcohol appear.

"About that idiot, Naoya," Toji began, swirling his bottle slightly, "Am surprised that guy managed to stay in a relationship with ya for so long. That man's never been the type to settle down."

You sighed heavily before letting out a bitter chuckle, "I'm surprised too, and I had to find out the hard way. Plus, he's actually out right now fucking his mistress as we speak. Funny, right?"

You let out a small grumble, taking a large gulp of the beer; ignoring the stinging sensation hitting your throat when you swallowed. Toji leaned back against the sofa, his dark blue eyes staring down at you as he continued drinking the alcoholic beverage.

"How are ya holding up right now, doll? I know damn well that breakups are never easy, especially with that guy."

You shuffled in your seat, you could already feel yourself getting worked up at the mention of your ex.

"To be honest," you spoke slowly, "I'm not as torn as I thought I would. I think I already cried all of those sorrows away, but I'm still heartbroken and bitter. Really bitter."

"Bitter? Do tell me more."

You took another large gulp, letting out another sharp sigh. By then, you were already drinking your second glass – feeling the heat steadily increase in your face. You slammed down the bottle onto the coffee table, an irritated expression plastered across your face.

"This man… hic… had the nerve to say that it's my fault because I didn't satisfy him enough in bed! Says him! He only ever chases after his own orgasm whenever we did it and barely… hic… lets me finish? What the hell!"

Tears were now rolling down your face, surprising the older man. One second you were showing anger and fury, and the next second you were slumped down on the couch as you drowned in your sorrows and heartbreak.

"I-I'm... I was never close to being his priority. I also… hic… found out that he's been spoiling and treating his mistress far more better than I was ever treated in the past two years…hic! How can I be so stupidddd."

"Hey now," you could feel a warm hand patting your back with an unforeseen gentleness, "it's better now that you found out rather than later. You deserve so much better, so don't beat yourself up too much."

The older man's words brought you comfort that you didn't know you needed. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, downing on your second bottle of beer. You didn't realize through your drunken haze that he stiffened up at the sudden contact, but he didn't budge. You reached out for a third bottle, but he stopped you.

"Take it easy there, doll." Toji said. "Yer gonna have a hell of a hangover if you keep that up."

"Don't worry, I am," you said in a sing-song tone, though you still grabbed a hold of the beer bottle. "I'll make sure to drink slowly."

He massaged his forehead before chuckling, "Well you’re quite stubborn.”

You giggled softly through stifled breaths, “I-I can be sometimes… hic. Wanna help open this for me?”

He complied to your request, and opened the beer bottle once more with ease.

"I know it corny an' weird coming from an older guy like me, but believe me when I say that the end of a relationship does not equate to yer worth or that the world is going the end. So, don't beat yerself too hard, better things are about to come." He then paused before sighing. "Ugh fuck me, this is how ya know the alcohol's hitting."

"You don't need to pretend that it's the alcohol, Toji." You said, laughing. "You look more than sober. It even looks like you handle beer like how you drink a bottle of water."

"Anyway," you continued, glancing up at the man bashfully while you drank from the bottle; your throat had already grown accustomed to the stinging sensation of the alcohol, and you could feel your cheeks growing warmer the longer you allowed your mouth to ramble. "I didn't know you were capable of saying such sweet things, Mr. Toji."

He paused for a moment before sighing.

"It's nothing," replied the man as he swigged the bottle. He wiped his mouth with his arm, exhaling sharply.

"You must've… hic!… had many experiences… hic!… with romances, Toji." You said, taking a sip from the bottle despite the persistent hiccups that escaped your lips.

"What makes you say that?" Toji responded, raising an eyebrow.

"You look like the type to," you replied and Toji laughed. “I realized just now… hic!… that you’re… hic!… good company to have around.”

"Ya think so highly of me, doll."

You looked confused now, tilting your head to the side – looking at the sinewy man deep in thought (as far your alcohol would allow).

"Are you married? Seeing anyone, at all?"

"Divorced seven years ago, and nope."

"Ah..."

You both drank in unison, however your eyes stayed glued onto the older Zen’in. You felt yourself growing more sweaty despite having just gone out from the shower, your cheeks warm and your brain slowly yet surely getting even more fuzzy. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed, but the number of empty bottles resting atop the coffee table was enough for you to know that it had definitely been a few hours. Your eyes thoughtlessly wandered to his lips wrapped around the bottle; watching as his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp he took, a small bead of sweat rolling down his neck.

Without even realizing, rather than your beer, you swallowed your saliva.

“I’m gonna get us some water!” You suddenly stood up from the couch, the sounds of your feet pattering against the hardwood planks echoing throughout the flat and Toji’s eyes followed suit.

“Do you need help with anything?” You can hear his voice from behind you, though he stayed seated, comfortably, on the couch. You shook your head in response, playfully pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you move an inch, big guy. Your host will take care of everything… hic…!”

Turning around, you resumed to the kitchen with slight staggered movements. Reaching your hand out, you opened the fridge, letting the cool air hit your face that was engulfed with warmth. You sighed softly, feeling even more relaxed as you scanned the refrigerator. Grabbing the water pitcher, you set it aside on the counter and your gaze shifted to the tall cabinet. Unbeknownst to you, Toji’s eyes were glued to you – though, it was mostly to ensure your safety, but he couldn’t help but notice how your shirt rode up when you attempted to reach the cups; your face flushed and your eyes narrowed in concentration. Silently, he took another sip of his beer. He wanted to slap himself.

“Ya look like you’re struggling, doll.” Toji called out, and you replied with a firm no. You shook your head, though you were really struggling – especially with your lack of balance. With one hand cupping the side of your head, your other arm reaching out to the glass cups resting atop the shelves while you were on your tippy toes, you attempted to reach even further but your feet lost its strength. Just as you were about to brace yourself for impact, a large and warm hand caught you; his arm snaked around your waist and your chest pressed against his well-built chest, and your lips inches away from his.

You stared up at the man, surprised before blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks; further intensifying the warmth on your skin.

“Shouldn’t have let ya do all the work when yer balance is already shit,” Toji commented, and you could only watch, flustered, as he extended his other arm to the two cups with effortless movements. You were unsure if it was the alcohol or the flustered emotions rushing through your veins, however you could feel your heart battering against your chest crazily and your cheeks growing warmer. You were also unsure if he had noticed his hand, large and calloused, was underneath the soft fabric of your shirt; his warmth radiating onto your bare skin. As much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t against it one bit.

“You alright there, doll?” The timbre in his voice brought you back to reality, and you felt your cheeks growing warmer.

‘Fuck, get it together! You can’t be getting these thoughts freshly out of a breakup!’ You attempted to reason with yourself, but when you glanced over to Toji’s concerned gaze, you honestly believed you were going to melt. This wasn’t your first time talking to the older Zen’in, having spoken to him many times in family functions or simply after crossing paths, though they were no longer than small talk. This felt somewhat different, however it wasn’t in the way you disliked.

“I-I’m… hic… okay now,” you said shyly, averting your gaze from his. Toji pulled his hand away from your waist, extending his hand towards the water pitcher and filling up the two glasses. He handed you the glass, and you accepted the gesture. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he stared down at you as he drank from the cool water. You fidgeted underneath his gaze, your cheeks growing even more warmer.

“Are ya feelin’ better now?” Toji questioned you, raising an eyebrow. You nodded your head slowly as you sipped from your glass, “I feel a lot better now, actually.”

“You’re lookin’ like you’re about to burn up.” He then commented before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead in an unforeseen gentleness. “Just as I thought.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it. “Let’s call it quits for tonight, doll. You should get some rest now..”

Unexpectedly, he ruffled your hair gently; his thick fingers brushing through your locks as you could only stare up at the man dumbfoundedly. You were just beginning to enjoy his company even more. As embarrassing as it would be to admit (when you’re sober), but it wouldn’t hurt to talk for even longer – even if it wasn’t about Naoya, anything would suffice.

“What about you?” You asked him, tilting your head. “Why can’t you spend the night here… hic!… and sober up?”

“No can do, doll.” Toji said, his timbre rubbing your brain in the most satisfying way possible. “Anything can happen since there’s alcohol in our system.”

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, looking up at the older man who looked like he had just drank water rather than downing two bottles of beer. Absent-mindedly, you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and he appeared to be taken aback.

“B-But… you still shouldn’t drive around… hic!... drunk.” You persisted, but Toji shook his head with a light chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing but a little splash of cold water can fix.” He said before turning over to you, tapping on your forehead. “But you. You’re a bit too far gone.”

Your fingers immediately went to your forehead, covering the one area that the Toji had touched, your cheeks flushed a bright incarnadine. “Still,” you grumbled softly, glaring at the male, “you gotta wash your… hic!... face with cold water before you leave, no matter how sober you may appear.”

“Alright, alright.” Toji cackled, shrugging his shoulders. “You can even watch me, if it makes you feel any better.”

In came the following morning, and you were met with the sight of a familiar blond male with his suitcases in tow. You had just woken up from the couch to see your ex-boyfriend at least fulfilling his one promise, which was to leave your apartment with all his things. You rubbed your eyes, disgruntled at the persistent ache in your head. You didn’t have a moment to hark back to the previous night when all you could feel is your ex-boyfriend’s sharp gaze cutting through you.

Naoya’s sharp eyes scanned your surroundings, “Were you drinking last night?”

“Why are you asking me questions you know the answer to,” you grumbled out, stuffing your head into the comfort of your pillow. Naoya scoffed at your response, crossing his arms. “Well, you couldn’t have finished all those bottles yourself. Who were you drinking with? And whose sweater was in your room? Looks like it belongs to a man.”

“All of that is none of your business,” you snapped, your voice still muffled by your pillow. “Are you going to leave now, or what?”

“Tsk,” the blond male clicked his tongue at your sharp response, “are you now sleeping with another man out of spite? You’re no better than I am.”

This fucking man ––

Now you felt awake, and you shot up from the pillow — sending your ex a glare that would definitely kill if it could. “I’ll give you another slap on the cheek, ten times harder than yesterday since you’re begging so nicely for it.”

Naoya’s gaze narrowed, his lips forming into a sneer. However, he didn’t say anything. He knew damn well that he wouldn’t want to experience that slap again, or a harder one.

“And,” you continued, feeling yourself getting more heated the more you spoke, “you absolutely have zero room to talk about spite or being a better person. Remind me where you went off to last night, hm? While I was drowning myself in beer, what were you doing? Oh, that’s right! You were busy fucking your coworker, and even spent the night with her!”

The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. Just hearing him open his mouth was enough to give you a reason as to why you shouldn’t mourn so much over the loss of this relationship, despite having committed so much of your time and energy into it. Frustrated and beyond annoyed, you massaged your aching forehead with your fingertips.

“You clearly don’t feel sorry for anything that you did.” You spoke, your voice stern as a feeble attempt to mask your crumbling composure. “Even mustering an apology would suffice, yet you come in and have the audacity to accuse me of sleeping around?”

You paused for a moment, your gaze locked onto the Zen'in. Furrowing your brows, you sighed deeply and frowned. “What’s even worse is that you don’t look sorry.”

As much scorn you harbored for the male who cheated on you, there was undeniably a tinge of sorrow and ache that lingered within the depths of your chest upon making that crestfallen realization.

Pointing at the door, you didn’t leave your couch but you glared at your ex-boyfriend. “If there’s nothing else you want to say, you can go ahead and leave.”

And just like that, he wordlessly complied — walking out of the place he once called his home after three years, a place where he once promised he’d make many sweet memories with you; all that he left behind now was a poignant silence and another headache, other than that bothersome hangover, that you now had to deal with. Staring blankly at the door where your ex had exited from, you heaved an exasperated sigh.

In the end, Zen’in Naoya still couldn’t even muster a proper apology – not that you were going to forgive him, anyway. However, three years down the drain was still plenty to take in. But then again, breakups that end on bad terms were usually much easier to move on from, especially that cheater ––

Ping!

A brief noise coming from your cell phone brought you back to reality – cutting you off from your lamentable dwellings, and you snapped your gaze almost immediately to the source of the sound; your hand grasping onto the device, your eyes scanning the screen as you silently read the message.

TOJI: Recovered from the hangover yet?

You absentmindedly smiled towards your phone; your thumbs already working on a response.

YOU: barely ahaha YOU: what are you up to now?

TOJI is typing…

TOJI: Nothing much TOJI: Did Naoya come by and get his things already? YOU: yeah,, he actually woke me up to ask about the sweater and who i was drinking with before he left YOU: i didn’t mention you though, but he was being a total headache about it TOJI: Why not? It would’ve been funny if you did YOU: you wouldn’t want naoya to hop on your ass about it if i mentioned you

TOJI is typing…

TOJI: He wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on me anyway. That guy’s afraid of me YOU: you’re hilarious TOJI: Anyway TOJI: Thoughts on getting yakiniku tonight?

You didn’t realize it sooner, but over the course of days –– weeks, you eventually found yourself growing accustomed to the older male’s company; whether that be in the form of texting, or simply going out for drinks or barbeque –– Zen’in Toji was, without a doubt, clouding your mind. At this point, the thought of the misery your ex had brought upon you had dissipated. However, you wouldn’t deny that there was a wall that was evidently separating yourself from the Zen’in, a boundary that he, himself, had implemented. Oftentimes, it brought you back to an older conversation that you had with Toji; him telling you that he hadn’t truly been seeing anyone since his divorce, which was seven years ago. Even sometimes, you had gotten struck with the random spurts of realization that he was a decade or so older than you; his little nickname for you, every so often, served as a reminder. However, there were moments where you felt like you wanted to cross that line, and whenever you looked at Toji; his lips slightly agape, swallowing his spit as he stared down at you with that gaze –– you were certain that he was thinking of the same thing. This unspoken, yet increasing tension could be cut clean with a knife.

“Here. Get some meat and vegetables.” said Toji. With his chopsticks, he placed the freshly grilled meat and vegetables onto your plate. “What’s on yer mind, doll? Noticed you’ve been dazin’ off for quite some time.”

You shook your head immediately before thanking the older man profusely. “My goodness. I didn’t even realize they were moments away from burning. Thank you!”

Promptly, you threw the borderline broiling piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with tears slowly forming inside your eyes. “Wow, it’s s-so good. I love it.”

“Somethin’s on your mind after all,” Toji remarked, tilting his head off to the side while his midnight blue eyes gazed into yours. You gulped, swallowing the meat silently as you grabbed the glass of water and chugged it.

“I promise you, it’s nothing really important. It’s just work.” You responded, smiling cheekily as you reached for the grilled broccoli with your chopsticks. You didn’t think you’d have it within yourself to tell him that he was all that you were thinking about – you’d simply drown in embarrassment before you could even utter a word! While you were chewing, you swiftly reached for the meat on the grill and placed it onto Toji’s plate.

“It’s bigger meat,” you mentioned, “therefore, it’s all yours.”

“Oh? Look at ya bein’ all generous, doll.” he immediately teased you, raising his brows as his lips curled into an amused grin. “Ya weren’t like this the first time we went out for yakiniku.”

“Since when were you so observant?” You grumbled out, fighting the urge to roll your eyes jokingly.

“I’ve always been observant,” Toji said while he chewed on the meat, swallowing with a satisfied hum. “But yer facial expressions make it so much easier for me. You’re not that great at trying to hide yer thoughts, either.”

You paused, staring at the man with a flabbergasted expression plastered all across your face. “Ya just proved my point,” laughed Toji.

You closed your lips and pouted, taking another bite of the grilled meat – basking in the smoky flavor as you attempted to fight off the skittish emotions that were about to resurface. Though, you were unable to control the blood that rushed to the apples of your cheeks; heating up your face. “Clearly, what I did just now was on purpose.”

“Besides, what do you think goes on in my mind?” You questioned him, but as soon as those words slipped past your lips – you immediately wished you hadn’t. He sent you a teasing smirk, his eyes staring straight into yours as he uttered those words:

“I don’ think it’s the right time and place for me to say it here, doll. Ya might get a lil’ embarrassed if I lay them out for ya right now.”

Instantly, you could feel your face growing even warmer and you averted your gaze from his. “You’re bein’ mean right now, Toji.”

Then returned the insufferable tension. You fought the urge to squeeze your legs together, worried that the older man might catch on and you reached for another piece of meat and vegetable, chewing onto those two in tandem. Toji stared at you, amused; his head leaning against his hand as he played with the other pieces of food on the grill with the other.

“You’re awfully easy to get a reaction out of,” Toji further commented, chuckling. “It’s cute.”

“At this point, you’re just doing this on purpose!” You complained, blushing heavily at his teasing and he merely shrugged as a response.

Time passed by quickly, and you were spent; leaning against your chair with your hand resting atop your aching belly –– staring weakly at the older Zen’in who appeared to be in no way affected as he downed the remaining food on the grill. When he met your gaze, he bursted out laughing; cackling, even, at your state.

“C’mon doll, I think you can handle a lil’ more meat inside ya.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, or if you’re making an innuendo.” You murmured, your voice course. “But I’m not taking another bite. I’m sooo full.”

“Ya pervert, I am bein’ serious.” Toji retorted, taking the last bite of meat before he gulped down his glass of water.

While he briefly left the table to pay for the bill, you stayed seated on the chair, staring blankly at the clutter left behind on the wooden table.

The more you thought about it –– about him, you were left with a feeling of anticipation that you knew wouldn’t be fulfilled. You bit your lips softly, trying to fight back that massive frown that was threatening to appear; you were certain that Zen’in Toji, your ex’s older cousin and nearly more than decade older than you were, saw you no more than just an eating or drinking buddy, or a young woman who was left heartbroken by his cousin.

“Now, what’s with that long sigh?” A familiar timbre brought you back to reality, your eyes snapping over to his.

“It’s ‘cause of my stomach,” you replied, laughing it off before you stood up from your chair. You glanced outside and down at your watch, “How long were we out for?”

“Hours,” Toji simply responded and you rolled your eyes.

You both stepped out of the store, ready to leave until you felt the sensation of small beads of water falling onto your face –– mere seconds later, it began to pour heavy rain. Groaning in pure unadulterated dismay, you both rushed to his car which was across the street; using your arms as means to shield you from the pouring water.

“I didn’t expect it to rain today, especially like this.” You observed, brushing your fingers through your dampened locks. Toji sighed in response, “To be honest, doll, I dun’ think I could drive you straight home in this weather. I jus’ checked my phone and it said that there’s a bad thunderstorm that’ll last all night and there’s also a chance of a small flood happening.”

“Ah, that’s alright.” You said. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“There’s an inn nearby and we can spend the night there, if that’s fine with ya.” Replied the Zen’in.

Your face flushed at his suggestion, and Toji immediately took note of it.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll sleep on the floor or couch – if there’s one.” Toji reassured you, and you could only nod your head –– completely and utterly dumbfounded with the series of lewd thoughts that began to cloud your mind. You and him. Together. Alone. You wanted to smack yourself. Genuinely.

You shuffled in your seat, feeling the heat in your face and between your legs worsen. You tried to distract yourself, silently immersing yourself with the music that was playing on the radio. Then the car came to a halt, and you stared outside the window. It was an average looking inn, nothing too special. Upon finding parking, you both hurried over to the entrance; rushing over to the receptionist.

“Room 261 is on the second floor, to your left. Please enjoy the rest of the night, you two.”

The moment you found the designated room number and opened the door, you both stood there flabbergasted. The room was decorated in hearts and flowers — even the bed was large and heart-shaped, and on the nightstand, there rested a fuzzy pair of handcuffs, condoms, and bottles of lube. Instinctively, you touched your cheeks with the backside of your hand. Yep, your face is definitely hot.

Toji covered his face with the palm of his hand, heaving an exasperated sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry, I should’ve known it was a love hotel.”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed it off, “they were being really discreet about it, so I’m surprised. When you look at the exterior, anyone who never went there would’ve also thought it’s a normal inn — totally not a love hotel.”

The moment you both locked gazes, you bursted out laughing.

“I-I’m sorry,” you giggled, “the fact that we actually got into a love hotel is crazy. Damn.”

“Just our luck,” Toji chuckled. “Oh, fortunately there’s a couch over there. The bed’s all yours, doll.”

Plopping down on the bed, you released a relieved sigh. “It’s so comfortable here, Toji. You should try it out, too.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, and a look of surprise was plastered across his face. “You’re right.”

The bed was large enough to fit the both of you, you pondered to yourself. Your eyes wandered to Toji’s large and sinewy frame, his back facing you as he fumbled with his car keys — his large, calloused fingers tracing along the metal ridges. Undeniably, his fingers were large — thick and long, even. For a brief moment, it almost made you wonder, in your uncouth curiosity, what it would be like to have his hands wander farther…

No. Stop it right there.

‘You horny, horny woman,’ you scolded yourself, mentally smacking your head as you attempted to hide the blush that was moments away from resurfacing. Briefly, you averted your gaze from the older Zen’in, trying to look anywhere but him — it was hard though, especially when this man was quite the eye candy. There was simply no way he didn’t not go out with other women.

The insufferable tension lingering in the air was another thing you couldn’t ignore, it had been like this for weeks already; naughty thoughts and reveries involving the male came to you nearly every night and as much you tried to ignore it, you still noticed the way he licked the icing off his lips after taking a bite from a dessert, the veins adorning his large hand as he gripped onto the steering wheel, or how his eyes would flicker between meeting your gaze or your lips.

This was driving you insane. Terribly insane.

You could feel the weight of the bed lighten, and you turn your head to see Toji standing up from the edge of the bed, making large strides to the couch. Without ever turning his head to face you, he began to speak; his voice had gotten an octave lower, it caught you off guard.

“There ya go again, doll. Are ya even aware of the expressions you’re makin’?”

“Huh?” You stared at him, dumbfoundedly. “What expressions?”

“Do I really have to say it?” Toji questioned, turning his head slightly to the side and tilted. Your eyes wandered to his lips, glued onto the small scar as he spoke. “I’ll sound a lil’ bawdy, but…”

He pointed a finger towards you.

“You’re lookin’ at me like you’re beggin’ to be fucked,” the man stated, his navy blue eyes meeting your flustered ones.

You tensed at his words, feeling a surge of heat overcoming you – his words paired with the timbre in his voice causing a stir within the depths of your abdomen. The atmosphere had changed, the tension was so unbearably thick; you could sense that his composure was also beginning to fall apart.

“W-What?” You could barely manage to squeak out the words, but the older Zen’in’s gaze didn’t falter. You were, undeniably, aroused – for god knows how long.

“I’m a pretty observant person,” Toji said, his deep and baritone voice ringing in your ears. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way ya looked at me earlier, and even the weeks before. Even now, you’re aroused. Am I wrong, doll?”

Your breathing had gotten heavier, hitching even. Was Toji that good at reading you, or were you being plain obvious? You didn’t know, nor did you care too much. Either way, whatever he said – he was correct. You were simply too embarrassed to admit it; you bit onto your lip, unable to come up with a response.

“You gotta speak with yer words, doll.”

You swallowed your spit, gulping softly. “I… You…”

The way you wanted to dig yourself a hole and shrivel yourself up into a ball. God, this was so embarrassing.

“I… You…?” The man repeated after you, amusement plastered across his face. You opened your mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“Ugh,” you groaned out, feeling the steams of pure and unadulterated embarrassment leaving your ears. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. You’re all I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”

You slapped your hands on your face, covering the roseate warmth that seemed to merely worsen as those words left your lips. Upon setting your pride aside, you had finally admitted the embarrassing truth. But, what would come after that? Would he be weirded out and distance himself from you? You averted your gaze from his, you didn’t have it within you to meet his eyes. As aroused as you were, you were also incredibly embarrassed – and even that was an understatement.

You felt his finger tracing your chin, lifting your face to meet his. You didn’t realize he had already made his way back to you, his Herculean build leaning close to yours yet there was, undeniably, an invisible wall that separated the both of you.

“I tried to think nothin’ of it at first, but…” Toji began, stalling his words a little.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you told me earlier,” Toji said, his voice low in a murmur; his gaze yet again flickering between your eyes and your lips. You gulped softly, your breath hitching in anticipation. “About Naoya not pleasin’ ya enough in bed. It seems to me you’re feelin’ all pent up now.”

He shot you a teasing grin, “Am I right about that too, doll?”

Your eyes widened, looking at the man in front of you in shock; your mouth agape and your cheeks flushed. “You…” You attempted to come up with a retort, but all the words that threatened to leave your lips had come to a halt when he raised a brow towards you, his midnight blue gaze looking down at yours.

“Judging by yer reaction, I’m guessin’ I’m right.”

“Yeah?” You riposted, biting your cheek. “So what about it? If you’re just saying this to make fun of me, then you can just quit… it.”

Your eyes trailed down, your words slowing down to a halt as you caught sight of the large tent growing at the center of his trousers. It’s big.

“I wouldn’t be sayin’ all this if I only intended to tease ya,” Toji replied, his voice slightly hoarse as he briefly followed your gaze. “But I’m glad it’s confirmed that we see eye to eye.”

“Eye to eye? Does that mean…” Your eyes stayed glued onto his bulge, and Toji turned his head away; a bright roseate blush tinting the tips of his ears.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s exactly what ya think it is, Y/N. It’s ya fault for being so fuckin’ cute.”

You stared back to his face, a look of wanton adorning across your face as you eyed his lips. Licking your lips, you gathered all the remaining courage you had –– cupping the older man’s face in your hands and bringing him into a soft and brief kiss, your lips locking for a few seconds before pulling away.

“I-I didn’t think you’d be seeing me in this type of light, either––” your words were abruptly put to a halt when he locked lips with yours once more, this time with plenty more fervor; his large hand cupping the back of your head to pull you closer, if it was even possible. Tongues, forthwith, were intertwined as you followed the male’s lead; his well-rehearsed movements harbored from the years of experience you forgot he had. His lips were on yours, yet you felt as if your whole entire body was burning up.

Your fingers traveled to his clothed chest, gripping onto the fabric tightly as you struggled to keep up with his movements. Without ever pulling away, he leaned closer; his weight slowly pushing your body down onto the mattress, a soft sigh leaving your lips the moment your back made contact with the comforts of the mattress.

The wet sounds of your lips interlocking echoed throughout the room, along with the soft noises of your whimpers and moans escaping your lips as Toji’s hands wandered; leaving every curve of your body untouched, and the tip of his fingers snaking underneath the hem of your jeans. You wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, your fingers dancing through his raven locks. You barely remembered the last time you had a kiss this passionate.

Eventually, you both pulled away; revealing a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips together and anything else that escaped your lips were harbored breaths. You kissed him. And it felt so good. Pressing your fingers to your lips, your eyes traveled over to Toji’s –– it was evident that his self restraint was merely hanging on by a thin thread. You bit your lips at the thought.

“You’re makin’ it so hard for me to hold myself back,” hissed Toji, wincing slightly at the discomfort within his trousers.

“You don’t need to,” you replied, your voice was quiet yet it was dripping with arousal. “I don’t want you to.”

Toji raised a brow at your words, but he couldn’t deny – those exact words did cause some sort of damage. “Ya sure, doll? I don’ think I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”

You sat back up from the bed, your hand caressing his cheek; your finger tracing the small scar ingrained in the corner of his swollen lips.

“Well, I don’t want you to stop either.” You murmured, your voice soft and you shifted your gaze to the tightened area of his trousers. “I can help with that, too.”

Taciturnly, you brought your palm to his lap, giving his enlarged bulge a soft squeeze; immediately eliciting a soft groan from Toji as a response to your sudden and bold movements.

“Y/N,” he muttered your name, though it sounded more of a warning than anything. You squeezed it once more, shooting the male a playful smile; your fingers playing around with the small metallic zipper before you slowly zipped it down.

“Can I?” You questioned him. It was clear you were ogling his bulge beneath, excited to explore for more; your eyes were wide in lewd curiosity, barely able to control the arousal and desperation within your movements. Toji found all of that, somewhat, endearing.

“Do whatever ya want, doll.” He huffed out. “But ya also got to give me somethin’ nice to look at and play with.”

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before they snaked underneath the fabric; the sensations of his rough and calloused fingers touching your bare skin – his blunt nails grazing your waist. You raised your arms up, and with effortless movements, he slipped the fabric off you. For a brief moment, you considered hiding yourself – a wave of shyness suddenly overtaking you, but all that stopped when you felt his fingers, once again, grazing your bare skin; slowly tracing over the cups of your bra.

Your breath hitched, and a surge of heat rushed to your face. This was it. You were going to have sex with Zen’in Toji. However, undeniably, you felt like a virgin around the older male. His fingers lingered across your back, unclasping the undergarment with ease; he watched, with amused eyes, as it fell from your breasts –– revealing your soft mounds. Unawarely, your arms rushed to cover your breasts – but his strong hands held them back.

“Don’t ever think about covering ya self, doll.” Toji said, his large hands grasping tightly around your wrists. “I love the view I’m seein’ right now, so don’t be shy to show me everything.”

You tried to suppress any noise that threatened to leave your lips, biting onto the skin; your body writhing underneath the man’s soft, yet teasing strokes on your breasts, most particularly your nipples. You leaned closer into his touch, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as his fingers teased the erect buds — twirling, pinching and pulling; your mind was going blank to his teasing ministrations.

“You have such pretty breasts,” Toji commented, pinching your nipples with his index and pointer fingers before he began to twirl the bud. You bit onto your lip even harder this time; your legs squeezed tightly together as you attempted to satiate your arousal in silence.

“T-Toji,” you stammered out, “I’m s’pposed to be the one pleasing you first.”

“I can wait,” he grinned, licking a small stripe of saliva across your breast. “I needa show these girls some love first.”

You couldn’t even utter a response, all that came out were stifled moans and whimpers — your hand clasped against your mouth while your other was nestled in his raven locks. Zen’in Toji was, indeed, showing them love. Lots of love. The insufferable ache building up between your legs seemed to merely worsen, not even squeezing them together was enough to satiate it. You were far too aroused — melting immediately at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensations.

Toji’s eyes never left your face; analyzing every micro reaction your face made, every single move he made felt as though it was rehearsed — a well one, in fact; effortlessly finding the spots that elicited the most delicious reactions out of you with both his tongue and hands. He cupped your breast and gave the mound a squeeze, and he eventually pulled his mouth away from your nipple; leaving behind a thin string of saliva that connected his lips and your skin. If you were standing, your knees would’ve already buckled on the spot.

Breathing heavily, you softly pushed the older male away from your body. “It’s your turn.”

You slowly lowered yourself, your hands tracing down his shoulders, his chest and then to his abdomen; your nimble fingers unbuttoning, thus unzipping his trousers. You didn’t realize you were holding in your breath, while trying your darndest to control your heart that was hammering rapidly against your chest.

“Breathe, doll.” Toji’s baritone voice wasn’t much help, but you breathed in — then you heaved a shaky sigh. Gulping, you took in the sight of the sheer size of his shaft hiding beneath the thin fabric.

By the time your hands reached his boxers, your fingers snaking underneath the hem of his underwear; you pulled the fabric down, slipping it down his muscular thighs — you were unsure if you were being obvious, but you attempted to stop your mouth from watering.

“It’s big,” you thought aloud, slapping your mouth immediately after. Toji chuckled deeply.

“For a woman who’s mostly shy, ya certainly have no filter.” Toji teased, lightly slapping his hardened cock against your cheek. “How cute. Do ya think you’ll be able to take it in ya mouth, doll?”

You flushed a bright incarnadine at his words, “Were you always this crude?”

Wrapping your hand around his girthy shaft, you gulped softly as you slowly stroked his member; up and down, up and down –– your eyes were locked onto his face, taking in every micro-expressions that the older Zen’in was making, though it was evident that he was trying to suppress them; he was biting his lips, though he still had that sexy grin plastered across his face. For the longest time, you weren’t aware that Zen’in Toji had this obnoxiously lewd side of him, and you also didn’t know that you could be so fucking aroused because of it.

‘Will he fit inside me?’ You asked yourself, nearing your lips closer to his cock. You licked a long stripe across his cock, circling the soft muscle around his tip before sucking on it. Toji immediately reached his strong hand to your locks, giving them a soft tug.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, “I almost forgot how good this feels. You’re so fuckin’ good with your mouth, doll.”

Breathing through your nose, you slowly took him inside your mouth; feeling the small beads of tears building up the lower you went down on him, your nose pressed against his pubes. It was difficult to breathe — he was just too fucking big! However, the loud groan of your name leaving his lips was more than enough as motivation to keep going; circling your hand around the area your mouth couldn’t reach, and you stroked his cock in languid movements.

Each noise — grunts, hitched breaths, or groans — that escaped his lips, you could feel yourself growing even wetter; a puddle of arousal dampening your underwear. You continued to bop your head onto his cock, drool dripping down your cheeks as you attempted to take him deeper. You knew you shouldn’t have pushed yourself too much — you could barely remember the last time you’d done something this lewd, but you couldn’t help yourself. When there was Zen’in Toji in front of you, feeding your hungry mouth with his fat cock, there was simply no way you’d say no.

The obscene noises of your mouth showing love towards his cock echoed throughout the room; your soft gagging, whimpers, and the slobberish noise your mouth made each time you bobbed your head lower made it nearly impossible for the older man to not buck his hips into your poor lips. The turbulent rainstorm showering outside had long drowned out — the sole sound of Toji’s little grunts and groans lingered in your head; hungry to please him even more.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” Toji grunted, his hands traveling to your breasts to give your nipples a tight pinch. You clenched your eyes shut, whimpering softly with his cock deep inside your throat; writhing underneath his touches, every graze of his fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink of insanity. You squeezed your legs together tightly, bucking your hips slightly as you continued to please him. “You’re pleasin’ me so well, doll.”

“Ah—mmph…!” You let out a surprised moan, snapping your eyes open to stare at the raven-haired male as he pulled and twirled the erect bud between his rough fingers. Your grip tightened around his hips, and upon pulling away from his shaft, you gave the tip a good suck — grinning at yourself when you felt Toji’s body twitch at your manipulation; his breath hitching at the shocks of pleasure rushing through his veins as his fingers’ squeezed onto your mound. A line of praises escaped his lips in the form of grunts and mutters, his hand cupping your cheek; his thumb softly stroking the tears away.

“Do ya even realize how arousing ya look right now?” Toji’s deep baritone voice rang in your ears as he bucked his hips into your face. He threw his head back, a mix of a hoarse chuckle and grunt leaving his lips. “You’re doin’ so good, doll. Keep on goin’.”

Continuing on with your ministrations, you used both your hands to stroke his dick while you pressed your lips against his tip; bobbing your head down his tip while your hands made twisting motions as you fondled with his girth. You glanced up towards Toji, awaiting some sort of praise –– and he wasted no time; the thrusts of his hips had begun to stagger and a loud groan of your name escaped his lips, coating the insides of your mouth with thick ribbons of white. Pulling away from his length, your eyes returned its focus to the older Zen’in; locking eyes with his as you swallowed his cum, feeling the warm liquid trickle down your throat.

Heavy breaths echoed through the room, Toji’s soft pants mirroring yours; his eyes gazed into yours wantonly and his fingers cupping your chin briefly before he leaned back in for a third kiss. Locking lips and tongues intertwined, he lifted the shirt off his body with ease; revealing his chiseled build. Panting in between kisses, your fingers trailed down his neck – traveling down his chest, and back up to his raven locks.

His hand trailed lower to your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping effortlessly as he pulled the denim past your ass; his thick fingers grazing against your cheeks, slowly snaking underneath the thin fabric of your panties — shivering, you rocked your hips into his hand when he slid a finger across your slick folds. His breath hitched a little, pulling his lips away from yours.

“I didn’t even put a finger yet, but yer drenchin’ it already.” He commented, and you could only watch — in both embarrassment and unadulterated arousal — as he licked your juices off his fingertip.

His hands returned to the denim fabric hanging on to your thighs, pulling them down along with the thin fabric of your underwear. Without uttering another word, he brought his hand between your thighs — spreading them open. Midnight blue eyes locked onto your bare cunt, his mouth nearly salivating at the sight of your arousal dripping down your hole. Glancing down, he was, once again, fully erect.

Extending your arm to his shaft, Toji had stopped you — though, not with words, but with the abrupt movements of his arms hooking around your thighs; pulling your hips closer to his face.

“W-Wait––A-Ah!” The moment you felt his tongue prodding at your folds, your eyes rolled back and a sharp moan escaped your lips; your fingers immediately finding solace in his messy, black hair. Toji didn’t seem to listen, however. His tongue slid up and down your folds before pressing his lips against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking harshly whilst flicking his tongue against it.

“Oh my––fuck! Toji!” You mewled out, arching your back and you could feel yourself convulse as he continued to suck and lick messily at your cunt. “T-There’s no way you didn’t sleep with anyone after your divorce,” you stuttered in between moans, “you –– mmph! Hah – y-you have to be lying! You eat pussy too good – AH!”

The older man grunted against your folds, his canines gently grazing your swollen clit. You writhed, your hips twitching in response.

“What are you on, doll? I never lied to ya. Not one bit.” Toji replied, his voice muffled while he continued to stuff your face into your juicy cunt. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt this typa pleasure.”

With his tongue, he licked another long strip across your drenched folds – humming in delight; the timbre of his voice sending vibrations onto your sensitive clit. You bit onto your lip, staring at Toji in lewd desperation while you bucked your hips against his face. The pleasure you felt was surreal; nothing you had ever felt before. It was addicting. You could feel the pressure pitting in your stomach growing warmer – heavier, more insufferable.

“I-I’m close,” you warned, digging your nails into his scalp and he let out a soft grunt, eating your pussy with plenty more fervor.

“Don’ come yet,” Toji said, “hold on for lil’ more longer for me, doll.”

You gulped, nodding at his request. Closing your eyes shut tightly, you tried your darndest to not succumb to the pleasure that was washing over you like strong, persistent waves. Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come! Your toes curled, your eyes opening wide in surprise when you felt his two fingers, without any effort, slide into your drenched pussy –– his fingers stretching you out so deliciously; your walls clamped down onto his thick fingers that were knuckles deep inside your cunt.

“Don’t come,” Toji warned you, and you could only stare at him with your heavy-lidded gaze –– too fucked out to care. You rocked your hips against his large hand, a string of incoherent moans and praises escaping your lips each time he fucked his fingers into you; his movements were fast and profound, eliciting such wet and lewd noises from your drenched hole.

“Hm–– T-Toji,” you mewled loudly, throwing your head back against the plush of the pillows; your hands –– one gripping tightly against the wrinkled fabrics of the duvet cover, and the other tangled in the strands of Toji’s mane. “Ahn! P-Please let me come. You’re making me feel so… good..!”

Toes curling, another moan ripped out from your throat, your hips convulsing as he brought his mouth down to your swollen bud –– flicking circles and wrapping his lips around your clit repeatedly, all whilst fucking your pussy with his fingers as if he would with his dick (in your imaginations); curling his fingers, a loud whimper fell from your lips, your hips rocking desperately against his hand as his fingertips would kiss your sweet spot.

“P-Pl-Please,” you could only murmur out, your whole entire body overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You could feel your eyes rolling back, your whole entire body writhing as he continued on with his ministrations – his fingers fucking you so well, hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy. His precise, yet profound movements were making your mind melt, along with the rest of your body. You could barely recount a memory where you came due to someone’s manipulation, often having to cater to your own needs to satiate the need for pleasure. However, now that you were experiencing it now; it was as if shocks of electricity were pulsing throughout your body –– your whole body growing sensitive, yet wanting more.

The mixed sounds of his tongue sloppily making love with your clit paired with the wet noises of his fingers fucking into your hole, along with your mewls and the male’s sexy grunts filled the room. The persistent pressure growing in the pits of your lower abdomen was growing all the more unbearable, a new, foreign feeling began bubbling the more you tried to stop yourself from coming on the spot. It was getting even harder to hold it in now, you swore you could feel yourself burst.

“Fuck, doll.” Toji said, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy clenching tightly around his two fingers curled inside you, watching your juices trickle down your hole. “Look at me when you come, ‘kay? Look at the man that’s gonna make ya come hard.”

You were completely under his submission, your eyes – though heavy-lidded – locked onto his midnight blue eyes; giving him a pleading look. He stared up at you, his lips locked around your clit and his fingers mercilessly doing their work on you. This sensation was something that you had never felt before – panicked, your fingers grasped onto his locks in a vain attempt to pull him away.

“T-Toji!” You whimpered his name, urgency evident in your voice. “I think I-I’m gonna pee!”

“Let it go,” Toji hummed, both his mouth and fingers continuing to pleasure you – edging you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Come for me, doll.”

And so you did, a loud cry of his name rolling off your tongue as your back arched; toes curled and your hips convulsing against his face —the warm juices spraying on his face and his hands, drenching his skin. A hitched groan escaped his lips, and he rubbed your clit with the palm of his hand; eliciting more of your juices to coat his hand while you twitched beneath his touches, strained moans leaving your lips as you rode out your orgasm.

“Hah,” you heaved a breathy sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling for a brief moment before you finally noticed the puddle you left behind after your release, evidenced by the dampened sheets underneath you. Blood rushed to your cheeks, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothin’ to be embarrassed of, doll.” Toji grinned, the gentle grazes of his fingertips lingering onto your soaked thighs. “If anything, it’s fuckin’ hot. Was it your first time squirtin’ like that?”

You nodded your head, suddenly feeling shy once more. “Mhm. I can’t remember a time when I came this hard — let alone came from someone’s touch.”

“Damn,” Toji said, biting back a haughty grin. “Didn’t expect Naoya to be that much of a disappointment. But then again, it’s not too big of a surprise.”

“I’ll make ya feel much better,” he added, a smirk adorning his face while his arm extended to the nightstand — reaching for the packet of rubber, but you stopped him; your hands cupping his face as you made the man face you.

“You don’t need to use it,” you said softly, your voice soft as you could feel the blood rushing back to your face. You glanced down at his cock, your mouth nearly salivating as you watched the girth jerked slightly in the air; a small amount of his pre-cum trickling out. You were right, this man was indeed an eye candy –– the most delicious one, in fact. “I’m on the pill.”

He stroked his fat cock languidly, his lustful eyes locking onto yours. “You sure about that doll?”

You nodded your head rapidly, it was almost foolish how excited you appeared — however, you were too horny to care. You needed this man inside you, desperately. Hooking your arms underneath your knees, you spread your legs apart for the older man to see — and he was instantly hooked; a hitched breath escaping his lips as he locked his gaze onto your drenched and needy hole — and your face too, looking so fucking lewd; the wanton look in your eyes begging him to fuck. A hoarse grunt escaped his lips, enamored at the heavenly sight.

“Fuck me, Toji.” Pure arousal was laced in your voice as you uttered those words, your tone almost pleading.

Just how could he ever say no to that?

A sharp gasp left your lips when he pulled your legs closer to his hips, his large palms pushing your thighs back as he aligned his cock with your needy heat. You glanced down, lips quivering in anticipation as you watched him further prep you for his girth. He rubbed his thumb across your folds briefly, a low chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re still soakin’ wet, doll. I doubt we’d even need lube at this point.”

He inserted a finger briefly before pulling away, laughing at how your body immediately twitched at his touch.

“You gotta relax for me, ‘kay?” Toji adjured, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaking entrance before slowly entering. Your arms immediately reached out, your hands finding solace around his chiseled back; your nails slightly digging into his skin, your body reeling at the stretch. He was too fucking big, and he only inserted the tip! The feeling of being filled up to the brim was incomparable to your fingers — you were going to melt.

“Relax, doll.” repeated Toji, his voice strained. “You’re suckin’ me in.”

He nestled his face into your neck, peppering kisses and little suckles; thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. Small beads of sweat trickled down his neck as he reached halfway deep inside you, relishing in the way your walls clamped down onto his girth so tightly.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, closing his eyes shut as he reached the hilt – the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix. A shaky whimper left your lips, your arms wrapping tightly around the older Zen’in’s neck.

“You good?” He asked you, his face hovering yours. You nodded, pressing a small kiss on the corner of his lips as you softly rocked your hips against his — a small moan ripping from your throat when his cock grazed your sweet spot as he pulled away slightly, leaving just the tip inside before he slammed his hips back into yours; evoking a loud scream that ripped from your throat, your walls squeezing him like a vice as you trembled underneath his body.

“Shit, doll.” Toji cursed under his breath, a coarse chuckle shortly leaving his lips. “Cumming, already?”

His calloused fingers traced over your hips, thus gripping onto your waist; his nails dug into your skin – his resolve crumbling by the second.

“You can take another one, right doll? For me?” Toji questioned you, raising a brow towards you; watching you attempt to utter a response, but merely trembling as a result when he began moving his hips once more; relishing in the way your body reacted to his –– your hips trembling underneath his, your velvety walls clamping down on him – all whilst giving him a pleading look; your cheeks flushed and your eyes blown in lust.

He chuckled, licking his lips. “Do ya even realize how lewd ya look right now?”

He thrusted his hips roughly into yours, his fat cock sliding in and out of your soaked walls in ease. You stuffed your face into his shoulder, biting onto his collarbone to stifle the myriads of moans that threatened to leave your trembling lips.

“Your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight,” Toji said, purring as he rocked his hips into yours. “Like the way I’m stretchin’ your little hole out, doll?”

“O-Oh my god,” you whimpered into his neck, your nails digging into his skin; your voice jumpy from each rough thrust Toji made as he pistoned his cock in and out of your cunt; squeezing him back in each time. Each thrust he made, your body bounced along with it -– sliding onto the mattress; he made it his mission to fuck you silly. Jaws slacked and erotic groans escaping his lips, his nails digging into your hips as he continued on with his relentless pace; relishing in the way your body meld into his, your mouth agape as all the words that left your words would be incoherent. It was all so arousing, fucking you into an incoherent mess whilst you begged him for more.

You closed your eyes for a mere moment, reveling in the delightful pleasure — but with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting that spot so deliciously, you shot your eyes wide open with a sharp gasp. Toji’s hand cupped your cheek before squeezing them, his dark eyes staring down at yours with a look of warning.

“Hey, doll — open yer eyes, and don’t ya fuckin’ dare look away. Look at the man who’s fuckin’ you good, yeah?” He warned, nearing his face to yours –– your lips merely inches apart. The husky, strained timbre in his voice sent waves of arousal throughout your whole entire body. Nodding your head eagerly, you could hardly utter a response, any noise that managed to escape your throat were in the forms of moans and incoherent praises.

Your mind was going blank, overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You were, quite literally, on cloud nine. The pleasure you felt was simply incomparable, and you could only feel yourself drown in it. Rolling your eyes back, another breathy moan escaped your lips; your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. The pit broiling in your stomach returned, and you could feel it building back up rapidly.

“Mm—Fuck! I-I’m…” You tried to say in between moans, your body jumping up in tandem to the man’s powerful thrusts. “T-Toji… Ngh! I’m so close — you’re fucking me so good… Ah!”

Your voice alone was nearly enough to get the man to cum, but he relented. He bit his lips and clenched his jaw, reveling in the ecstatic sensations.

“Fuck, doll.” Toji mumbled out a curse, clenching his jaw. He dug his nails deeper into your waist, taking it all within him to not cum right then and there –– especially when your pussy was squeezing him so nicely. A strained moan escaped your lips, riding out your orgasm; your arms pulling the man close. Just as when you had thought you could have a moment to recover, his strong arms had lifted you up from the bed –– manhandling you, and you shortly found yourself on your knees; bent over with your ass high up in the air.

Smack!

Moaning, your body jumped at the stinging sensation of his palm making contact with your ass, feeling the heat radiate across the skin. Though, within seconds, your body melted to his touch; his strong hands caressing and squeezing your derrière, eliciting a soft hum that left your lips ––

“O-Oh!” You pressed your lips together, your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head when he thrusted his cock back in – drenched in all your juices as he effortlessly slid back in; reaching the hilt, his tip brushing against your cervix as he rocked his hips back and forth; his cock grazing your sweet spot with each thrust he fucked into you. Stuffing your head in the comforts of the pillow, you were getting even more sensitive to his touches; every caress from his fingertips sent shocks of pleasure throughout your whole entire body.

Stifled moans escaped your lips, drool trickling down your lips as you gave in to pleasure; inching closer and closer to your release each time he rocked his hips against yours in an unforgiving pace. It was almost as if he was fucking you to impregnate you –– his brawny arms wrapped tightly around your waist; pulling you away from his cock before he pulled you back down, stretching your walls in the most delicious way. The many months spent feeling so sexually frustrated had melted away in this instant; the bed squeaked beneath your bodies, his thrusts relentless as he led you closer and closer to nirvana.

“Ah, shit. You feel so fuckin’ good, doll” You could hear Toji’s grunts from behind you. “Hah, this pussy’s all for me, yeah? Hah—Mm…”

“Mmm… Fuck, yes! ‘S all for you, Toji — Ah!” You replied through stifled moans, your voice muffled by the pillow pressed against your face. “Y-You’re fucking me so deep…!”

“Atta girl,” Toji hummed and despite being unable to see him in that moment, you knew very well that he had a smug smirk tugged at the corners of his lips while he continued to fuck you.

You lifted your head slightly from the pillow, turning your face slightly towards Toji — a look of concentration was plastered across his face; beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck, strands of his hair stuck onto his forehead, his teeth gritted against one another. Fuck, he was too sexy. Loud mewls left your mouth, thrusting your hips into his cock as you desperately chased after your release.

“K-Kiss me, Toji.” You said, your voice pleading. An abrupt moan escaped your lips shortly after, followed with a small whine when you felt his large hand wrap around your throat –– hoisting you up slightly while he pistoned his cock inside you, and he pressed his lips against yours; muffling the loud moans and whimpers that tumbled out of your mouth as he tangled his tongue with yours. He traveled his hand below your abdomen, his calloused fingertips rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud –– his lips not once ever leaving yours. You whined in his lips, feeling yourself losing strength in your arms. However, with his one arm hooked around your chest, he held your body up as he continued to fuck and rub your pussy. You were about to melt.

This all felt too fucking good.

“Ah! Mmm—Ngh! I-I’m gonna come again––! I… Hah… Fuck… ‘m so fucking close — please, Toji. I wanna come so fucking bad––!” You whined in his mouth, bucking your hips desperately against his; your legs twitched each time his hips met yours, hitting that sweet spot each time he fucked his fat cock inside your velvety walls. “O-Oh my god, this feels s’fucking goooood.”

“Yeah?” Toji queried, groaning at your words, and you nodded your head eagerly. Suddenly, your face was once again pressed to the pillows; his large hand pinning your head in place while the other returned to your clit –– rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bud as he rutted his hips into yours with an unwavering fervor.

“Shit. Come for me then, doll.” He grinned, clenching his jaw as he slammed his hips into yours, driving your body forward on the mattress.

The lewd noises of his hips rocking into yours, mixed with your wanton cries and his groans filled the room; only increasing in volume the closer you were towards reaching your orgasm. Given his staggered thrusts, you were certain he was also close.

“Mmm—Toji..” You mewled his name in between your needy whimpers and moans. “Hah! Ngh… Cum inside me…Ah! Want you… Mmm… to fill me up.”

Toji’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace as he fucked you arduously; his lips latching onto your collarbone, peppering a line of kisses and love bites.

A loud cry ripped from your lips, your whole entire body trembling as your orgasm washed over you; your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you arched your back against his chest in pure bliss — your hips convulsing as your juices, once again, sprayed all over his cock and the mattress. The raven-haired man tightened his grip on your breasts, practically squeezing the mound as he succumbed to the rhapsodies of his release.

“Oh, fuuuck.” Toji let out a drawn out groan, slumping his body atop yours as the tip of his cock slammed against your cervix, coating your walls with thick layers of white, warm fluid. Breathing heavily and as small grunts escaped his lips, his brows furrowed at the way your walls clenched tightly around him in an attempt to milk him dry. Languidly, he pulled out of your heat, his dark eyes glued onto the masterpiece he had created –– watching his seed trickle down your hole. Grinning, he stuck his finger back in, pushing his cum back inside your wet folds.

Heavy breaths filled the room, then returned the noises of the beads of rain smacking against the window. He glanced back up at you, his gaze locked onto your flushed face before he leaned in, pressing a chaste peck on your lips and slumping on the bed next to you.

“Are you feelin’ alright, doll?” Questioned Toji, caressing his fingers against your cheek. You nodded in response, cracking an enormous smile.

“I feel better than ever,” you said, nuzzling your head into his neck; your arms snaking around his muscular arm. “I loved every moment of it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Toji smirked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, placing it behind your ear. “Me, too.”

He shortly left the bed, making wide strides towards the washroom –– returning with a towel in his hand. Reaching out for the towel, you were about to thank him but he stopped you; his hands softly pushing you back down on the mattress.

“Oomph…!” Was the sound you made as your back made contact with the soft mattress, and you snapped your gaze to Toji’s.

“Lemme take care of you, doll. You don’ gotta worry bout anythin’ else.”

You sighed in relaxation, relishing in the sensations of the soft and warm towel pressed against your skin; cleaning off the sweat and excess juices. “Thank you, Toji.”

He replied with a low hum, his hands caressing your body in a newfound tenderness. Your heart swelled at the gesture, your lips cracking a soft smile as you continued to watch the older man take good care of you and your worn out body.

“If you’re not feelin’ too sore yet, care to join me in the shower after this?”

As if all the fatigue had instantly evaporated from your body, you had never uttered yes so fast until this very moment.

EXTRA SCENE — !

NAOYA COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES, his body frozen in place like a deer in headlights as he stared into the small crack of the door of the dressing room, his eyes unable to peer away from the sight of his older cousin fucking his ex-girlfriend like a madman; his flushed ears picking up on the lewd sounds of your stifled mewls paired with the squelching noises of both your bodies connecting together. His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd.

He glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow beneath his boxers. Shit.

When he first stumbled across you at his cousin, Zen’in Mai’s wedding reception with Airi clinging closely onto his arm, the last thing he expected was to see you by his cousin’s side — and what was even more frustrating was how Toji wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side without breaking eye contact. It was almost as if Toji was mocking him, especially with that smug smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

No words were exchanged between you and the blond male, there wasn’t any need to.

Naoya had thought nothing of it, at first. After all, it had been months since you had both taken your separate ways; he immediately made his relationship with his coworker official. Although Airi could be extremely clingy at times, he felt happy — at ease, even. After all, he could finally love his woman out in the open without any more shame. Though, after the initial encounter with you and Toji, he never crossed paths with you again during the reception. He could only stare from the distance, watching you happily chat with both Maki and Mai for a brief moment before he noticed a bright pair of eyes peering at him, and he shifted his gaze onto his girlfriend’s.

An hour had nearly passed, but Naoya was, undeniably, growing the biggest urge to simply walk out of the reception and head on home. While everyone busied themselves on the dance floor, chatting away with the other guests, or getting their nth plate of the night, Naoya had excused himself to the washroom.

Strolling down the empty hallways, his eyes scanned around the corridor to look for any familiar restroom signs — the blaring music playing that the venue rang in his ears. He stuck his hands into his pocket, feeling the irritation slowly getting to him. But then, all those feelings of growing frustration came to an abrupt halt when he heard your voice and that of another man’s. He lifted his head, tilting it over to the side in curiosity. There was noise coming from the dressing room, the door up ahead, and he could see a little bit of light peeking through the door.

“Babe,” Naoya could hear your playful whines through the door, “I-I don’t think we should do this here..! What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them see us. This is ya fault ya know?” Toji said, his voice low. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneakin’ around, pressing yer ass against my dick? There’s only so much patience I can take in, doll.”

He could hear you stifle a moan, letting out a sharp gasp as Toji thrusted his hips into yours.

“You dirty girl, look at how yer pussy’s grippin’ so nicely around my cock. You love my cock, dont’cha?”

“Mhm—Ah! Yes, baby!” You moaned pathetically, taking everything within you to control your volume.

Naoya’s hand immediately slapped over his mouth, feeling the blood rush to his face. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten closer to the door — he could either 1) turn around to leave and return to the reception, or 2) leave to continue searching for the bathroom. Either way, the best course of action was to leave, yet he still found himself standing in front of the door — staring between the small crack in complete awe at the sight before him.

Toji had you perched up atop the wooden dresser, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he slammed his hips into your drenched heat; his hands snaked underneath your dress, squeezing your ass as he pulled you closer unto his cock. You writhed, throwing your head back as you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your mind was going numb due to the pleasure your older boyfriend was giving you — stretching your pussy out in the most delicious way possible.

“Y-You’re so fucking big, baby…” You mewled out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips with each thrust he slammed his fat cock into you; evoking obscene noises of your hips meeting each other. “I-I wan’ more, please… baby—!”

His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd; your face all flushed, your eyes clouded in unadulterated lust as drool trickled down your lips.

Naoya glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow between his legs.

“Shit,” he mumbled out, unable to control the blood rushing to both his face and his erection. He should’ve run away –– he had to, but for some reason his feet stayed planted on the ground and his eyes were unable to look away from the pornographic scene; your hands all tangled up in his older cousin’s raven locks, his lips and tongue messily locked with yours — muffling your needy moans as he continued to fuck you in a relentless pace, the head of his cock kissing your cervix each and every time.

Each noise that was elicited from your lips sent shocks of arousal straight to his heat, and he gritted his teeth. He knew this was wrong — hell, it even felt wrong. Yet, his feet wouldn’t budge.

Shiiiiit.

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