#you’re existing and that’s freaking great

[readingwriter92]

Yknow what. Fuck it. It’s Sunday. I did adult things today and did enough note taking that my wrist hurts a bit.

Could I work for another hour like normal? Yes. But I think it’s little treat time. Forcibly deciding now that we’re gunna take a break bc tomorrow is Monday and I stg ima get thru it

[dragonanon]

can you do a chapter based on your Death!Reader and God!Brother hcs where Death wakes up from her sleep and goes to Heaven to check up on her brother's children and everyone is obviously terrified of her?

Hmmm…I’m not typically one to do requests because the urge to write is so sporadic and random for me. BUT I have been thinking about the initial confrontation in Heaven for a while now, so here are some head cannons for that. >w>

——

- It’s a typical perfect day in Heaven…Until it isn’t. Having seen what had become of your realm and learning Heaven was to blame for it, you’re on your way to rip someone a new asshole.

- Screams erupt from the Angels as the ground begins to shake and the bright sky darkens. Sera and Emily rush out just in time to join the Angels in watching in abject terror as a massive pool of darkness forms on the ground, and from it slowly rises a menacing figure.

- The figure is massive, and it only continues to rise until even the tallest building barely reaches its hips. Its six long horns twist and arch toward the sky, only making the figure appear even taller. Upon reaching its full height, the figure spreads its six mighty wings, each one sporting a menacingly sharp claw and all as shrouded in darkness as the rest of the figure.

- As its wings blot out the sun further, the figure opens its many blazing white eyes; two where you’d normally expect to see eyes, a third in the center of its forehead, and dozens more scattered across its wings and body.

- Sera lost all color as soon as she saw the figure rising, and somehow lost even MORE color when the figure opened all of its eyes. She looks like she shit herself, and Emily is panicking, trying desperately to get Sera to tell her what’s going on; she’s never seen the older Seraph look so terrified.

- With this unimaginably imposing figure now looming over Heaven, Adam decides this is the PERFECT time to attack, having been dumb enough to think this was a Demon attacking Heaven.

- The exorcists fly up towards the figure, ready to attack. This only angers the figure further however, and with a rumble that shakes the ground itself, the figure merely flaps its wings; creating a gust of wind so powerful it knocks all the exorcists back onto the ground.

- It’s at this point Sera FINALLY snaps out of it, rushing to Adam in mad panic and damn nearly strangling him while telling him to call off the exorcists. Which he does, albeit with some reluctance.

- This doesn’t stop him from asking Sera what gives, and her response is “Adam you absolute fucking fool, that is DEATH!”

- Now it’s Adam’s turn to look like he shit himself. “Death? As in, “the big man himself’s younger sister” Death?? As in, “the baddest bitch you’ve EVER seen, but can kill ANYTHING by just touching it” Death??? THAT fucking Death????” Ignoring that last statement, Sera’s frantic nodding in confirmation confirms to Adam that he has indeed fucked up. Big time. Adam then proceeds to lose all color in his face and practically cowers behind Sera as she cautiously approaches you, mentally preparing herself to be reaped on the spot.

- Back to your perspective however, you’re fucking PISSED. So pissed that you don’t even notice or stop to think that most of Heaven’s inhabitants likely have NO CLUE who you are, and are likely legitimately fearing for their lives. Meanwhile for all the older Angels and Angelic beings who’ve been alive long enough to have known you before you went to sleep, like Sera, they’re all still very much afraid, but it’s more in line with the “oh shit mom’s home early and she saw the mess we made in the kitchen, she’s gonna kill us!” kind of fear.

- The fact that they sent exorcists at you makes you even angrier. Like for starters, how fucking weak do they think you are that you could be stopped by just some low level Angelic beings with pointy sticks?? And then the audacity to even attack you to begin with, like THEY weren’t the ones who fucked up and you’re just some kind of strange intruder needing to be slain?? The INDIGNITY of it all!

- Your voice booms throughout Heaven, making even the ground tremble at the sheer intensity of it. “WHO DID IT?” You’re met with only silence, so you ask again with more force. “MY REALM IS A COMPLETE MESS WITH MILLIONS OF DISPLACED SOULS RIGHT NOW. SO AGAIN I ASK, WHICH ONE OF YOU FLAT FOOT CHILDREN DID THIS?!”

- Sera replies, voice trembling slightly. “Are…Are you talking about the exterminations? “IF THAT IS WHAT YOU’RE CALLING THIS MOCKERY OF MY WORK, THEN YES.” Sera looks visibly confused and concerned. “But…That SHOULDN’T be possible!…The exterminations KILL the Sinners; their souls should be gone, not stuck in Limbo! There has to be some kind of mistake here!”

- Hearing this, you can’t help but let out a brief but harsh cackle, making the ground jolt from the abruptness. “DEAR YOU HONESTLY THINK A SOUL COULD BE SO EASY TO DESTROY? A SOUL IS A POWERFUL THING FOR A REASON CHILD, IF THEY WERE SO EASILY DESTROYED THEN NONE OF YOU WOULD BE STANDING HERE BEFORE ME NOW!…SO ONCE AGAIN, WHO. DID. THIS?! AND SO HELP ME, IF I HAVE TO ASK AGAIN THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.”

- Whilst Sera is dumbfounded by this revelation, Adam sees a golden opportunity to save his ass and points at Sera. “I-It was her! Yeah it was all fucking HER idea! I-I tried to tell her it was stupid, b-but she just REALLY wanted to go down and kill those bast- Demons! Yeah she REALLY wanted to kill all those poor Demons, can ya fucking believe this shit?!”

- Before Sera can defend herself, the darkness seems to intensify, and she can just FEEL every one of your eyes glaring daggers into her. “SERA…YOU SIGNED OFF ON THIS?? YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, I EXPECTED SO MUCH BETTER FROM YOU! I LEFT EXPLICIT INSTRUCTIONS FOR HEAVEN AND HELL TO WORK TOGETHER TO SORT SOULS FOR THIS VERY REASON! AND NOW BECAUSE OF THESE BARBARIC “EXTERMINATIONS”, YOU’VE COMPLETELY DESTROYED THE BALANCE I WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE AND MAINTAIN. I HOPE YOU’RE PROUD OF YOURSELF, BECAUSE I’M CERTAINLY NOT!”

- It’s a strange and mildly amusing sight to see the head seraph get scolded like a misbehaving child by this massive dark entity. But here we are anyway!

- At one point during the tongue lashing you’re giving to your niece, Emily buts in and asks for an explanation for what’s going on; having not heard Sera’s previous explanation to Adam apparently.

- Your temper flares for a brief moment, and you just about launched into another lecture at the little shit who DARED interrupt you. But upon seeing Emily, you softened considerably, seeing that she was young and TRULY didn’t understand what was happening.

- “AH…I APOLOGIZE DEAR, BUT I DON’T THINK I RECOGNIZE YOU…COME CLOSER LITTLE ONE SO I CAN SEE YOU.” You slowly crouch down and lower your hand, offering Emily to climb onto it. Emily is hesitant, obviously a bit scared of you. But Sera encourages her to go to you, she knows that you won’t hurt Emily and it’s high time she meets her aunt anyway.

- With the small seraph in hand, you stand back up to your full height and bring her closer to your face. Now FINALLY able to see her properly, you speak. “YOU’RE FAIRLY YOUNG FOR A SERAPH…YOU MUST’VE BEEN BORN DURING MY SLUMBER, AND IN THAT CASE I APOLOGIZE THIS HAD TO BE OUR FIRST MEETING. TELL ME, WHAT IS YOUR NAME CHILD?”

- Her voice trembling slightly, Emily tells you her name and then asks who you are and asks if you’re a seraph like her and Sera. The innocent question gets a genuine laugh out of you, and despite it shaking the ground it’s a lovely sound. “OH CHILD, I AM FAR FROM BEING A SERAPH. THOUGH I CAN SEE WHY YOU WOULD THINK THAT. YOU WERE ALL MADE IN MY IMAGE AFTER ALL.”

- Seeing the visible confusion on Emily’s face, you elaborated. “LONG AGO, YOUR FATHER WANTED TO SHOW HIS APPRECIATION OF ME. SO FOR HIS FIRST SENTIENT CREATIONS, THE SERAPHIM, HE BASED THEM ALL ON ME.” Emily looks surprised, and follows up by asking how you know God.

- You give another genuine laugh at her question. “SWEETY I’M HIS YOUNGER SISTER, I AM “DEATH”, THE GODDESS OF WELL…DEATH. BUT YOU CAN CALL ME “D” OR “AUNT D”, MOST OF YOUR SIBLINGS DO.” Emily’s mind is blown “Wait! YOU’RE aunt D?! Sera told me all kinds of stories about you before you went to sleep, like the time you got into an argument with Father over his invention of the “Snuggie”. I never thought I’d get to meet you!”

- “IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A BATHROBE YOU WORE BACKWARDS, AND I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE HE THOUGHT THAT WAS AT ALL CLEVER.” You huff, feeling amusement and mild irritation at that memory.

- “SPEAKING OF YOUR FATHER, WHERE IS HE?” Sera speaks up, having managed to recollect herself, and explains that no one has seen or heard a word from God since before you went to sleep.

- The irritated snarl that leaves your throat sounds like thunder and shakes the ground, making everyone tremble with fear. “THAT LAZY BASTARD HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, WATCH HIS DAMN KIDS, AND HE COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT?! NO WONDER THIS ALL HAPPENED THEN, HE LEFT YOU ALL UNSUPERVISED!”

- Bending over, you carefully set Emily down before standing back up. “I HATE TO CUT MY INTRODUCTION SHORT, BUT APPARENTLY I NEED TO GO AND HAVE A LITTLE CHAT WITH YOUR FATHER.” You stare pointedly at Sera and continue. “DON’T THINK THIS MEANS YOU’RE ENTIRELY OFF THE HOOK EITHER. WHILE YES, YOUR FATHER’S ABSENCE IS MOSTLY TO BLAME FOR THIS DEBACLE, YOU ALSO KNOW BETTER THAN TO DO SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS. WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS MORE ONCE I FINISH WITH YOUR FATHER, AND IF I COME BACK AND FIND OUT YOU HELD ANY MORE OF THESE “EXTERMINATIONS” I WILL TURN YOU INTO A HOLLOW! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” Looking at the ground, Sera nods and says “Yes Auntie D…”

- Satisfied with that response, you bid everyone farewell and slowly melt back into the ground, completely disappearing. Once you’re gone, the sunlight is back and it’s as if you were never there.

- Now the seraphim have to soothe the murmuring crowd while Sera starts attempting to get in contact with Lucifer to let him know that “Hey Aunt D found out about the exterminations and is NOT happy about it. She just got done yelling at me, and now she’s on her way to go read Father the riot act. Just warning you now because once she’s done with him, you’re probably gonna be next.”

- Lucifer receives the message and is now frantically trying to create peace offerings in hopes they’ll make you more amicable, while also preemptively planning his own funeral in case the peace offerings don’t work.

- Meanwhile in God’s palace, God is currently relaxing in an elaborate hot tub and watching American football on an absurdly large TV whilst drinking wine like it’s water. He’s pretty drunk and having a grand time yelling at the TV.

- His fun is interrupted through by you literally kicking in the door and storming in, you’ve shrunken down to your smaller size so all your features are actually visible now and not covered in darkness as you glare at your older brother with an intensity that could peel paint.

- God startled momentarily before seeing it’s you and giving you a dopey smile. He’s also in his smaller form, so that makes things slightly easier for you. “Ohhh heeeyyy Death!…You startled me thereee…It’zzzz beeen awhillle, huh?” You scoff at his slurred speech, in disbelief that he could be so drunk right now.

- “Yes, it HAS been awhile. Good to see that you still choose to spend your days getting completely wasted instead of tending to your children.” You answer tersely, and God rolls his eyes. “Zzstill the saaame old ssstuck up bitch…Tha kidzz are fahine Deee! Yyyoou should cohme haave ah drink wib meee.”

- You ignore God’s offer for a drink and cut right to the chase. “No, your kids are NOT fine! When was the last time you checked in on them?! Do you even know what they’re up to right now??!” God dismissively waves his hand and chugs more wine. “I juzzt checked on thhhem ah couple decades aghooo..They’rrre prohably makinnn neeewh liffe.”

- “God that is a load of shit, and you know it! I was JUST down in Heaven, and the seraphim told me that you haven’t seen or spoken to ANY of them since I left to take my nap eons ago! And furthermore, while you’ve been in here drinking the day away, your children have COMPLETELY destroyed the balance we created! They’ve been mass slaughtering Demons annually for millennia now, and Limbo is a complete disaster right now because of this!” Hearing this, God looks down at his bottle of whine, embarrassed, and mumbles an awkward “oh”.

- Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before God clears his throat and says. “Zzsooo…You’rrree NNOT gooing to drink wiff me?” At this you snap and snatch the wine bottle from God and chuck it at the TV, smashing the bottle and the TV. God shouts in anger but before he can ask you wtf that was for, you just lay into him. Calling him a deadbeat and pathetic excuse of a deity.

- “How can you just sit in here day after day, while your CHILDREN are out there causing such mayhem! Do you not love your children all??!” God is shouting back at you, his anger having sobered him up some so he’s not slurring as much. “How DARE you accuse me of not loving my children! I would giive ANYTHING for them and you know that!”

- “Then fucking ACT like it!! Don’t just sit in here and rot your mind with booze and TV!” God growls. “I don’t need you to tell meee how to handle my children! Why do you even care?! It’zzz not like they’re yours anyway!”

- “I care because they are part of MY family, and I want my family to be safe and happy, something that you couldn’t give less of a shit about apparently!” God throws his hands up at this point “Well what do you want from me Death, go hhhold their handz?! My children are ALL capable of thinking and being on their own, they don’t NEED me to do shit for them!”

- “That doesn’t mean that they don’t still need you there emotionally! But with the way you act maybe it’s best you ARE never there! After all, what use could any of them get from your pathetic drunk ass!!” This clearly struck a nerve as God points back at the door you came in through and roars at you to get the fuck out of his house. Growling, you give a harsh “Fine!” and tell him he can sit and be a drunk deadbeat all he wants because you’re done with him and his shit, and he’s NEVER to contact you again unless it’s in regards to his children or business.

- You stomp out of God’s palace and return to Limbo, wanting to start working on getting things cleaned up and cool off some before you go check on things in Hell.

- Once you’re gone though, God slumps his shoulders and hangs his head. With your venomous words echoing his head, he summons another bottle of wine and begins chugging it while he trudges into his bedchambers.

- He flops down onto the bed and picks up a framed photo and slowly brings it closer to his face. It’s an old photo, one taken shortly after God created the first few seraphim. You and God are both standing next to each other, arms around each other’s shoulders and leaning in close while the first seraphim all stand in between the two of you. Everyone is absolutely beaming, and God looks especially happy; so proud of his creations.

- Tears drop onto the photo as God remembers how things used to be back then, back when he was actually NEEDED by those around him and wasn’t just some brand figure who’s only job is to smile and wave. Even as he slowly sets the photo down, tears continue to fall and he holds his head in his hands. “…I’m sorry I’m so damn useless…Hopefully you’ll forgive me someday…Not that I deserve it though…I’m…so fucking sorry…” No one is there to hear God’s sobs, and eventually he passes out. He’d rather be dreaming of happier times anyway.

[r0nnietherat]

i wanna forage w/ charlie kelly one day

Bitch foraging is NOT as easy as y’all think it is

I went out into the Wilderness w my father recently (bc he’s into foraging and he gets high on mushrooms a lot) and we didn’t find DICK. We were out there like 2-3 hours too.

I think if Charlie was in a fairytale tho he would be in Hansel and Gretel and the witch would lure him into the house and he would murder the shit out of her LMAO idk why this made me think of that but it’s fun for me to imagine

[pebblezone]

Idk how welcome home has overrun literally all of my social media but I guess I welcome it

[denimbex1986]

'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

[bakugoushotwife]

Just Being Neighborly

a/n: y'all gone need the holy water for this one... it was a lovely writing challenge from the one the only @getosbigballsack so if you something with similar themes don't freak out lol. this was super fun and i definitely got carried away LMFAOOO

cw: shew let's see um, threesomes, mfm but the men are involved briefly, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, anal, dirty talk, pet names, slight dacryphilia, size kink maybe? doggy and reverse cowgirl. unedited as usual, i probably missed something im sorry

wc: please im so embarrassed it's 9k

They still remembered the day that you moved in. It was a sunny Tuesday in the middle of the summer, the gentle breeze flowing into their townhouse while they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch playing Fifa. The sounds of car doors shutting and the roll of suitcase wheels on the concrete sidewalk got Satoru’s attention. He pauses the game, and Suguru groans. The lanky young man trips over himself to lean over his best friend and roommate on the couch, peering out of the window. 

“Stop being so nosy and I was beating you.” The other man sighed, moving his long dark hair to his other shoulder so his companion didn’t lay on it. 

Gojo huffs in defense of himself, keeping his bespectacled eyes trained outside. Finally he sees you. You walk back to the sleek Cadillac in the shortest yellow polka dotted sundress in existence, cute white pumps elongating your bare legs even more so. He was drooling and he hadn’t even seen your face. “There’s a babe moving in!” He rejoices, maybe a bit too loud through the open frame.

 Suguru leans over to pull his mouthy friend out of the window, but you too, piqued his interest. The dress was tight, hugging every curve and accentuating your large bust and wide hips. You don’t notice them watching, too busy pulling boxes out of the trunk and setting them on the sidewalk for you to carry in. Satoru wonders what you do for a living. These were expensive townhouses, the two college students only lived there on the account of him being a trust fund baby. 

The more built of the two shoved the other male off his lap, but the lanky man saved himself from falling to the floor. “We should go help her, she shouldn’t carry all that herself.” Suguru suggests like the sweetheart he is. Satoru hums mischievously at the idea. 

“What a great idea, I’m sure the babe will be relieved to have two strong young men living so close!” He grins, elbowing his partner-in-crime. 

“Y/N, are you done yet?” A foreign voice thunders, the sound of dress shoes clack back out to the car, grabbing their attention. Soon a man in a suit comes into view, folding his arms at you. 

You sigh softly and paint your smile on. “Almost, dear. This one’s a bit heavy.” 

“Well you packed it all in there, so whose fault is that?” Your husband chuckles, though he’s not kidding. Satoru Gojo’s nose scrunches up.

“Blegh, he’s an asshole.” He sneered. 

This time, Suguru Geto had to concede to his best friend, the way the man spoke to you was awful, and he was making you carry everything? Disgusting, “Agreed.” 

Satoru gently slapped the other’s chest. “Then let’s go help the babe.” He said excitedly, to which his friend chuckled and shook his head at his eagerness, though he can’t wait to introduce himself to you. The two get up from the couch and slip into their shoes, beginning their descent down the lavish stone steps. He feels a pang of guilt, you’re clearly in a relationship of some sort, but the feeling soon subsides when he remembers his treatment of you. Men like that don’t deserve women like you. 

As if his closest friend could read his mind, he elbows him in the ribs. He’s got a cunning smile on his face, and Geto knows that he doesn’t care about your relationship either. If there was one thing you could count on Satoru for, it was unabashed boldness. 

“I’m thinking we swoop in right, save this pretty damsel in distress.” He wiggles his eyebrows, pulling his glasses down his nose to give his friend a knowing look. He quickly pushes them back up, though Suguru knows that won’t be the last time his companion will pull that stunt. “Or at least offer our strong shoulders to cry on while we carry all her things.” 

Suguru sighed. “Be normal, please, for once.” He pleaded, dark eyes narrowing at the smirk decorating his face. 

Satoru rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Sometimes Suguru was so annoying, and absolutely zero fun. If he had to seduce you himself so be it, but he wouldn’t let Geto sweep in later if he didn’t help. “I am normal, you’re the weak one.” He giggled, sticking his tongue out and scooting down the rest of the steps, smiling brightly once the sun warmed his skin. They stood on the same sidewalk as you, shyly observing you unpack the car. You seem frustrated with one box in the trunk, perhaps the same one you mentioned to your…heathen earlier. 

Gojo smirks, sharing a glance with the ever-stoic Suguru once more. Hands in pockets of his black basketball shorts, he wears that brazen grin all the way to the Cadillac. Suguru walks slowly after him, eyes trained on the ground ahead of him. He would have to be the gentleman to make up for Satoru’s lack of shame. 

The lanky man clears his throat, the summer sun behind him enshrining him in an ethereal glow. You turn to the stranger, taken aback by his almost unnerving beauty. He hooks his glasses on his tight black tee, grinning teeth shining as white as his shaggy white locks.His gaze is the clearest blue you’ve ever seen, you can see the clouds from above you reflecting in his matching sky colored eyes. You arch your brow, unsure what to make of his approach. Just as he’s about to speak, a second man appears. He’s not quite as tall, but his shoulders are broader and features warmer. He smiles softly, black eyes carefully analyzing you. He folded his arms over his chest, abs clearly defined beneath the opaque wife beater. He jutted his chin out to your boxes, but it’s the first visitor that speaks. 

“We noticed you could use some help, miss.” He smiles, icy stare shamelessly raking over your figure. Your cheeks warm under his gaze–no, surely it’s just this summer heat. You’re happily married, moving into these lovely townhomes because of your newlywed husband’s success as a District Attorney. Maybe he wasn’t the most attentive husband–or even the nicest, but he was paying your way and you didn’t have to lift a finger. He did right by you, so you tell yourself. But you must admit, the two young men were right. There was no way you could get that damn box out of the trunk, much less carry it all upstairs to your new dwelling. 

“Oh, well, yes actually. Thank you…?” You say, arching a perfect brow at them. Gojo nearly let out a dreamy sigh, your face was just as perfect as the rest of you. Your brows were immaculately manicured, lashes full and framing enchanting doe eyes that looked at them so expectantly. You were so tempting it was hard for even Suguru to be respectful, sweat beading at your chest so deliciously he had to readjust the gray sweats hanging low on his hips. Satoru hummed, amused by the scene. 

“I’m Satoru, this is Suguru. We live here!” He shared as if it were a treat just for you. 

Suguru stifled a groan. “It’s always nice to welcome new neighbors. May we ask your name?” He asks, leaning forward slightly. You leaned against the bumper of your car, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. They were handsome and not much younger than you if you had to guess. They were certainly capable of helping you carry these last few boxes. There was no harm in introducing yourself. So why did you feel so guilty?

“Oh, I’m Y/N Robertson, it’s lovely to meet you. I’ve been struggling with this box for a while!” You chuckle nervously, patting the offending weight and stepping out of the way for one of them to grab. The white-haired man nodded, showing no signs of regret, repeating your name aloud.

“Y/N Robertson. Was that jerk your husband?” He asks, the permanent glimmer of amusement twinkling in his eye. 

You gasp softly and Suguru’s eyes widen. “I apologize about him, he has issues. I think he was born without a filter.” Suguru apologized, glaring at his counterpart. 

Jerk? Is that too far off the mark? It had been such a stressful move, you did mostly everything yourself, your husband working fourteen hour days and refusing to lift a finger when he was around. You were mostly embarrassed that these two had noticed his treatment, not wanting their pity. “He’s…he’s just been busy with work. But yes, he is my husband.” 

Satoru clicked his tongue, walking forward to effortlessly lift the burden you had been struggling with for the past twenty minutes. “That’s a shame, Y/N. A princess like you doesn’t need to be carrying something like this. But don’t worry, we got ya.” He winks. 

You avert your gaze to the other man, almost seeking solace in his peaceful presence. He’s wearing a faintly smug expression as he lifts the stack of boxes on the sidewalk. Suguru only nods his agreement. “Which one’s yours?” 

You think about it, pulling out your phone to look at the paperwork.. “I’m sorry, I forgot, I’m pulling it up…” You mutter, taking your lip between your teeth. The men share a look. You were adorable. 

“Take your time, we’re fine.” Suguru insisted, giving you another warm smile. It soothes your nerves only slightly and stokes the fire elsewhere. 

Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’re super strong. Don’t worry.” He says, admiring your manicured nails tapping away at the screen of your device.

 You allow yourself to giggle at this, you could tell they utilized the location’s gym facility a lot. Satoru’s black shirt hugged him tightly, swells of his biceps bulging against the hems. He grins at the gift of your laughter, smirking at his friend. Suguru chuckled through his nose, shaking his head at how easily his roommate flustered you. You hiss in celebration.

“Yes! I found it, sorry. It looks like I’m in…408!” You say without realizing. Your innocent eyes blink up at the tall pillars that were your new neighbors and current assistants. Satoru looked like a kid in a candy shop, and Suguru smirked in silent celebration. 

“Right across the way from us. How divine.” Satoru chuckled, turning to make his way up the stairs with the weighty box. “It looks like you’ll be seeing a lot of us!” 

Suguru hummed. “I’m sure we’ll make great friends.” He said, slowly striding after the energetic man. You just padded behind them, watching Suguru’s back muscles glean with sweat, long hair swaying slightly as he trods along the steps. You felt ashamed, eyeing them this way, but it was hard to miss the way Satoru’s shirt rode up to reveal his own toned abdomen and white patch of hair leading to the shorts sliding down his slender hips. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, telling yourself it was just because of the growing wedge in your marriage. You just needed to escape their lingering gazes and deviant smugness. 

Later that evening, the men sat on the same couch that they discovered you on, deciding to play the long game. Your husband was a tool, you were practically in heat just from their eyes on you. It was clear he wasn’t giving you any of the things you really needed.

That was a year ago now, the two college boys are more than in your favor by now. You brought them a tupperware of muffins the very next day, and it kind of became your trademark. You took good care of them, bringing them dinner some nights and supposed “leftover” baked goods. They wondered if your husband even noticed that you started cooking for four. They found any and every excuse to visit you during your husband’s long workdays, often spending the entire afternoon with you. 

When they weren’t with you, they were thinking of you, talking to each other about what they would do when they could share you. They could hear everything through the thin walls, every fight you had, every tear you shed, every orgasm–though they could tell they were faked. It was painful, biding their time until they could make their move, just hoping that the moment presented itself soon. 

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait much longer. It was another regular day, the two were working on some household chores when a door–your door–slamming caught their attention, followed by crying and two voices screaming at each other. 

Satoru dropped the plate he was washing with wide eyes, scrambling for the peep hole. They’ve heard the arguments, but none of them had spilled into the hallway, or had been filled with such emotion on your end. This time it was your husband who cowered in front of you as you screamed and threw his things out of the home. 

“Cheating bastard! You cried, face reddened from all the stress, no doubt. Suguru turns the washing machine on and makes for the door too, fighting with Satoru to see. 

“Honey please–it was a one time—” 

“Oh don’t bother. She sent me everything! This is on the fucking news, you absolute ass!” You huff, shoving a suitcase into the hall. At that, Satoru scrambled to the couch, flipping on the television and pilfering through the channels until the news displayed the reason for such an argument. Even he was shocked, a cheating scandal for the ages. Suguru’s heart dropped as the reporter spoke:

“District Attorney Joel Robertson caught in a blazing hot scandal this evening. The other woman tells all! His secretary leaks the sex tapes–claiming this affair has been going on for years.”

“How could he cheat on her??” Satoru is puzzled, yet grateful. Your dumbass husband has finally given you a reason to leave. It was only a matter of guessing when you would bang on their door. 

Suguru sighs, he never wanted you to be hurt. He knows that Satoru isn’t necessarily thinking about it that way, though he can’t deny the twinge of excitement in the back of his mind. Your dollhouse of a marriage would be over, and he had the perfect idea for revenge. 

“Sex tapes, huh?” Suguru muttered, muscular body pressed into the door to watch your husband pick up all his things strewn about the hallway. He didn’t even look guilty, seemingly fine with your pained tears. You slammed the door in his face. 

“I never want to see you again! You’ll get papers soon!” You yelled from behind your door. Your husband rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah? Well good luck paying for a place like this with no job, you insufferable piece of work.Or finding anyone better than me.” ” He chuckled, the suitcase rolling down the marble hallway and your tears being heard loud and clear after Satoru clicks the TV off. 

“Sex tapes.” Satoru confirmed with the shake of his head. He realized how this had to be affecting you, pressing his face against Suguru’s to try and peek out of the peep hole for any movement within. “How horrible. The secretary’s an ugly anyway, they belong together.” He snorted.

Suguru side-eyed him. Satoru said every thought that crossed his mind, his friend was convinced, however it was hard to disagree with some of his wild statements. This was one of them. You were way out of your husband’s league. He treated you like garbage and then had the nerve to cheat after not even being able to please you? Disgusting. Vile. 

“Should we…?” Suguru poses aloud, not able to stand the sound of your cries much longer. 

Just as Satoru nods eagerly, your door flies open again. This time, you march right across the hallway, raising your pretty fist to knock on their door. Suguru’s lips part in surprise, but you hesitate to actually connect with the firm barrier between you and them. It was almost like the point of no return, the building tension that started the day you moved in would all come to a head if you crossed the threshold. 

You bit your lip, looking back at your entrance. Maybe you should just go back, you were just emotional and seeking out the only comfort you could think of, right?

Satoru flings the door open, not giving you the chance. You’re face to face with the two, realizing they probably saw everything. Your cheeks heat up, your raised hand slowly lowering to your side. You must look a mess, hair disheveled from the countless times you raked your hands through it, eyes red and puffy from crying, tear stains on your cheeks. You make a strangled sob noise, looking at them so sadly it pulls their heartstrings. 

Suguru steps forward, reaching for you. “We heard, we’re so sorry..” He says, and you can see his sympathy for you written in the warmth on his face. You put your hand in his, the feeling of human contact with someone who actually cared was almost enough to make you cry again. 

Satoru huffs, leaning against the doorframe. You’re almost caged between them, feeling their body heat radiating off. His face is embossed with displeasure, eyes darkened in the same way the sky does before a storm. “He’s a piece of shit. Doesn’t deserve someone like you anyway, sweetness.” He says with a look of disgust, shaking his head. 

Suguru covers your hand with his other one, dark eyes bouncing between yours, like he’s trying to figure out what you were thinking. Truthfully, you were embarrassed more than anything. It was one thing to be in a loveless marriage, it was another for that fact to be known across town thanks to your husband’s low morals and high notoriety. You would be a laughing stock. 

“I’m just…embarrassed! I’ll be known around town as his poor wife. I hate that, I don’t want their pity or laughter…just so embarrassing.” You mutter, looking toward the ground. The sentiment makes Satoru pout. Oh how he just wanted to comfort you, for Suguru to lead you into the apartment where you would stay with them forever. 

Suguru frowns. He could tell your tears weren’t for your broken heart, but your devastation. Your reputation on the line, betrayed by a man who had never treasured you. He glances at Satoru, who’s just staring at you with such longing the dark-haired man can’t take it. “We can help you embarrass him, if you’d like.” 

His eyes widen. The words fell from his lips before he could think the better of it, but now you’re looking at him with those pouty doe eyes in confusion, and Satoru has to save the day, picking up your other hand. 

“Yeah, he’s right. We’ve been listening to you fake orgasms for a year now. Dude has some nerve makin’ tapes like he knows what he’s doing. We could really show him.” Satoru chuckles, leaning down from the door frame. You can smell his cologne, something minty with almost a hint of chocolate. He does know what he’s doing, invading your senses like this. His warm body and gorgeous eyes that have been undressing you since the day that you moved in paired with his scent and touch was overwhelming in the best way. Especially with the firm but comforting grip that Suguru kept. His hands were calloused from hard work, cradling the softness of your hand like a newborn. He leans closer too, waiting for some sort of response from you. His dark hair fell in layers around his face, accentuating his strong jaw and cheekbones, pale pink lips smiling softly. He smells of bourbon and cinnamon and some sort of expensive shampoo, the two of them so different and beautiful in their own ways–and both wanting you. 

“What did you..have in mind?” You squeak, your neighbors and acquaintances grin at each other. You didn’t even question their eavesdropping, knowing that they’ve been craving you since that summer sunny day. 

Satoru hums in pretend thought. This was only for show, they had determined what they wanted to do moments ago when they shared that glance. “Make a sex tape of your own, with men that can actually make you cum.” He let a laugh out through his nose. 

Your eyes widen, you open your mouth to speak but find that you don’t know what to say. Have you had a few wet dreams about a moment like this? Maybe, but that didn’t take the surprise out of their reciprocal desire. You looked to Suguru to search for any hint of his friend teasing you, but the man only squeezed your hand and smiled smugly. He could sense your doubt, and it was precious. 

“He’s not joking. We’d love to help you get revenge, dear.” He doubled down, the air around you growing heavy and charged with an energy that made your stomach drop, butterflies replacing your insides. Satoru steps out of your way, and Suguru angles his body the same way. You can pass right between them and enter their townhouse. You nibble your bottom lip, a nervous habit they had picked up on. “No worries, though, if you don’t. We’re here for you irregardless.” Suguru adds on the end, not wanting you to think you must. They wanted you to want to. 

And Satoru sure hopes you do, his gray sweatpants growing tighter at the thought of having you today, and under such circumstances! They hadn’t considered making films with you when discussing their fantasies, but he was definitely down with the idea. He smiles and nods, taking his lip between his teeth to mirror your nerves, but his was anticipation.

Suguru is highly perceptive, he’s hoping you say yes if only for his best friend’s sake. You wrack your brain, you should say no. There’s no way that this can end well, but your desire has piqued. They were right, your husband was horrible at sex, and you’ve been wondering what Satoru’s slender hands would feel like on your body, thinking about Suguru’s sweet smile pressed into your skin instead. Your stomach tingles at the thought, and you know what you want. You want to give in to your desire, you want to be with the men that had actually taken care of you for close to a year, and you wanted your soon to be ex-husband to see how good they could make you feel. 

You take a deep breath and squeeze through their bodies to enter their home. It was clean, like always. They tried to be better about that when you started eating dinner with them. You set your phone down on the table, taking a seat on their couch to blink at them expectantly. 

They shared another look, but this one was one of surprise. There you were, in their house waiting for them to fuck you. They had dreamed of this, and now it was happening. Gojo wastes no time, smirking and coming back inside, pulling Suguru in with him and shutting the door. You don’t miss the sound of the lock clicking, though it made you giggle at his eagerness. He takes his shirt off to avoid having to do it later, and you bite down on your lip again. Though this time it’s because he’s incredibly sculpted, as lean as he is. 

His skin is pale and scarred, you wonder from what, but it only added to his beauty. Every muscle was defined, down to his v-line. You can’t help but notice the ache in his pants, and you nearly sigh dreamily. It’s almost embarrassing how your core throbs, and this was just one of the two. Suguru picks Satoru’s shirt up off the floor, setting it on the coffee table instead. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, and you fight the urge to request his shirt be removed as well. You smile shyly at him, and he chuckles, reaching his hand out to hold your chin. “We’re gonna take good care of you, baby.” He insists, thumbing at your bottom lip. 

Your eyes stare up at him expectantly, taking in the lustful gaze he finally reveals. His dark eyes become half-lidded and focused on your pout. “Can I kiss you sweet girl?” He asks, sharp brow arched. 

You nod eagerly, feeling the cushion on your other side dip with the weight of the other male. He must have set up the camera, surely he wouldn’t allow Suguru to beat him to the punch. Much to your surprise, he only sets his hand on your hip, leaning forward for a better view of his best friend’s mouth covering yours. Geto’s lips are rough like his hands, in a good way. His tongue is warm as it laps over yours, his large hand still holding your jaw. You can feel Satoru’s hands knead at your thighs, but he’s not protesting. He doesn’t even protest when Suguru’s other large hand slips under your ass to pull you up into his lap. He just scoots closer to keep you sandwiched between hard bodies. 

“Yeah this is hot.” Satoru groans, palming himself over his pants when Suguru gently hikes your skirt up so he can access more skin, his thick fingers digging into your doughy flesh. You could feel his lips curl into a smile at his friend’s encouragement, kissing you harder. Your senses were overwhelmed, though you expected and wanted that. He tasted so good, letting your tongue dominate his just for the enjoyment. He nearly chuckles at your eagerness, it seems their desire wasn’t one sided. Your hands tug at his shirt, so he lets you catch your breath so he can yank it off.  “Ah, you gotta match us, angel.” Satoru grins, nimble fingers playing with the hem of your tank top. 

You blush, knowing you have no bra beneath. It was still too hot to wear layers, though your body felt like it was at the highest temperature it had been in a while. You’re so pretty, Suguru thinks, watching you peel your tank top off, bare chest to them. Your tits were perfect, nipples hardening before their very eyes. Satoru groaned, reaching to cup one of your breasts. Suguru’s lips latch onto your neck, his hands still kneading at your thighs. You can feel your cunt dampen as Satoru dives forward, sucking your pebbled bud in between his teeth. You gasp softly at the sensation, Suguru’s eyes open, watching his roommate fondle your tits and feeling you writhe in his lap only made his hardness nestle into your side, making you gasp again. Both of them were going to be huge, and you didn’t know how you would be able to handle it. 

Suguru snaps you out of your thoughts, rotating you in his lap just a little. Your back was flush against his chest, the skin almost burning where you connected. His muscles made you feel like you were sitting against a wall. If not for his warmth and the bulge settled in between your asscheeks, you may have thought you were. Satoru hums, pleased with having more access to you, his tongue swirling your sensitive bud. His fingers pinch the other, the slight pain sending shockwaves through your body, causing you to arch into his mouth. 

Geto chuckles, his hands still stroking gentle paths from your thighs to your hips, where nothing but your skirt stopped him. He arched his brow, jerking the fabric to sit around your waist. “No panties either, sweet girl?”

Satoru pulled away from your chest at this, a thin string of saliva stringing from his plump pink lips to your breast. “Oh dollface, I’m beginning to think you got ready for us.” He chuckles, the sound bright and bubbly as he scoots back on the couch to gaze at your newly revealed pussy. Your head spins from the way they look at you, like you’re a precious jewel. You feel drunk on the mix of their touches, where one was sweet and warm the other was rougher and icy. Suguru continues to press sporadic kisses to your neck and shoulders, trying to find your sweet spots. You whine so darling when he finds them, he can’t help but smirk to his best friend as your eyes flutter shut from the simple pleasure of him kissing your neck and the white-haired boy’s grip on your knees to spread your legs. He groans at the sight of your slick cunt, nodding to Geto. 

“She’s soakin’ Sugu. Hope you don’t mind but I gotta taste.” He hummed, his svelte fingers spread your lips apart and you shiver from the cold air being blown on your center. Satoru giggles, you were so cute like this, wiggling on Suguru’s lap and craving more of them by the second. 

Suguru nodded his permission, obsidian eyes locked on his friend’s sapphire ones. He thought the boy’s excitement was adorable, and yearned to watch the enjoyment of both of you. The lanky boy cooed his happiness and leaned forward to lick a fat stripe down your center, moaning at the taste. Your head fell back on Geto’s shoulder, hand flying to tangle up in white tresses. He giggles again, relishing the way your body responds to him. He does it again, humming at the intense lust in Suguru’s eyes and your sweet gasp. 

“Stop playing.” Suguru warned, biting marks into your skin to give you some pressure and pleasure since his counterpart wanted to toy with you. 

Gojo pouted, but you nodded your head in agreement. “No fun.” He huffed, but dipped his head down to your core for the count this time. You didn’t want him to tease? Fine. He won’t. But just remember that you asked for it. His tongue plunges in your weeping hole, his fingers assisting him in drawing circles around your clit. You moan softly, body jolting at the sudden intensity. Your hips rolled, fucking yourself on the muscle. 

Suguru hums at the sight, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from moving too much. It was clear your ex didn’t know how to treat you sexually, either. You feel his warm breath in your ear, Satoru’s fingers replacing his tongue, pushing his long fingers straight to your spongy spot. Your vision spots from that alone, not to mention his lips suckling your nerves. Suguru watches every move, impossibly turned on by the two of you together. 

“You’re so beautiful with his mouth on you like that, sweetheart. Do you like it?” He coos, collecting all your hair and brushing it over your shoulder so he could see all of your perfect face. You nod quickly, and Suguru chuckles, a deep rumble that you can feel in his chest against your back. He realizes that you’ve lost the ability to speak just from Satoru. It’s sweet, but he knows you’re in for one hell of a time. 

“You sure you can handle both of us, dear? I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He asks, eyes focused on the animalistic way Satoru devours you. His mouth was a mess of your arousal, tongue swiping his lips to keep your taste. 

You were already overwhelmed, but it was the best feeling of your life. You didn’t know how you would please both of them, but you knew you could. So you nod. 

“Use your words for me then, sweetheart. We’ll do the color system, m’kay? Green is all good, yellow for slow, red for stop, can you do that for us?” He says, running his fingers through your hair. Your eyes meet Satoru’s, who also seems to be waiting for a reply. You nod again. 

“Yes, ‘m fine, green all good.” You mutter, grinding your pussy against Satoru’s nose even though he was buried in your cunt. He sucks on your clit again, but it makes your stomach jump and your hips rock faster so they know you’re close to your first real orgasm in who knows how long. 

Geto hums his approval, tightening his hold on your waist. “You gonna make her cum for us, Sato?” He inquires, every touch flaming hot. Gojo nods, teeth scraping your bud and it’s all you need to topple over the edge. Suguru’s hands go back to your hips, your fingers tugging on the other boy who still lapped at your nectar. He hums his enjoyment, sitting back on his knees and winking at you. 

“You can pull my hair all night long, angel.” He says, watching your hole clench around nothing. How cute. He flickers his gaze to the man holding you upright, arousal nearly dripping off his tongue. “I think she needs a little break, you wanna taste?” He asks, which confuses you for a moment. How could he give you a break if they were going to swap?

Geto hums. “Of course I do. Come here.” He says, smirking at your bewildered gaze on them. Satoru grins and leans over you, planting his lips on the man who asked. You gasp softly, the sight more arousing than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, as they seemed pretty attracted to each other, you just felt ashamed for getting off on it. But you can’t help it, the way they hummed their satisfaction against each other’s mouths was melodic, Satoru opening his mouth for Suguru to utilize how he wants. The latter holds his jaw in similar fashion to the way he held yours earlier, controlling the space between them. He pulls back a little, mostly just to view your arousal covering Satoru’s bratty face and to look over at your awestruck features. He smirks at this, his tongue darting out as he brings Satoru’s face back to his, though they don’t kiss. Satoru whimpers as Suguru licks the sides of his mouth, cleaning all your natural honey off his best friend’s face. 

You gasp softly, not able to stop yourself, “That’s fuckin’ hot.” Satoru chuckles, his hand closing around Suguru’s wrist so he could turn his head in his grip. 

“I agree baby girl. He just had to taste you on my tongue.” He grinned, though that was the exact truth. The flavor of the two of you combined was driving him crazy. His dick throbbed painfully, and he didn’t know how much of this he could take. He releases Satoru in favor of fisting his hair. 

“Let me get her other hole ready.” He demands, and only Satoru knows what he means. The white-haired boy grins devilishly, sitting back on the other end of the couch. He wiggles out of his pants and tosses them over his shoulder, cock slapping his eight-pack. 

He looks at you with that same bare-naked stare he gave you the day you met, his smirk unfaltering. “Lean over and suck my cock, baby. He wants to see it and he's gotta get your ass ready.” He giggles softly, his large hand wrapping around his own length to keep it from aching. Your eyes flicker to the cock in question, aggravated red tip oozing pre-ejaculate down his prettily veined shaft, curving upwards to abuse every spongy spot. He was much bigger than your ex, you knew it would take some time to adjust. Nonetheless, you eagerly slip off of Suguru’s lap, getting on all fours. Suguru takes the opportunity to free his cock from his pants, sitting on his knees so he had a bird’s eye view of you crawling toward Satoru.

Gojo nearly vibrates with excitement, moving his hand away from his length so you could take over. He suddenly pouts when your pretty eyes look up at him, he’s realized he still hasn’t kissed you yet. “Oh no sugar, Can’t have you suck me off if I haven’t even been a gentleman.” 

He hums, sitting up so he could meet your lips. He was greedy with his kiss, lips hungrily moving over yours. You respond in kind, hand resting on the back of his neck where your fingers just brushed over the soft fuzz of his undercut. He moans softly, clearly enjoying the way you play with him. He pulls back with a loud smacking sound, resting his back against the arm of the couch once more, hands folded behind his head. Suguru rolls his eyes at Satoru’s showmanship, but he watches anyway.

“Much better, go ahead, hot stuff.” He coos, looking rather satisfied with himself. Your face is why, so drunk on his kiss that you sit back on your knees and hover over his tip, squealing in surprise as Suguru holds your waist. You can feel his length rubbing against your thighs, positioned under your cunt. His tip collides with your clit so perfectly when you rock back on him, your hips doing so automatically. You moan softly at the feeling, and Suguru hums as your arousal continues to drip around him. 

“I’m gonna fuck you while you give him head, sweetness, ‘s that good with you?” He asks, praying you say yes. He didn’t want to throw too much at you at once, but his dick was beginning to hurt. He sighs happily when you nod. You bite your lip, knowing you were about to feel unimaginably full. You turn your head to peek at his size, finding him not as long but nearly twice as girthy as the dick you hold in your hands. And you already needed two hands for Satoru. You sigh, Satoru’s slender fingers grabbing your chin to pull your focus back to him. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him angel, I got you soaked enough to take him.” He brags, squeezing your cheeks between his grip. He giggles at your smooshed face and hums, bringing your chin back down to his tip. You batted your eyelashes at him, watching his face carefully as you stick your tongue out and take him into your mouth. He groans at the relief of your warm insides, ego stroked when you gag just halfway down his length. He can feel himself in the back of your tight throat, eyes fluttering shut when you start to bob your head along him. Suguru smirks, enjoying the sight. He can see the muscles twitch in Satoru’s stomach and he can feel your pussy lips move on his dick leading him to believe you’re clenching around nothing. 

He can fix that. He palms your round ass, relishing the way you push yourself back into him while easing more and more of Satoru’s dick down your throat. It’s gorgeous, Gojo’s soft moans and the choking gags of you trying to take all of him. Your throat squeezes him perfectly, his hand coming down on the back of your neck to keep you there. He forces his eyes open, wanting to remember the way you look with his cock stuffed deep, tears rolling down your face. All three of you have forgotten about the camera, just performing for each other. Satoru can tell when Suguru plunges in by the way your eyes widen and you temporarily stop moving. Though you don’t have much a choice once Suguru starts rolling his hips against your asscheeks. The burn as he stretches you out is delicious, making you moan around Satoru. He moans in return, the vibration of your voice going straight to his balls. He can’t help but slightly buck into your warm mouth, Suguru’s slow thrusts giving you time to adjust. 

You clench around him and that sensation alone is so good he almost moans. Satoru wasn’t lying, he made sure you were absolutely drenched to make accommodating his friend’s size as easy as possible. Your walls were still so choking and spongy, he can feel a tingling sensation shoot down his spine. He watches you get used to him, your hips slightly wiggle back for him, and you resume bobbing along Satoru. It was hard to breathe with such a task at hand, you took deep breaths through your nose, but you still felt dizzy as Suguru picked up his pace. 

Satoru watched the pleasure wash over Geto’s face, the man’s eyes closing and mouth dropping open. It was so hot, especially with the way you squeezed around him. It was too much, he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. Your pretty face at his cock, burying your nose in his snow colored pubes paired with Geto’s soft grunts as he plows into you and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass was sending him hurtling towards the finish line and he didn’t want this to end yet. He didn’t want to shoot his load in your mouth—not this time anyway. 

Suguru settles into a regular pace, trying not to falter when you squeeze down on him like this. His thrusts are powerful, pushing you into Gojo’s trimmed bush with every rock of his hips. The men are rewarded with the sweet sound of your gags, to which they both cherish. He tries to be gentle as he gathers some spit on his fingers, tentatively sliding the spit around your tight ring while he keeps you drunk on dick. You mewl softly as his thick index slips in, both holes squeezing on him so fucking good he groans. Suddenly, there’s a rubber band ready to snap in your gut, making you gasp around the girth keeping you from speaking, as if you could do much of that anyway.

The man responsible hums, giving your ass a gentle smack. “Gonna cum for us again baby?” You nod along Satoru, and he beams with satisfaction. “Go ahead, get my dick nice and wet for me.” His words are so lewd that you can’t help but obey, gagging on Satoru as you try to cry out. The slender boy can’t handle it, biting down on his lip to avoid  the inevitable. 

“Sugu, not gonna make it like this..” Satoru says in a whiny tone, watching your ass ripple into Geto’s hips and your face contort in added bliss. Suguru peeked at his friend’s pouty face and chuckling at the blown pupils and flushed cheeks of the bratty male. 

“That’s fine bubs, we’ll change it up. I’m sure that throat needs a break.”  Suguru hummed, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. He didn’t want anything obscuring his view of your perfect mounds. He lightly spanked the flesh, relishing your little squeal. He treasures his last few pumps of you, knowing he would give his whiny counterpart your sopping hole. Satoru releases your hair, smiling brightly at the sight of your ruined face. 

“Now those are some tears I can get behind, princess.” He coos, thumbing them off your pretty face. He brings your mouth back to his, not willing to give you any time to breathe. You’re gasping against his lips, but your hold on his shoulders begs him to come closer. Suguru continues prodding your hole, spitting on the second entrance of yours he’d be taking. He slips a second finger in, and you don’t complain. You sigh into Satoru’s mouth and tug at his hair, lips smacking against each other's messily. Geto loves watching this, his other hand stroking his aching erection. 

Satoru watches his friend, trying to sync his timing to his. He was only trying to keep you occupied so the other man could work your asshole, knowing it would be a big stretch, Satoru was content to make out with you until he comes untouched, but he knows Suguru won’t allow that to happen. He nods, now able to scissor his fingers in your hole. His strong hands grip your hips, pulling you from the white-haired man which earned a whine from you. 

“You’ll get Satoru back, beloved, don’t worry.” Suguru rasps, pulling you back into his lap, facing away from him as you did earlier, the only difference being your knees folded under you as if you were still in doggy. You felt a little guilty with his comment, not wanting to prefer one over the other. So you lay your head back on his shoulder, using two fingers on his jaw to turn his face close enough for you to push your lips on his. Satoru loves the sight, the two sexiest people he knows making out right in front of him! The only thing that could possibly make this better is what they’re planning on next. Gojo walks forward on his knees, once more caging you in. It’s his mouth you feel soothing the marks his friend left earlier, breaking new patches of skin to bruise of his own. 

Suguru’s hand cups your cheek, his kisses deliciously slow and sensual. He didn’t want his hard work to go to waste though, so he lifts you slightly, lining his cock up with your asshole. He breaks the sweet kiss, “You think you can take both of us, baby?” 

“Oh she can do it, poor girl needs it.” Satoru hums, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Isn’t that right?” 

You nod. If you thought you were incapable of speaking earlier, then maybe you’ve never had good sex in your entire life. “Green, go for it..wan’ have both.” You whine, making Satoru light up. 

“You heard the lovely lady.” Satoru purrs, hands on your waist as a means to push you onto Suguru’s cock if he doesn't do it fast enough for his liking. Suguru just chuckles through his nose and shakes his head. 

“So impatient. Very well.” He hums, using his leverage on your hips to slide his tip past the squeezing ring of muscle. He grips your hips harder than he means to, undoubtedly leaving semi-permanent marks. It was impossible not to, he was trying to slowly inch his way in, but your ass was sucking him in so good he had to slowly shove the rest in. You let out a loud wanton moan, bordering scream. Satoru moaned from the sight and sound alone, his only touch being his hands on your waist. He was going to claim your cunt, no doubt, but he had to let you get accustomed to Suguru’s rod in your ass. 

He just lets you sit on it for a moment, partially for his own benefit. He had to get himself under control or he would bust immediately, and ruin everything for Satoru. And he would never hear the end of his mouth if he did. You feel so full, the pressure of him stretching everything open makes you see stars. You yearn for movement, for some relief on your throbbing clit, so you whine, watching Satoru’s face morph into surprise as you try to bounce on Suguru already. 

The man moans, the first one he’s let loose all evening. It’s deep and once again thunders against your back. You were better than the fantasies he had conjured in his head, and he was determined to give you the time of your life. So he aids you in your bounces, his rough hands supporting your weight and dragging you up and down his shaft at his own pace. It was still too good, the warmth and tightness choking down on him perfectly.

“Fuck her, Satoru.” Geto breathily demands, the gravelly tone of his voice sending a chill to both you and the man he ordered inside you. Satoru didn’t hesitate, his knees situated between Suguru’s. He lined up with your entrance, tugging you forward just a bit which must have deepened the long-haired man’s connection as you started moaning so lewdly Satoru wondered if he’d paint your walls just by pushing inside. He couldn’t watch your poor pussy clamp around nothing any longer though, bottoming out in you and holding your cheeks in one large hand. He enjoyed how your sounds changed, sounding warped due to your smooshed face. He smiled, your cunt tightening around him, meaning it got even tighter for Geto. 

“You heard the man, ‘m gonna fuck you angel. Let us know you’re okay.” He cooed, and even though his words were sweet he almost sounded like he was teasing you. 

You nod, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched at the sensation of two huge cocks stuffing you full. You thought your intestines must be forced to move to accommodate them, heavy breathing and soft grunts in your ears. “Good, so good.” 

Satoru nodded, kissing your forcibly puckered lips sweetly as he began to move inside you too. His eyes roll back for a moment, everything about this was perfect. Your silky walls pulsating around him, the feeling of Suguru’s cock rubbing against his only separated by a thin wall of tissue, the look on his lovers faces. He groans, tossing his head back as he fucks into you harder. He dreamed of a day like this, and now he could only pray this wasn’t a one time thing. He was already addicted to this, and by the looks of it so was Suguru. He hadn’t ever seen the man so relaxed, though he enjoyed it immensely. As if he could feel his stare, Geto opens his eyes to make contact with the man staring. He winked, a slight smirk. Your hips continued to buck, getting fucked no matter how you moved. Forward onto Satoru’s curved length abusing your pleasure spot or backwards onto Suguru’s impaling girth splitting you open. You feel that familiar sensation of fire building in your gut, your pants and moans getting closer together. The men look at each other, nodding breathlessly. They were close, like they had been since the moment they saw you undress. The feeling of your choking walls on both ends made it impossible to hold out any longer, though your body spasms tell them they won’t have to. Your grip on Satoru’s hair tightens, a wailing moan signifying your release as if the rush of cum surrounding Gojo wasn’t obvious enough. 

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna get both loads love, you want that?” Suguru grunts in your ear. 

You nod vigorously, head so empty you could only collapse against his chest, making him support the full weight of you. He didn’t mind at all, grinning ear to ear. He was hanging on by a thread, but it was his job to make sure everyone was happy. 

“You first Sato.” He groaned, clearly struggling. 

“With me.” The man pouted, the deal so sweet that Suguru couldn’t refuse. 

He nods, “With you.” He gulps, waiting for the tell-tale crinkle of Satoru’s nose to tell him when to release the burning coil in his gut. Satoru could tell that he was waiting for him, his thrusts to your cunt menacingly rough. It only takes a few more before his nose crinkles and mouth drops open, cock twitching inside you fucked out cunt. 

Suguru gasps softly, his hot load spurting off like an erupting volcano, quickly filling you up and forcing the rest to ooze out around him despite how well he plugged your hole. Satoru’s seed spills out into you like a dam had been holding him back, both sensations so warm and messy and delicious that you moan softly at just the feeling, head spinning as it falls back onto Geto’s shoulder with heavy breaths. 

Gojo slumps forward slightly, kissing your jaw with the most tenderness he had displayed all night. “I knew you could do it, hot stuff. That was fucking amazing.” He hums, fishing for an article of clothing to put under you. He finds Suguru’s shirt, and raises up enough to slide it under you with Geto’s help. They couldn’t have you staining the couch, now. Gojo slides out of you, leaving you on Suguru’s comfortable lap. The black haired man smiles at you sleepily, pushing some of your hair out of the way. 

“Yeah, it was, we hope you had a good time?” He hums as Satoru goes to stop  the recorder. 

You giggle and nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I guess it’s time to get cleaned up and back to my place, for as long as I still have it.” You chuckle dryly, your entire body was a pile of mush, and you couldn’t move if you tried. You just didn’t want to overstay your welcome or make your problems their responsibility, despite their eagerness to take care of you. 

Satoru comes back with three bottles of water and a sheepish look on his face, an oddity for him. “I may or may not have forgotten to press record.” He says with a slight grimace, handing out the waters as an apology. Your amusement is clear, and you wonder if he did it on purpose.

Suguru laughs, and he can’t figure out if it’s at you or Satoru. “Hm, what a predicament. You’re not going anywhere.” He squeezes your hips and lifts you off his length, setting you back in his lap regularly. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you don’t have to worry a hair on your pretty little head about your place. You can stay here.” He said matter of factly, his arm hangs possessively around your waist. 

Gojo hums. “We could use a sweet lady like you. We’ll make up for that year of faked orgasms.” He winks and takes a swig of water. They make a convincing argument, and with the way Satoru wipes the pearls of cum off your legs and the way Suguru carries you in his arms to start a shower, you have no doubt that they will take care of you.

[wonderlandrry]

hi, this is my first ever attempt at writing on tumblr!! the story could be more than one part if you like it (maybe three or four parts). this is also my first time not writing in first person pov so hopefully it doesn’t suck complete ass. (not really edited and idk how to format either so GREAT first impression, friends.)

pov: best friend! harry x you (aka i tried my best lmao)

blurb: you and harry have been best friends your whole life and one night changes everything.

contains: friends to lovers, bad girl x good boy if you squint, smoking green 🍃, smut, cussing, oral (giving and receiving for both characters), praise kink, and size kink if you squint really hard again and read between the lines lmao.

word count: 5k

• NOT RAMADAN FRIENDLY •

just friends

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Rylan’s honey eyes flick from your dorm bulging back to yours. The tension from tonight’s argument is fresh in those crinkles next to his eyes that you used to love. Fucking adore.

Parting your lips, you sigh, “See you around.”

“Don’t be like that,” A ringless hand runs through his dark hair. You’re not exactly sure why you’re focusing on that but here we are. “It was a joke, come on.”

Your hand rests on the door handle, silently contemplating on freaking the fuck out again. This isn’t the first time he’s made jokes, very public jokes about your best friend. The very first time you let it slide with a warning because some people don’t understand that you can be just friends with the opposite gender. They can’t wrap their heads around that not every relationship revolves around sex. You understood but tonight? He went too far.

“Saying Harry follows me like a stray dog,” You have to take a deep breath because Rylan doesn’t know what Harry’s been through. That only pisses you off more. “Was too far.”

“He doesn’t have any friends, Lil, just you.”

“Because he’s smart, he doesn’t have friends because he’s fucking brilliant.” It was true, Harry focused more on school and baseball than friendships. He got a full ride to Calloway University reliant on grades and his pure, raw talent. Some would stop there but he took it a step further by studying physics. Now it’s your turn to run a hand through your hair because this is the fourth fight over your best friend. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you not see how fucked that is?” He hisses, making your head snap in his direction. “You’re supposed to be dating me, not him.”

You scoff, “So that’s what this is?”

Rylan’s hold tightened on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. “Look, I don’t care that you’re friends with him but you spend too much time-”

That confirmed everything for you. Your long friendship with Harry wasn’t the problem. Rylan knew how much Harry meant to you and how your friendship was all you had sometimes. He knew yet the fact that he didn’t have your full attention every waking moment of the day was the source of cruel jokes.

“You’re threatened, huh?” His knuckles blanched even more as the words left your mouth. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ry. Harry’s been my best friend since I was seven. Nothing has and will never happen between us. I would never sleep with him and ruin our friendship.”

“I see how you guys look at each other.”

Your whole face heats, it’s literally on fire. “You’re seeing things because we’re just friends.”

“You’re in denial.” Fuck. This.

Those three words were enough to push you. Push you to fling open the car door and launch yourself onto the pavement. They were enough to heat your whole body to the point that chilly winter air wasn’t enough to simmer down your anger. You don’t even bother slamming the door shut because that asshole can get out and shut it himself. That’s what he gets for constantly trying to pry a confession out of you. A confession that doesn’t exist but he still won’t accept it. The security guard gives a weary smile as you pass him, an obvious witness of the whole shit show. You look over your shoulder just in time to watch Rylan peel out.

He doesn’t follow you, shocker. Not that you wanted him to but you also didn’t expect him to. He acts like he cares but when push comes to shove, actions don’t match the words constantly flying out of that stupid mouth.

Unlocking and relocking the door with a soft click, your dorm is oddly dark and quiet. It looks like no one has been here all day. This is a possibility since Ellie spends most nights with her boyfriend. You slide off your black vans and place your bag on the hooks by the door. Seniors get a common room and separate bedrooms in student housing and you love the privacy. Honestly? It’s hard as fuck to hook up sharing a room with someone. El never cared who you brought home but felt weird as hell, yano?

From: ball boy (11:35 pm)

you home?

To: ball boy (11:36 pm)

yeah

You loosen your claw clip and honey-blond waves tumble. Walking into your room, you slip out of the cute-ass outfit you spent an hour perfecting and into some random band shirt with no bra and spandex shorts. Such a shame because you looked hot, too bad the night didn’t end with Ry ripping this lacy, black corset off you. Sucks for him.

From: ball boy (11:42 pm)

open the window before Mack catches my ass.

Your eyes snap toward the only windows in your room. The sheer, black curtains were closed but they did a shit job keeping the sunlight out so, honestly, how good were they for privacy? Your heart hammers thinking about Harry seeing you. How he could’ve seen all of you, not just what you choose to show off. The thought made your heart hammer.

From: ball boy (12:46 am)

don’t tell me you’re fucking someone right now

From: ball boy (12:47 am)

fuckin’ sick, lil

Annoyed, you rip open the curtains to find Harry’s cocky expression staring straight at you. It’s too dark to make out his full face but you can tell by the smirk tipping the left side that he’s amused. Making your favorite dimple dent even deeper. In one swift motion, the latch unlocks letting him in. He’s done this a million times, yano? Sneaking in your room for late-night study sessions, movie nights, or sleepovers. You’ve shared a bed countless times but never crossed that line, he’s your best friend. There are rules in place to save your friendship. He means more to you than one night of pleasure. Always has.

“Nice shirt, been looking for that everywhere.” Evergreen eyes bounce across your face, “Thought you had a date.”

You blow out a breath, “Not anymore.”

He smirks, dimple popping, “Obviously.”

“Thought you had plans.” You counter because Harry may not have many friends but that didn’t mean anything when it came to his sex life. He had trouble talking to girls but that didn’t seem to matter because they flocked to him. There was just something about him that drew people in, you included especially you. Maybe it was his ability to make anyone in the room feel special; wanted by having his undivided attention.

His lips purse, “Nah, not tonight.”

“Why?”

He gives you a pointed look giving away that he knows, “You know why.”

Guilt settles into your stomach, that stupid sinking feeling of being caught hit full force. He had the same argument with Grace that you did with Rylan tonight. They seem to argue more though and it kills you seeing him upset. You know he cares about her but he loves you. Maybe not romantically but definitely platonically and that means something to him. Every time they have this conversation, you know you should walk away. It's always your first instinct to protect people you love and you love your best friend. But, you’d rather die than let him go and that’s selfish as fuck but true. You sigh, “Harry-”

“I’m good,” He closes the distance and wraps you into a hug and it feels like home. Your favorite type of hug. “Worried about you.”

You smile against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart hitting your cheek, “Nothing a Star Wars marathon won’t cure, Stud.”

His face lights up, “God, I could kiss you, Lil.”

“Whatever you say, ball boy.” Your heart flutters violently but you ignore the feeling. He always jokes like this in secret and maybe that’s the reason no one believes you’re just friends. But, they’re just jokes, yano.

“Ball boy?” He scoffs, making you tilt your chin to meet his gaze. When your eyes finally focus, Harry’s staring at you with his stupid, dimpled smile. Just because he’s your best friend doesn’t mean you’re completely immune. He’s handsome and you’d be dumb to deny that because, well, you have eyes. Currently, he looks even better from this angle. His hair’s tousled as neat as those chestnut curls will allow and dimples seem more prominent. Deep, inviting indents. The black, backwards hat only adds to the contrast of those evergreen eyes. Your favorite shade of green. A sliver of metal trapped between perfect teeth as he cocks his head. He chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “That’s fucked up.”

Pulling back, you shrug, “You’re the one who plays with them all day.”

His tongue clicks, cheeks hollowing, “Baseball, I play baseball.”

You dismiss him with a wave, walking into the common room. “Whatever helps you hit balls with your bat, Ball boy.”

“Better watch that pretty mouth of yours,” He warns in a low tone, so low that everything tingles. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulls out a bag of weed before plopping on the couch, “because I don’t share with bad girls.”

“Watching Star Wars high?” You grin as he nods. “Man of my dreams.”

Harry smirks, all boyish and full dimples, “Don’t tease.”

After pressing play and settling into the couch, you glance over at him just as the credits begin to roll. He’s lighting a joint, brows set in concentration, pink lips puckered around the paper inhaling slowly before passing it to you.

The next forty minutes fly by in the best, blissfully buzzed way. Time doesn’t have an exact science. We’re happy and having a good time. All the anger from earlier dissipated from you and Harry just being together. His nose found its way under your jaw, right next to your pulse point, some time after fifteen or so minutes. He’s always been affectionate when buzzed but holy fuck, was he toning it down before. You don’t know what changed but his hands haven’t left your waist and he keeps hugging closer to your chest with little sighs and hums of contentment. He smells so fucking good like peppermint, fresh laundry, and smoke.

Your breathing is slow and steady. Completely wrapped in him. Fingers twisting the curls at the nape of his neck until your fingertips tingle to touch him elsewhere. You don’t allow them to go lower than his throat, feeling how harsh each swallow was each time you’d get below the hinge of his jaw. He hums against your neck, nuzzling deeper into the column dangerously like he can’t get enough, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” You breathe as he hugs tighter, not stopping your feather-like movement through his soft curls. “You?”

“Yeah, that feels good.” His words come out sleepy and deep and gravelly. “Your t-touch always feels good.” Warm evergreen holds all your attention as he kisses your cheek, “Thank you for being here with me. You make everything better, always have.”

Your face tilts, noses inches apart, and whisper. “You make everything better for me too.”

Harry’s the type of man that goes from beautiful to devastating with a change of facial expression. Your hazy brain can’t stop taking him in for some reason. It’s involuntary. That beautiful, sculpted face is hidden at nightfall but you allow yourself to appreciate how much time someone put into crafting him. It’s like you spent the last fifteen years with blinders on and can finally see.

Sage burns into evergreen as his lips roll a few times like he’s trying to come up with a safe response. The irrational part of my brain wants to feel his mouth on you again so bad that you almost crave him. Your lips part at the same time waiting for the other to make a move or do something drastic. Three heartbeats of your mouths seconds apart. Three heartbeats in your own hazy, happy world. His nose nudges yours once before dropping back to your throat. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your breathing synced again. Instead of calm and steady, now it’s erratic and fast.

Fuck, you have to be high, right? Best friends don’t look at each other like this. Especially you guys.

He leans closer, left hand planted on your thigh as we just stare at each other. Almost like he feels it too. Your fingertips ache to touch the stubble dusting his jawline so bad they tingle but you can’t seem to move. Completely lost in the hypnotic desire clouding the calm green of his irises.

Not wanting to put pressure on Harry to make the first move, you close the distance. Not sure why you did that but your mouths part at the same time. His in surprise and yours in want, yet in perfect sync. Pressing your lips to his, he immediately kisses back, cupping your jaw. One second everything’s moving slowly and the next, he’s lifting his shirt over your head. Touching every inch of exposed skin like he can’t get enough. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts as yours find his jeans. The kiss breaks as he leans back just enough to look at you. You’re looking at each other in silence but it’s so fucking loud.

“We should-” He swallows harshly, columns of his throat tense, “Don’t wanna finally have you if you’ll regret-”

“Won’t ever regret you, H,” Your voice is hushed yet full of so much want and sincerity. “Don’t stop, we’re okay.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out in relief pressing another kiss to your lips that sends trace currents through your body full force. Finally giving into the sweetest temptation you’ve ever tasted. Forbidden and delicious. This was like an avalanche of feelings and lust in motion, couldn’t stop the cascade if you tried. The aftermath would eventually come but everything would be okay. It had to be.

“Yeah, just friends,” Your lips move with his again but lazier, a slow pace that makes everything come to life. “This doesn’t change anything.”

You lied because this meant everything but you can’t stop.

He blinks like he can see right through your bullshit.

You blink back hoping he doesn’t.

“Just friends.” He repeats only the first half of your lie between kisses, pressing your body further into the couch with his hips.

The words come out breathless.

The words come out easily.

The words come out in cool peppermint.

He starts to drag your shorts off at the same pace the kiss and you lift a little to help. Being this vulnerable, letting the other fully see the other is something you can’t put into words. Your eyes rake his body as his lustful, dark gaze mirrors yours. There aren’t enough fucking words to describe how beautiful he is. Taking in every single detail from his tattoos to his cock pressed between your open thighs. The desperation; everything fucking aches for him. He leans forward, lips parting, eyes darkening by the minute, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw until they meet your mouth. The warm metal of his tongue ring claiming every inch of your mouth. He tasted like charged temptation in the best way, like something you didn’t know you craved until now.

Harry whimpers as your legs wrap around his waist. His cock throbs between your thighs and he groans against your lips. The sound vibrating with need; so fucking desperate. Strong hands grip your ass as the kiss deepens. He’s kissing you like you’re oxygen and he’s hungry for air. Almost like he can’t breathe without tasting you. Without having you like this. Staggered, harsh breaths hit the left side of your as his lips descended. Sucking and biting gently at your throat until they reach your chest and wrap around your nipple piercings. Metal clanking salaciously as his tongue swirls, toying with each little bar. His cock throbs again and your head falls back into the throw pillows with a loud moan. The arrogant smirk against your already heated skin only sends fire dancing.

Crackling and humming with each touch. They say fire needs oxygen to grow and Harry was yours. Always has been, he ignites all your fires.

Pulling back slightly, salacious evergreen meets thunderous oceans as he speaks, “So fucking pretty.” His words come out as a rasp, full of raw desperation. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad.” Kisses pepper your face, “Wanna make you feel so good, please? ”

“Y-yes,” You breathe, unable to finish the sentence as his kiss-bruised lips meet yours again and again, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your already open thighs, while yours run through his soft curls. Tangling and twisting as your lips move hungrily, desperately. Your teeth trap his tongue ring gently tasting and the sound that escapes his throat is feral. His body pushes against yours as you devour each other. Urgent, hungry, and like you might run out of time or change your mind. Hot, open-mouth kisses descend from your lips to your jaw then stop at the base of your throat.

“Fuck,” The word’s rushed, nearly a pant, as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The view of his gorgeous, toned body sends a shiver down your spine. The butterfly on his chest fluttered with each rapid breath. His abs jutting and rippling like it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there. Rough yet gentle hands feather your ribs, gliding effortlessly until they pause at your hips, leaving trace currents branding me with each tortuous touch. The rings on his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips despite how gentle he’s being. A surprised gasp leaves my lips in a whimper as his grip tightens holding you into place. Your hips tilt, wanting to feel him and he groans, nostrils flaring like he’s in pain, “Want you so bad,” His nose runs against your jaw, “Not gonna last if you keep moving, Lil.”

“Sorry,” You breathe letting your head fall back as it swims with every effortless emotion you feel for him.

“Shh, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect, look at you.” He whispers, the gravelly tone of his voice sending vibrations between your thighs making you ache. A completely desperate ache for him that would be embarrassing if it was anyone but your Harry. Suddenly, he’s kissing you but lazily this time. His lips moved so painfully slow and tender against yours. Kissing like you have all the time in the world. As soon as you match his pace, he breaks the kiss sighing deeply against your parted lips. He studies your face, evergreen locked on blue, as he slowly drifts between your thighs. His hands follow him, traveling down your inked body with ease, until they lock around your upper legs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, trying to keep up with his pace. He ignores you, placing drawn-out kisses trailing from your left hip to inner thigh. Soft moans leave your parted lips each and every time his mouth touches your skin. His kisses are getting closer and closer, nipping and sucking, teasing and torturing. It’s too fucking much. “Harry-”

“Need something, Lil?” He sucks harder on your hip, leaving a purplish bruise on porcelain skin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze with a lazy smirk. So effortlessly sexy.

“Please-” Desperateness clings to the word as your head falls back, unable to handle seeing him between your legs.

“Please what?” Harry smirks against heated skin as your hips move forward, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want-” The sentence pauses at the tip of your tongue. No one’s ever asked what you wanted before. “I’ve never-” Your brows push together trying to find the right word but he reaches up, fingers smoothing the line between them like he understands.

“It’s okay,” He runs the flat of his tongue against your clit and your knees almost push together from pleasure, the round of his tongue ring hitting perfectly. Like he knows exactly what you need. Burning evergreen disappears into the back of his head as he moans against you, fingernails digging into your skin. “Taste so fucking good, Lil. Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

“Fuck,” The whimper that comes out of you is pathetic as he lifts your leg, draping your right knee over his shoulder, tongue circling with no mercy. Flicking and sucking and teasing as he changes pace. Your head falls back feeling his piercing tease your entrance with each flick of his perfect tongue. Your fingers laced into his wet curls, tugging as he pulled back, eyes meeting yours. Bringing his left middle and ring fingers to your lips, manually parts them until his fingers push past your bottom teeth. The cold metal of his rings hits your warm mouth. Evergreen dances darkly as they glide across your tongue until you gag around them. He exhales roughly, head cocking, “Mmm, suck. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his fingers as your eyes lock. He moves them in and out a few times before withdrawing. Never breaking eye contact, pink lips puckering around my clit as his fingers tease your entrance. He watches you intensely, so fucking intensely as his fingers match the pace of his tongue. Your eyes flutter in pure fucking bliss as your grip on his hair returns. Pulling and tugging, making him groan so deeply, “Lil.”

Your name came out of his mouth with the same electricity that courses through your veins whenever he’s around. Hot, entrancing, unfuckingdeniable, and your undoing. White, hot pleasure hits so hard that you try to close your legs but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them open, easing you through it. Your breathing evens out as Harry watches you between your open thighs. His head tilted upward, lips parted in amazement, evergreen bouncing around your face like he’s committing every muscle movement to memory.

“For fucks sake.” He exhales, blinking in complete astonishment.

“Hmm?” The word comes out lazily, so fucking easy like your smile.

He hovers, face inches from yours, hazy eyes blazing with lust. The end of his cross necklace bounces off your bottom lip a few times. “So pretty when you cum, Angel.”

Fuck, in one swift movement, you push his chest backward completely straddling him as his back hits the couch. Long, ring-clad fingers grip your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, kissing slowly, tongues tangling lazily. He tastes like you and it makes your head spin. His fingers tangle into your hair, blond waves fall, as he collects them wrapping the strands around his wrist. Breaking the kiss, your hands glide across his skin, feeling every harsh breath and ridge before settling between his legs. Every flutter of his butterfly as he breathes, how his abs constrict with each breath like he wants you so badly that it’s painful, and the vein resting next to the perfect v-line of his left hip. Taking a deep breath, your head tilts, meeting his hungry, beautiful gaze as your lips wrap around his head.

He lets out a loud moan, abs jutting, as your tongue twirls and teases. His head lolls back, lips parting while the moans come out so fucking feral; desperate. The grip on your hair loosens as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks with each suck. Honey curls fall you around like a curtain as he cups the back of your head, pushing you to take him deeper, never breaking eye contact. You almost wanna shut yours seeing how much adoration and attention and lust swims in his pretty irises. He starts moving his hips slowly, testing, and relaxing your jaw. His jaw tightens with each thrust, moaning so fucking loud, lips puckering around a needy exhale, “I-fuck-I’m not gonna last.”

Flattening your tongue, a hum in appreciation and that makes him break. The soft green of his eyes darkened as control slips with each thrust. “God, look at how pretty you look wrapped around my cock.” He groans even louder and you gag around him. His hips slow, “You can take it, just like that, so fucking good.”

Your cheeks hollow as his movements grow more frantic. More fucking desperate. Twirling your tongue, he pulls out, cupping your jaw again as he cums. Painting your chest in the most filthy way. Head tilted back, eyes shut, pumping his cock as he whimpers. Blush spreads up his throat, neck vein popping in the sexiest way, and perfect lips parted in pure ecstasy; pure bliss. He’s the most devastating man you’ve ever seen. The minute your gazes meet, your breathing halts. So many emotions battle to come to the surface as lush forests meet raging oceans. The push and pull that is us. This is a moment where you just stare at each other in understanding. Letting your eyes say what you’re afraid to admit out loud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Harry’s voice is gentle and soothing while his fingers trace your jaw before disappearing. You count his footsteps but don’t respond. The weight of what happened crashed into you like a freight train. Your breathing accelerates instead of steading as everything plays out. You don’t want to lose him when this doesn’t work out. The thought comes quickly and like a bucket of ice water. Panic setting in because you can’t lose him. You can’t lose him over one night of weakness. Shit, the uncertainty feels heavy on your chest, heavier than it should because there’s no one you trust more. He’s your best friend.

“Lil?” Hesitantly, your eyes snap to your favorite shade of green. Allowing them to travel his peaceful features, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Everything about him is relaxed and unguarded as he starts cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. The light stubble on his sharp jaw to pink parted lips to the freckles on the bridge of his nose that you wouldn’t see unless you were close enough. Your fingertips ache to trace the path, feel each little freckle and plane of his face, until they’re touching his pink lips. Sometimes, you wish memories worked like photographs or something so you could accurately remember how being in his arms feels. How finally being his feels until unrelenting reality hits. You’re not his, Grace is, and that hurts worse than you thought. His lips tip into a left-sided smile, “There she is.”

“Here I am,” You smile back, cheekbone gently compressed by his long fingers.

Dark curls sticking up in different directions, evergreen eyes following every detail of your face, a red hue dusting across his cheeks, and his once parted lips tugging into a sleepy smirk, “You still with me, Lil?”

“Always.” The word came out fast because you were with him. Maybe too with him. “Gonna get dressed real quick.” A giggle escapes your lips, “Don’t have the money for Ellie’s therapy bill if she walks in.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, running a hand through long curls, “She’d probably ask to join.”

Your phone buzzes two times and something inside you freezes. You know it’s Rylan, no one else but him and Harry text you this late. The playful expression on Harry’s face slowly drains into something that resembles pain as he hands it to me. The sudden change makes your stomach turn in the worst way.

From: Ry (2:30 am)

Sorry about tonight.

From: Ry (2:31 am)

Can’t lose you over a stupid argument, Lil. I know you and Styles are just friends and you wouldn’t touch him. Sorry for being a jealous prick.

That stomach-sinking guilt comes back full force and causes your mouth to flood with saliva. You pull the Nirvana shirt over your head and turn to explain but he’s already looking at the wall. His jaw tense, so tense that the hinges are bulging, but expression is stoic. He swallows, the columns in his throat tense then relax showing just how hard the salvia was to get down. You linger on his side profile for a second, appreciating the beautiful yet masculine planes of his face, before clearing your throat. He blinks a few times before turning slowly to meet your eyes. The words rush out of your mouth, “Harry-”

Playful evergreen darkened to forest green, “I better go.”

You jump to your feet, following behind him quickly, desperate to explain. His back to you, broad shoulders sagging, as he works to unlatch your window. The glass opens with a thud and you expect him to leave but he doesn’t. Ring-clad fingers grasp the ledge, knuckles blanch, as he just breathes. You count to fifteen waiting for him to look at you but he doesn’t. 240 long, excruciating seconds pass. Exhaling harshly, his voice is hoarse, “We need to tal-“

“Friends?” You blurt, not letting him finish. Needing to know you’re okay, eyes volleying between him and the notification on your phone.

He pauses, hand resting on the windowsill, so much pain in those evergreen eyes you love so much. There he was, always taking care of you. Even if it means hurting him.

“Yeah, Lil.”

Your attention stays on the window as he slips out without giving you a chance to respond. Everything smells like him, a mouthwatering mixture of fresh laundry, peppermint, and something earthy like the wind. Even your skin has traces of him that you don’t think you’d be able to wash off. The memory of tonight permanently embedded into you and there is no denying it. How his mouth felt, his hands on you, the sound of his raspy voice slowly ruining you for anyone else.

What the fuck did you just do?

[ashipiko]

—NIKO CIMARRON

All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆

—MORE UNDER CUT

BASIC INFORMATION:

Class: 2-A

Birthday: October 24

Height: 176cm

Dominant Hand: Right

From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands

Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)

Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Likes: Making a profit

Dislikes: Getting outsmarted

Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things

Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot

Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth

GALLERY:

VOICE CLAIM:

YUU’S INTERVIEW:

— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —

for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.

There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.

> You know what I’m here for, Niko.

> Why are you surprised?

No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…

It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡

> I think it matches your vibe.

> You’re one to talk.

Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.

…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.

> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.

> (…They’re cuter than expected.)

Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.

It’s about time to start though, huh?

> Yeah.

> No more wasting time.

INTERVIEW: START!

1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?

A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.

> No thanks.

> Why not?

They’re tasty, I prommie~.

2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?

Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.

3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?

Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.

If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?

Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.

4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?

Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.

If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.

5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?

Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!

> Not the focus of the question.

> That’s not…!

It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡

> Again, no thanks.

> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.

Keep me in mind~.

6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?

…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.

> You are annoying, but…

> (Would it be mean to say something?)

I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.

Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.

…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡

> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.

> Really, it’s fine, Niko…

Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡

Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?

> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.

> (That was a quick turnaround.)

…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.

INTERVIEW: END!

> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)

> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)

.

.

.

TRIVIA:

Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if this were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.

He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.

He can be considered a fan of Vil.

Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.

Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone making moves on him.

Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.

He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.

Niko feels very guilting for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.

Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.

Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have.

Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.

More to be added!

[onyxmilk]

Twilight x f!Reader; “Missing” (p2)

notes; part 2 to this !! sorry for the long wait :( !! tw; fem!reader wc; 1.5k tl; @dianexo-v @mr-underhills-things @solaeirr @lenguasdegatofan @0vendettaself @sassy-cat-in-town @dreaminmemories

Twilight opened the front door, nodding when he saw Franky and smiled when he saw Anya. They had just come back after their outing to the cafe, but rather than looking excited, Franky had a frantic look on his face. “Bro, we need to talk. A-S-A-P.” Franky said, cutting to the chase as if the matter was urgent. Twilight nodded, sensing the seriousness in Franky’s voice before sending Anya off to her room and sitting down with Franky. Currently, Yor was out and Anya had wanted some uncle time, it was the perfect opportunity for Twilight to give updates on his mission.

“Remember [AgentName]?” Franky asks, Twilight deadpanned for a moment giving Franky a weird look. “Yes..? Franky, that’s my wife.” Twilight whisper yelled, Franky just chuckled nervously in response, “Well, she hasn’t received any messages from you in the last two freaking years.” The short man says. That explained a lot.

Twilight sighed, “That explains the lack of messages in return..” The blond said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But get this, you’re a real father too.” Franky mentioned before making an explosion noise with his mouth and doing some motion with his hands.

Loid choked on his drink, “Pardon?” he asked as he coughed up some of the drink. “You have a daughter, like a biological one!” Franky said, seemingly the only excited one of the two about this news. “And she didn’t tell me?” Loid whispered softly, mostly to himself, Franky shrugged. “She seemed hurt that you hadn’t reached out, maybe that’s why..” Franky replied, Loid just held his head.

He had been reaching out, someone or something had been cutting contact between him and his wife. He had told her not to contact him unless he contacted her first- but here he sat regretting that choice. “I should get going..” Franky said standing up, “Wait, if I can’t trust Nightfall to deliver messages to The Handler, can you deliver a message to her directly?” Loid asked.

Franky acted like he was thinking, making Loid shake his shoulders, “Fine.” Franky gave in. Loid wrote a long message before tucking into the envelope and handed it to Franky. Franky signed and took the paper before heading out and to where Twilight and [AgentName] lived and slipped the envelope into the mailbox and went on his way.

It would be the following afternoon when [YourName] opened her mailbox and found a piece of mail addressed to her using her agent name. [YourName]’s heart skipped a beat, she grabbed the remaining mail and rushed back inside. Luckily, Lotte was sound asleep, napping.

[YourName] carefully opened the envelope, fearful of what was inside. Divorce papers? An apology? Or a mission? She had no idea, she had hoped it was the middle option, but half of her wouldn’t blame Twilight if he chose to divorce her.

“To my Sweet Angel,”

Okay, well seems good so far…

“I want to start this letter off with an apology, for it seems the messages I’ve been sending for the last two years haven’t graced your beautiful (EyeColor) colored eyes, and that absolutely breaks my heart. You deserve a night out, alone, with me, though I won’t be able to serve that up for another six months. This mission is almost over and I’ll return to your arms, along with our child that I’ve just been told about. Why didn’t you reach out? Two years, Angel, and not once did you break protocol. As much as I appreciate it, when you’re going through desperate times, i.e. giving birth to our first born, is definitely a great reason to do so. I hope I haven’t missed too much, just as I miss your face…

-Twilight”

[YourName] broke down into tears, thanking whatever god out there that existed for this message. She gently brought the paper up to her face as she cried, unintentionally sniffing it and getting a whiff of that cologne Twilight had spread across their bedsheets on days he didn’t feel like showering before a nap.

[YourName] could hardly believe that Twilight hadn’t asked for a divorce. That it was all some miscommunication, not even on her end, but on his. Half of her was pissed, was he trying to seamlessly dance his way back into her life? She didn’t know if she was exactly ready for that, if Lotte could handle that.

With a sigh, [YourName] placed the letter on the kitchen counter. She had to prepare to write some sort of response, she was hurt but happy to hear from her husband. Why didn't he try other ways to contact you beforehand? It broke her heart to know he hadn't thought of delivering a message to the handler himself.

[YourName] brushed those thoughts away and decided to make herself a snack, then one for Lotte as well, preparing for when she woke up. While the woman ate her snack, she watched some tv show until she heard her daughter's cries. She set her bowl down and headed toward the nursery. [YourName] scooped Lotte up and comforted her while opening the curtains.

Lotte was only two, but she could always tell when something was off with her mother. When she was finished getting changed into some afternoon clothing, Lotte made it her mission to make her mother feel better. She tried sharing her food, cuddling [YourName], and other things toddlers could do- but nothing seemed to work.

"Mama! Mama!" Lotte cried rushing toward her mother, who sat on the couch and seemed lost in thought. "Hold!" Lotte said, handing her favorite stuffed animal to her mother, which finally broke [YourName] and she was in tears once more. Lotte gasped, climbing the couch and hugging her mother's arm. [YourName] brought her daughter in for a proper hug, kissing Lotte's head.

"How do you feel about meeting.. someone important to mama?" [YourName] asked, not letting it leak that this important someone was, in fact, Lotte's father. She wasn't even sure if Lotte knew what a 'father' was- it's not like she's in any schooling yet, all she knew is what she saw in her cartoons and her mother. Lotte looked like she was thinking, but she eventually nodded her head, "Yay!" she said.

A little was taken off of her shoulders, and after dinner that night while Lotte watched her cartoon, [YourName] wrote a reply to Twilight. It wasn't long, but it definitely wasn’t just your run-of-the-mill letter. To summarize her note to her husband, she basically said she was ready to meet up with him whenever he was ready.

The following morning, [YourName] delivers the message to The Handler who gets it to Twilight in no time.

Twilight was sitting at his desk when he received the letter, he thought- 'oh just another side mission' but when he opened and saw [YourName]'s handwriting, he melted. He took in the gentleness of the handwriting and how carefully it was folded, he even hesitated- but sniffed the paper, and just as he thought, it smelt just like the home you two shared.

After reading your note, Twilight cleared his schedule and sent a message to The Handler to send [YourName] to the hospital with their child. So, without questioning him, The Handler did just that. At first, [YourName] was confused why she was given direct orders to pick up Lotte from the babysitter's and go to the hospital, then it clicked in her head who she was going to go see.

"You know, Lotte, this is the hospital you were born in." [YourName] tells her daughter, the toddler just gasped at the news, "Woah!" She says in awe as the driver parks and lets [YourName] and Lotte out. "I'll be just a call away." The driver says before [YourName] could shut the door, she nods her head, shuts the door, and the driver leaves.

Walking into the hospital was something else. [YourName] saw familiar faces from the agency, and a nurse or two that checked in on her when she was in labor, it was all just a lot. Half of [YourName] wanted to chicken out, rush back outside and call for the driver- but she didn't. She couldn’t.

She made her way to Twilight's hallway, found the door to his office, and sighed before knocking. Lotte was on her hip, "Where, Mama?" Lotte asked. "We're seeing that important someone to mama, that's where we are." [YourName] replied softly, just then the door opened and there stood her husband, her daughter's father, the love of her life- Twilight.

"Oh my goodness.." Twilight whispered before ushering the two inside his office, he shut the door and went to hug both Lotte and [YourName]. [YourName] returned the hug with her free hand and softly breathed in her husband's scent, "I've missed you.." Twilight whispered to her. [YourName] smiled softly, nodding her head.

Eventually, [YourName] set Lotte down, allowing the toddler to play with the different toys that Twilight had out for planned clients he had canceled on for the day. "She looks like you.." Twilight said, admiring his daughter for the first time, "Really? I think she looks like her father," [YourName] replied with a sad smile.

After about an hour, and a snack, Lotte was out on the couch. Which finally left Twilight and [YourName] alone to talk. Before anything words could slip out, [YourName] slapped Twilight across the face before bringing him in for a kiss. "Don't think you're just getting away from the last two years, I'm absolutely pissed with you." [YourName] whispered to her husband before kissing him again.

[wannabeschyulersister]

but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Who’s bright idea was it for us to have the party at our place?” You asked as you took a good look at the mess that was surrounding you.

“Richie. He somehow got out of hosting this year.”

“What a dick.” You joked. Well, kinda.

The staff of The Bear were known to party hard. It was evident by the state of your apartment. Everyone was excited to let loose and ring in the new year together. It had been a hectic couple of months to say the least.

New Year’s was one of your favorite holidays. It was a fresh start to new beginnings. It was also your third new year with Carmen.

“Where should we get started?”

Carmen wrapped his arms around you, “We should just go back to bed.”

“I would love to go back to bed but I can’t in good conscience knowing that we have a wreck here.” You told him as he kissed your cheek.

He groaned playfully and gave you a small squeeze, “I know. I forget that you’re a clean freak.”

“The faster we do this, the quicker we can get back in bed, Berzatto.”

“And what exactly would we do once we’re back in bed?”

“Well, I was thinking….”You leaned in closer and lightly grazed your lips against his. Just as he moved to seal the deal, you tilted your head back, “We can finally start that rewatch of Gilmore Girls.”

Carmen groaned and laughed, “That’s not what I was thinkin’ we should do.”

“Trust me, I know. You gotta get your mind out of the gutter,” you smiled, “Let’s have a game plan. Start in the living room and then finish in the kitchen.”

Carmen grabbed two garbage bags and handed you one. The both of you began picking up trash scattered around the room. You grabbed an empty champagne bottle and placed it in your bag.

“I loved the idea of people taking photos with the Polaroid this year. I’m sure we got some great shots.” You grabbed the stack that was on the floor.

Carmen moved closer to see the photos, “Is that someone’s ass?”

You chuckled, “That’s Richie’s.”

Carmen looked at you puzzled, “How the hell are you able to tell that his bare ass?”

“You can see the scar where Syd stabbed him.” You pointed out.

“Ah, yeah. Still creepy that you knew instantly.” Carmen laughed.

“Trust me, I hate that I knew it instantly too.” You glanced at the rest of the photos that were in the stack. One of Carmen and yourself caught your eye. Tina snapped the photo of the two of you candidly.

It had been close to midnight and Carmen didn’t want to let you out of his grasp before the countdown began. He wanted to savor the last moments of the year with you before ringing in the new one.

“I think we should put this one on the fridge.” You handed the picture to Carmen and it made him smile.

“Yeah, I like this one.”

“I’m glad that everyone felt comfortable here to let loose. Seeing everyone have a fun night after these last few stressful months was really nice.” You said as you grabbed the broom to sweep up some confetti. The glitter on the floor would be a bitch to clean.

“We have some more stressful months coming up,” Carmen added softly, “I hope everyone will be alright at the end of it.”

You knew he was mostly implying himself. The first year of a new restaurant opening was definitely one of the hardest. Trying to stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of already existing establishments was difficult.

Carmen put the stress of the world on his shoulders. You watched and held his hand through it all. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Everyone is in a completely different place than they were when I first met them. I think you guys will be amazing and The Bear is going to be an absolute success.” You kissed his cheek and it made them a little rosy. He was so adorable when he blushed.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. I mean look who’s running the place. You and Syd. That’s a dream team if I’ve ever seen one.”

“You’re just gassin’ me up.” Carmen was never good at receiving compliments. That didn’t stop you from giving him dozens of them a day.

“No, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth,” you placed a hand on his chest near his heart, “I’m going to be right beside you through the good and the bad.”

Carmen placed his hand on yours. He didn’t outright say that he needed the reassurance but he was so thankful to get it. It was like you could read his mind.

He would often jump the gun and worry about things prematurely. You were the one to try and keep him grounded in the moment.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He said softly before kissing you.

“Ditto, Berzatto. You’re stuck with me for life. I don’t ever want to not know you.”

“If I have it my way, you don’t ever have to worry about that happening.”

“Pinky promise?” You held your hand out with your pinky ready to lock with his.

“It’s a promise.”

[leahwllmsn]

16,904 | leah williamson x reader

so this was something I wrote a few years ago and I decided to change it into a leah fic cause I've been so obsessed :-)

hope you like it!

--

Melbourne

October, 2023

You finally tell your friends that you’ve been talking to someone you met online on a Friday night. The response you got is that they all think you're crazy, and you can’t blame them—saying that you have a tiny crush on this blonde who’s almost twice your height and likes football and country music without actually knowing if this said blonde exists is kind of crazy.

But you really do like talking to Leah and you could only hope that Leah is Leah and not some fifty-year-old man. 

“You don’t even know what she looks like,” one of your friends snorts. 

“It’s not always about the looks,” you argue.

“That’s true,” another one of your friends chimed in. “But you gotta admit, the looks matter a lot.”

You were about to correct her and say no, they do not, because yeah, sure, Leah is so freaking gorgeous based on the pictures on her profile, but what matters the most is that she’s so kind, and funny, and just overall amazing.

Instead you kept your mouth shut. A part of you don’t want to share Leah with anyone just yet. 

(And another part of you still needs the confirmation that that is actually Leah because god damn it Leah is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and you wish that it’s really her.)

—

6 Oct, 9:02 pm

y/n: I told my friends about you. they think it’s weird that I’m starting something with you when we’ve never met  

y/n: it’s not weird, is it? 

leahw6: starting something huh? ;) 

y/n: shut up 

y/n: we met on tinder. what were you expecting to find? a math tutor? 

leahw6: ...  

leahw6: you’re really funny, love

leahw6: and no, it’s not weird 

y/n: good 

y/n: and for the record, even if they think it’s weird I couldn’t care less 

—

6 Oct, 9:25 pm

leahw6: just to be clear 

leahw6: ‘starting something’ that means you want to date me right 

y/n: how else could I mean that 

leahw6: idk maybe you were the one looking for a math tutor 

— 

London

October, 2023

“Where did you meet her again?”

“Tinder.”

“Tinder,” Lia repeats.

“Yes,” Leah nods. “When we were in Australia for the World Cup… I got bored one night and decided to go on Tinder.”

“And you found her there,” Lia muses, sipping on her cup of coffee. “Wait, so she lives in Australia?”

“Melbourne, yes.”

“And does she know you’re all the way here in London?”

Leah hesitates before answering. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh boy,” Lia gives her a sympathetic look. “Does she know who you are?”

“Me… as in Leah?” Leah gives her teammate a confused look. “Yeah?”

“You as in you’re Leah Williamson.”

“Oh,” realization sunk in Leah’s face. “Then no. I mentioned I like football and she said she hates it. So, I doubt she knows who I am.”

“Oh boy.”

“I know,” Leah drops her head on the table. “I’ll tell her soon but what if it’s a deal breaker?” 

“Which part? The part where you’re a famous footballer or you live thousands of kilometers away?”

Leah grimaces “Distance problem. She already said she hates football and wouldn’t dare step foot in a football game, but it’s fine! That’s not a problem because I can and will convince her to watch one of my games.”

Lia laughs. “Sure, buddy.”

“I really like her,” Leah continues. “She’s funny and witty and passive aggressive sometimes but it’s so endearing. She has great taste in music, great taste in movies and books, and just great taste overall—”

Leah’s words get cut off with Lia’s hand on her mouth. “You’ve known her for a few weeks and this is already how you act?” Lia chuckles, taking her hand away. “You got it bad, Williamson.”

Leah groans. “I know.”

“Just tell her now. If she likes you the same way, I have a feeling that she wouldn’t mind either.”

—

24 Oct, 4:13 pm

leahw6: can we talk ?

y/n: sounds serious 

leahw6: kind of 

y/n: are you getting tired of me already :( 

leahw6: ofc not 

y/n: oh okay :D 

leahw6: idk how to say this 

y/n: do you want me to call you? 

leahw6: oh god no 

leahw6: omg wait 

leahw6: I didn’t mean that in a bad way I swear  

leahw6: it’s just that if you call me I’ll be hearing your voice for the first time and I’ll be even more nervous  

leahw6: and I don’t think I’ll be able to put out a coherent sentence bc I’ve been imagining so much what your voice would sound like with that face and all my guesses are that you have an extremely hot voice, raspy maybe?  

leahw6: but actually no I don’t think you have a raspy voice 

leahw6: a deep one maybe and holy shit a deep voice with an australian accent? I’ll faint on the spot I’m afraid  

leahw6: no you can’t call me 

y/n: okay...? 

leahw6: I’m really sorry please ignore all that 

y/n: I won’t ignore it, it’s adorable  

leahw6: you think I’m weird don’t you 

y/n: absolutely 

leahw6: great 

y/n: it just makes me like you even more

leahw6: I live in london 

y/n: as in the one in england … ? 

leahw6: is there another london I don’t know about 

[incoming call from y/n]

leahw6: why are you calling me ?! 

leahw6: I told you I’m too nervous rn 

y/n: I don’t get it. it says that you were 2km away? 

leahw6: yeah… I was on vacation… kind of...

y/n: kind of?

y/n: so you don’t actually live here? 

leahw6: y/n if I was only 2 km away from you I would make up excuses just so I can see you everyday 

y/n: how many km is it instead 

leahw6: between us?

leahw6: google says it’s 16,904 km

y/n: ??! holy shit 

leahw6: I know 

leahw6: look, I get it if you want to stop this. not everyone is cut out for long distance

y/n: we’re like

y/n: on opposite sides of the world

leahw6: I know

y/n: do you want to stop this? 

leahw6: I don’t 

y/n: then we won’t 

leahw6: are you sure 

y/n: let me call you 

leahw6: NO 

y/n: leah

leahw6: give me a day to prepare 

y/n: you’re so dumb

y/n: but fine 

y/n: do I at least get a facetime

leahw6: FACETIME? 

leahw6: no. you get a phone call. voice only

y/n: r u catfishing 

y/n: I knew it you’re too beautiful to be real 

leahw6: ha ha 

y/n: call me tomorrow okay lee? 

leahw6: okay

leahw6: and y/n

leahw6:  thank you

y/n: what for

leahw6: for giving us a chance

y/n: leah I’d be stupid not to 

—

Melbourne

November, 2023

You're in the middle of a meeting with boring, old men in suits when your phone rings—very loudly at that. You curse yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, quickly pressing the red circle on the screen, but not before smiling at the caller ID.

When the meeting finishes an hour later, you immediately pick up your phone and dial Leah’s number.

“Hey you.” 

You smile at the voice on the other end. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I was in a meeting.”

“Oh sorry, bad timing. Thought you were finished for the day”

“Bad timing indeed,” you chuckle. “It rang really loudly.”

“Y/n,” you could hear Leah’s soft giggles. “The silent feature exists for a reason.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you take a seat in your office chair and sigh contently. “I’m glad it rang though.”

“How so?” 

“I saw your name and my mood instantly picked up.”

Leah snorts. “You’re such a sweet talker, mate.” 

You throw her head back in laughter. “But it’s true!”

Leah doesn’t say anything after that, all you could hear is the sound of chatter and honking of cars. “Where are you?”

“I just had breakfast, I’m walking to the… office.”

“You called me when you were having breakfast? Am I that much more interesting than whoever you were with?” you ask, your tone teasing.

“Of course you are,” is Leah’s reply and you could feel your stomach flipping upside down.

“Now who’s the sweet talker?”

“Still you.”

“Says the person who couldn’t stop telling me I’m pretty when we facetimed for the first time.”

Leah laughs and you really, really love the sound. “But you are pretty.”

“But I don’t think I need to hear it every five minutes.”

“Just accept the compliments, love.”

“Okay,” you relent, a grin spreading across your face. “Who did you have breakfast with?”

“Just my team– colleagues. My colleagues, Beth, Viv and Lia.”

You go silent for a few seconds, the last name ringing a bell in your head. “Lia as in your ex?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh.”

Leah must’ve sensed the jealousy in your voice (but honestly, you aren't jealous, you’re really not), because the next thing you know Leah is laughing and telling you that it didn’t work out between her and Lia because they were better off as friends.

“You see her everyday though,” you say, your voice less confident than before.

“And what about it?”

“You don’t see me everyday,” you pout, staring at a polaroid picture of Leah smiling at the camera that is stuck to the wall of your cubicle. Leah sent you a handwritten letter along with that picture a few days ago. Your roommate was the one who received it and it went something like this:

“Oh my god, there’s no way this is your Leah.”

“What?” 

“This! Is this really her?” 

“Is that Lee’s mail for me? Did you open it?!” 

“I got curious!” 

“Give me that!” 

“You never mentioned that she looks like this!” 

“I just haven’t shown you what she looks like ‘cause everyone kept on teasing me!” 

“Because she could be a fake for all we know! But holy shit, she’s soo stunning. Does she have a twin sister?”

“No.”

“A twin brother?” 

“No.” 

“Can I have her instead then?” 

“What the—no?!” 

“Fine, be stingy like that.” 

“...I’m really fine with us like this.”

You blink away images of your roommate in your head and focus your attention back to Leah’s voice. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m okay with not being able to see you everyday,” Leah repeats. “Talking to you over the phone is enough.”

You smile. “It’s enough for me too. It’d be great to have you next to me but this is good too.”

People would think otherwise but for you, having Leah a phone call away really is enough; you'd take hearing Leah's laughter through the phone than not hearing it at all.

—

10 Nov, 1:11 pm

y/n: I got a dog

leahw6: ???!! 

leahw6: Y/N CALL ME OMG 

leahw6: I WANT TO SEE 

y/n: you’re more excited to see him than me :// 

leahw6: YES 

y/n: excuse me 

leahw6: WHAT’S HIS NAME 

y/n: robert 

leahw6: ROBERT? 

y/n: yes, robert 

leahw6: he's now my favourite

leahw6: SEND PICS

y/n: :/ 

y/n:

leahw6: you know you're my favourite too  

y/n: :D 

leahw6: but I think I like robert more than you OMG HE'S ADORABLE!!!!

y/n: bye 

—

London

December, 2023

leahw6:  want to hear a funny story

y/n:  what is it

leahw6:  a guy tried to hit on me tonight

y/n:  excuse me???

[incoming call from y/n] 

“That’s not funny,” is the first thing Leah hears once she accepts the call.

“Hello to you too,” Leah stifles a laugh. You sound tense and Leah can just picture the frown on your face.

“Leah.”

“Yes, babe?” Leah learnt that the quickest way to melt away your anger is to use pet names and so for any argument (even if Leah is in the wrong), Leah would always win.

This time it doesn’t seem to work. “How is that funny again?” 

“Darling, I’m just teasing you.”

“Did a guy really hit on you?”

“Yes,” Leah answers honestly. “He bought me a drink.”

“I see.”

Leah doesn’t like how dejected you sound. So she presses the button for facetime and the first thing she sees when you accept is her girlfriend pouting at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Leah giggles.

“Is all of this funny to you?” you pout even more, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark room.

“Did I wake you up?” Leah asks instead. She knows you like to sleep in on weekends.

“Yes, but that’s fine. You know I want to talk to you any chance I get,” you answer, shifting so that you’re now lying on your side.

“You’re the best,” Leah says as she climbs in bed, tucking herself under the covers.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Unlike that stupid guy who doesn’t know you’re off-limits.”

Leah grins at the annoyed look you’re giving her. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

“It’s so cute when you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I’m jealous. He gets to be within your presence while I’m stuck here, freaking sixteen thousand kilometres away from you. It’s unfair.”

Leah sends her a soft smile. “But you’re the one I’m talking to every day, so who’s the real winner here?” The frown is still present on your face and Leah wants nothing more than to kiss it away—so that’s what she did.

“Leah, what the hell are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Leah answers simply, kissing her screen again.

And when Leah hears laughter from the other end, her heart feels much lighter.

“Lee, have you cleaned your phone? That’s gross.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”

“Cute, but maybe clean your phone first.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you, her smile never leaving her face. “At least I made you laugh.”

“You always make me laugh,” you say, your face so close to her camera that the entirety of Leah’s screen is just a close up of your face. Leah’s heart swells in adoration at the sight.

“Did you have a good night's sleep?” Leah asks.

You hum in answer. “Now it’s your turn to get a good night’s sleep.”

You could see how hard Leah is trying to keep her eyes open.

“This sucks, time difference sucks” Leah pouts. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Baby,” you give her a sad smile. “It is how it is. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

“Yes, captain,” Leah gives you grin, her eyes fully closed.

“Good night, Leah. Sweet dreams.”

You watch Leah go to sleep for a few minutes, the sound of her soft snores making it seem like she’s right next to you. 

That night Leah dreams that you're right next to her, holding her close and keeping her warm on the cold winter night.

[steddiealltheway]

I feel so bad for Steve. Because everyone he surrounds himself with are so highly intelligent. Like not even just smart, they’re off the charts gifted type kids.

And they all think Steve is so dumb. Like, yes he couldn’t get into Tech, but that doesn’t mean he’s the dumbest person to exist. And I especially hate how much they lean into that in season four.

But then Eddie comes along, Eddie who is redoing his senior year for the third time, and he sees Steve.

He recognizes how much the kids and his friends berate him for his ideas and thoughts. And he can’t help but feel the need to reach out and acknowledge how great he really is. That he has qualities other than the great intelligence his friends possess.

And he tries to make sure that Steve knows that it’s alright that he doesn’t know stuff. Like he doesn’t know Ozzy, and that’s okay. He just explains it and moves on to his main point.

He doesn’t get upset when Steve doesn’t understand something. He just slowly explains it to him in multiple ways until he understands - he loves the look Steve gets when he has a lightbulb moment. (Eddie later gives Dustin a speech on patience)

Later on, when Eddie is explaining something to Steve, he doesn’t nod back or ask questions like he usually does. He just stares at Eddie’s lips.

“Steve…?”

Steve hums and quickly looks away from his lips, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Eddie asks slightly amused. Steve doesn’t respond. His mouth opens and closes a few times.

“You can ask me anything, Steve.”

Steve looks at him and swallows loudly. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Have you… have you every had feelings…” Steve trails off and heavily sighs. He starts again, “Can… can people… like… girls and… boys?”

Eddie stares at Steve incredulously and explains, “Yes. They can. It’s called bisexuality.”

“Bisexuality,” Steve parrots.

Eddie nods. Steve seems to grasp the concept quickly, but Eddie can feel that he has more to say. He remains silent.

Eddie doesn’t push it, so he goes back to explaining what he was before.

A few weeks later, Eddie makes his usual Friday night stop at Family Video right before closing. He notices almost all the lights are already off inside, but the door is unlocked. He makes his way inside and winces as he hears Steve’s voice carry from the back room.

“I can’t tell him!”

“Steve, you’re an idiot if you don’t,” Robin says. Eddie winces.

“That’s exactly it! I’m a fucking idiot. I’m an idiot who goes to see him weekly so he can explain the dumbest things to me! And you want me to tell him what? That I have feelings for him?! Me, Steve ‘the dingus’ Harrington loves Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?!”

His voice gets louder by the end as the door to the back room opens up.

Eddie makes eye contact with Steve. He freezes.

“Why’d you stop, Dingus?” Robin asks pushing past him. She looks at Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie and Steve continue staring at each other.

“Well,” Robin says awkwardly, “I’m just gonna…” she gathers her stuff up from the counter and walks towards the front door, “Hey, look. Nancy’s here to pick me up. So that’s great. You two uhh… have a good time. Later…” she salutes the two of them and exits.

Eddie continues staring at Steve who hasn’t broken eye contact with him since he’s seen him.

“Steve…” Eddie breaks the silence.

“Don’t do that,” Steve begs.

“Do what?”

Steve breaks, “Talk to me like that! You’re not supposed to use that tone. You’re not supposed to treat me like I’m stupid. And I know I am. But you weren’t supposed to find out about my… my feelings. Because I’m an idiot. And you would never date an idiot. No one loves a fucking idiot.”

Eddie jumps over the counter and rushes into Steve’s personal space, grabbing his hands. “Steve, I have never thought you were dumb. You’re not. You never have been. But right now, for once, you’re being an idiot.”

Steve’s hands snap away from Eddie’s. “What?”

“You, Steve Harrington, are an idiot for thinking that I wouldn’t fall for you. That I haven’t already.”

Steve stares at Eddie and shakes his head.

“I like you,” Eddie explains. It clicks in his head that sometimes Steve is a visual and kinesthetic learner. So he does the one thing he can think of and cups Steve jaw and brings him slowly in.

Steve’s hands make their way into his hair and pull him the rest of the distance. The kiss is sweet and gentle and full of promise.

Steve breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Eddie’s. He huffs out a laugh, “Was that your way of explaining to me that you like me?”

“Did it work?” Eddie asks.

“Yes.”

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

I Guess So

masterlist

summary: butcher is furious when he learns you’re a supe.

pairing: billy butcher x female supe!reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.3k

warnings: language, butcher being a complete asshole, cancer

timeline: set in an au after season 3 — in a world where becca doesn’t exist and butcher got into supe-hunting when his sister went missing.

author’s note: when i reference the flash/barry allen i’m picturing grant gustin, not ezra miller lol

It was a quiet day in the office. Everyone was going through the several boxes of information on Vought that they had gathered at the last hospital they investigated.

“Jack pot!” Hughie exclaimed.

“What’d you find?” MM asked from across the room, head still down as he stayed focused on the box he was working on.

“There’s tons of names here of babies Vought dosed,” Hughie said. “And pictures of them now, looks like they were keeping tabs on the ones that didn’t go great.”

“Makes sense,” MM replied. “If one went off the rails they’d wanna know.”

“But why risk it?” Annie wondered out loud. “Why would Vought want these Compound V babies out there if they didn’t respond well to the serum?”

“Yeah, knowing Vought it’d make more sense to round ‘em up and put ‘em down,” Frenchie said.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Hughie’s eyes widened a little as his brows furrowed. “Uh, Y/n? Do you have a twin?”

“No, why?” you asked half-heartedly, buried deep in the box you were looking through. You had found some info on Temp-V and were hoping there was something in there that could help Butcher.

You were confused as to why Hughie hadn’t answered you so you looked up from your desk. Hughie was now standing at Annie’s desk as she read over the papers he’d just handed her. Frenchie and Kimiko looked up from their desks but didn’t bother going to see what all the fuss was about.

“Uh, MM,” Annie called him over. When he saw what Annie and Hughie were so freaked out over, his eyes widened.

“Holy fucking shit,” MM mumbled before he glanced at you. Annie tapped his arm a little and pointed at something written near the bottom of the page.

“What’s wrong you guys?” you asked, even though you had an idea about what they could be looking at.

You thanked your lucky stars Butcher had left to get lunch for the team, even though you knew you’d have to confront him about it at some point. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t mean to keep it from him! But you were putty in his fucking hands and when he said he didn’t like Supe’s you weren’t gonna tell him what you had coursing though your veins. And after the ‘I love you’s had been said it seemed too late.

“Anything you wanna tell us, Y/n?” MM asked.

“Please don’t tell Butcher,” you said.

“‘Don’t tell Butcher’? Seriously, Y/n? You’re sure that’s what you wanna say?” Annie asked, silently begging you to just come clean.

“Don’t tell me what?” Butcher stepped into the office and you stood up quickly. “What’re you guys all looking at?”

He put down the food and took a few steps closer to where MM, Hughie, and Annie were. Before MM could move the papers around and help you keep your secret a little longer, Butcher grabbed what he was holding and started reading. By the time he finished, angered tears were forming in his eyes before he looked at you.

“You’re a fucking Supe?” Butcher asked you through gritted teeth. You stayed silent, completely frozen as he stormed over to you, papers still in his hand. “Fucking answer me!”

“Y-Yes,” you said quietly, unable to look him in the eyes as he towered over you. (He wasn’t that much taller than you, but right now you felt about two feet tall and didn’t dare look up at him.)

“What’s this mean?” He pointed to a note at the bottom of the pages. “‘Full power unknown’? ‘Extremely dangerous’?” he read. “What the fuck are your powers, Y/n?”

“Billy, please-”

“Oh, no, no, no! Don’t fucking dare Billy me! Answer the goddamn question!”

“I can sometimes run really fast,” you mumbled

“The fuck you mean, ‘sometimes’?”

“The Compound V in my system randomly acts up and I can run like the Flash. It’s always temporary, never lasts longer than a day or two.” (You could’ve used A-Train as an example instead of Barry Allen, but given your audience you made the right call.)

Butcher looked at you and for a second you thought he might just pull you into a hug as tears slipped down your cheeks as well as his.

“Fuck you,” he spat. “How dare you fucking lie to me, about this of all fucking things!”

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Sorry don’t fuckin’ cut it, love,” he said, teeth clenching again.

“Please, Billy I love you so fucking much!” You tried taking his hand in yours.

“No!” He pulled his hand back. “You fucking lied to me.”

“I had to! You said you hated Supe’s and I didn’t want you hating me!”

“Good job with that,” he scoffed, hurt flashing over your features. “Fuck you.”

He turned away from you before leaving the office, ignoring the others as they asked him where he was going.

**

MM was the first to talk to you about the whole ordeal; he went to your apartment that night to see how you were doing.

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door. He pulled you into a quick but tight hug.

“You could’ve told me, you know,” he whispered before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry about Butcher, has he talked to you since?”

“No,” you shook your head, “but he, uh, I think he’s done with me.”

“I’m sure he just needs time,” he tried to assure you as you both walked to the couch before sitting down.

“He came by and got all his stuff, MM,” you said. “It must’ve been right after he stormed out of the office because when I got home all his shit was gone and the key I gave him was on the nightstand.”

“Fuck,” MM mumbled. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“It’s my own fault, I should’ve fuckin’ told him.”

“Yeah, but he’s always saying shit about Supe’s,” he countered. “He has to understand why you wouldn’t tell him.”

“But I’m not even technically a real Supe! When I’m not fast all I get is the bad side effects of Compound V—headaches, nausea, blurred vision—it fucking sucks!”

“I gotta ask, did Butcher really never notice?”

“He did, I just never told him the real reason. He was worried about my headaches and even asked me to see a doctor. I told him I did and they said it was nothing serious. I think that’s why he’s so mad at me; it’s not the Compound V, it’s the fact I’ve lied to him so fucking much.”

“I think he’s gonna get over it,” MM said. “I think he’s gonna realize how fucking miserable he is without you and just how happy you make him.”

You scoffed a little, “Don’t give me false hope.”

“I’m serious! You didn’t know pre-you Butcher! He was a complete asshole! Now? He’s… Well, he’s still an asshole but he’s not as annoying as he used to be.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “I remember when I first caught on that he liked you; he’d try not to raise his voice, he’d make room for you to sit next to him on the couch, so many little things about him changed whenever you walked into the motherfuckin’ room.”

“He wasn’t like that before?” You smiled, feeling those familiar butterflies over the thought of Billy fucking Butcher having a crush on you.

“Never!” MM assured you. “You need to give him time and space right now, but I know he still loves you.”

**

The next morning you went to work, not knowing what else to really do. If Butcher didn’t want to see you, he didn’t have to come in.

When you got there and saw him at his desk (which was now moved a few feet further from your own) you knew you made a mistake.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Butcher asked.

“She’s part of the team,” Hughie said.

“Come off it! She fucking lied to all of us! She’s a fucking Supe!”

“And we get why she lied!” Annie came to your defense.

“A Supe defending another Supe, what else is new?” he grumbled.

“Butcher,” Hughie warned.

“Alright, let’s take a fuckin’ vote, how about?” Butcher suggested.

“Sure,” MM said. “All those in favor of Y/n staying on the team?” He raised his hand as Hughie, Annie, Frenchie, and Kimiko did the same.

“Five against one,” Frenchie commented.

“Supe’s don’t get a fucking vote,” Butcher said.

“Still three against one,” MM replied. “She’s staying on the team.”

“Butcher-” you started but he cut you off.

“Stay the hell away from me,” Butcher told you. “Don’t you fucking talk to me or touch me or even fucking look at me!”

**

It was a couple days later and you were pouring yourself a cup of coffee when Butcher walked up beside you, clearly wanting coffee as well. You decided you weren’t gonna move from where you stood in front of the little coffee station MM had set up a few months ago. If you stood your ground, Butcher would either have to ask you to move or push you out of the way.

He was getting impatient as you stayed and took a sip of your fresh cup of coffee. You let out a content sigh hoping it would further aggravate him and cause him to say something, anything to you—he’d managed to successfully give you the silent treatment since his angry voting speech.

“Get the fuck outta the way,” he said and you took a step to the side before he instantly went to pour himself a cup.

You were about to gloat a little but when you looked at his face you could tell he hadn’t slept the night before.

“How’d you sleep last night?” you asked, genuinely concerned as you furrowed your brows and turned to look at him more intently.

“Fuckin’ great, I didn’t have a Supe sleepin’ next to me,” he countered. “And don’t fuckin’ talk to me, if it was up to me you woudln’t still fuckin’ be here.”

“So you’d really be okay with me just getting the hell outta here? Never seeing me again?” you asked.

“Drop fuckin’ dead for all I care!” He shrugged a little and took a sip of his coffee before he finally turned to look at you.

“Huh.” You nodded, tears quickly flooding your eyes. “You know what,” you shook your head a little, “fuck you, Butcher.”

“What, now you bruise easy?”

“I have put up with so much shit from you. I have stayed with you through it all and I have proved to you time and fucking time again that I genuinely love and care about you. But this one thing you can’t let go? This one, stupid thing that was given to me without my fucking consent?”

“You lied to me, Y/n!”

“You’ve lied to me, too! You looked me in the eyes and said you weren’t gonna take Temp V then you fucking took it! And what did I do? I stayed up with you all fucking night as you hurled green shit into the toilet! Then you promised you wouldn’t take it again, but you did. And I was angry, but I loved you and I realized you were just doing what you thought was right so again I stayed with you as you puked. I even fucking kissed you after you barely rinsed your mouth out because I just wanted you to know I loved you!” You continued looking at him as his angered expression slowly softened. “And after you learned about the cancer?

“After you made me swear to just ignore it and act like you didn’t have a year to live? I stopped worrying about it in front of you. Instead I lost countless nights of sleep because I’ve been pouring through every bit of research Vought has on Temp V. I even managed to get files that only existed in physical copies kept at Vought Tower. I would’ve done anything for you Butcher because I thought you loved me too.

“The fact you can’t see why I felt I had to lie to you about the shit I’ve got pumping through my veins is ridiculous. And just so we’re clear—you can hate me all you want, but you better start acting fucking professional when we’re on the clock because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Did you have that whole speech planned just to try and get me to fold?” he asked, scoffing a little.

“Fuck you,” you said before brushing past him.

**

It had been nearly two weeks since Butcher and the others found out you were (kind of) a Supe. Everyone except Butcher had gotten over it by now and had even been asking you questions about your “powers”.

Hughie had asked you; “Can you tell when you’re able to run fast? Or is it you’ll be jogging and suddenly you’re miles away from where you meant to be?”

To which you had replied; “No, I can tell when I’m able to run fast; but I can’t predict when it’s gonna happen, you know? Like I have no control over it, I just sometimes know that if I were to try, I’d be able to go super fast.”

Kimko had asked you; “On the days you don’t have your powers, do you ever wish you did? Or are you relieved when you wake up and realize you don’t have them for right now?” (She had texted you while you were seated across from her.)

You had said aloud; “It tends to hurt on the days my powers don’t work. I get really bad headaches and sometimes they’re so bad that I actually puke. I’m happier on the days I can run, not because I’m fast, but simply because I don't have all the bad side effects.”

Butcher managed to ignore you since the coffee incident. He only ever spoke to you about work and never saw you outside the office. Not that you’d admit it, but you missed him like crazy. You hated sleeping without him, you hated waking up and only cooking breakfast for yourself, and you absolutely hated not being able to talk to him about all the random shit you two used to talk about.

He missed you too, though he never showed it. He was losing sleep over how he was treating you, but he figured you wouldn’t want him now. You both knew he only had a little over six months left (nine at most) and he wasn’t gonna go crawling back to you just to die. If he did, you would’ve welcomed him with open arms; wanting nothing more than to hold him while he ignored the inevitable.

**

“Everyone knows the plan?” Butcher asked the group, looking into the back of the truck from the passenger seat. “In and out, no fucking around and finding out what happens when we mess with this guy?”

You and the others beside you (Annie, Kimiko, Frenchie, and MM) nodded.

“I’ll keep the engine running,” Hughie said. “Once we see this guy leave you’ve all got twenty minutes until he’s back—but leave time for getting in and out, so safeside ten minutes.”

“Any questions? We all know what we’re looking for?” Butcher asked, earning nothing but nods. You raised your hand a little and he sighed with (what seemed like) annoyance; “What?” he asked.

“Uhm, not a question, more like a comment, my uhm, my powers just…turned on?” you told Butcher, and therefore the others in the car. “So just…”

“That’s actually great,” Hughie said. “Thank you for sharing, Y/n.”

“Whatever,” Butcher mumbled.

Another few minutes went by before the Supe left his house and you all broke in.

As everyone looked for what they came for (a file stolen from the office that detailed all the crimes this particular Supe had done with proof that would land him in prison) you noticed something strange in the corner of the living room.

“Is that a camera?” you exclaimed.

Before anyone could answer several shots rang loud through the house. Using your powers, you looked and quickly realized three bullets were headed directly for the back of Butcher’s head. He was looking under a desk on the other side of the room and if you didn’t hurry, he’d be dead in less than a second.

You ran and got between the bullets and Butcher; crouching down and letting them hit you square in the back.

“What the fuck!” the man holding the gun exclaimed. Before he could take another shot, Kimko tackled him and held him down.

Butcher looked at you, his eyes wide as you both realized what you’d just done. You looked down at your chest, fully expecting to be gushing blood.

“You’re fucking bulletproof?” Butcher asked, a sense of awe in his tone.

“I guess so.” You furrowed your brows a little, still looking down and not really believing you weren’t dying. As you stood up, the bullets fell off your back and onto the floor. “Wow,” you muttered, “I’m fuckin’ bulletproof.”

“You…” Butcher looked at you as he stood up as well. He put a hand on your shoulder, turning you so he could look at your back—three small holes in your jacket and shirt, but your skin unfazed. “You just…You were ready to die for me?” He turned you back and looked down into your eyes, keeping his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, I wasn’t about to let you die,” you mumbled, looking up at him. You then looked at his hand and smiled a little before looking back at him. You were prepared to make a snide remark about how he was suddenly willing to touch you, but you kept your mouth shut when you saw his eyes brimming with tears.

He wrapped one arm around your shoulders while the other went around your torso. It actually took you a moment to realize he was in fact hugging you but when you did, you put your arms around him too; one going around his shoulders, the other around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes to keep the tears from falling. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you mumbled, reveling in the feeling of him holding you. You sensed he was about to pull away so you tightened your grip, not ready to let him go just yet, which caused him to do the same.

“I hate to break up this long-overdue hug,” MM said, “but I found the folder, we should take this guy in.”

“We’ll meet you in the truck,” Butcher replied, not opening his eyes or moving a muscle. “Cuff him.”

When everyone was out of the room, you whispered; “I really do forgive you, Butcher.”

“Thank you,” he replied, matching your tone. “Still can’t fuckin’ believe you risked your life for a guy who’s got about six months to live.”

**

That night you went to Butcher’s apartment and when he opened the door, he seemed surprised; “What’re you doing here?” he asked, letting you walk in.

“A couple months ago, I broke into the labs at Vought Tower and stole a shit ton of files they had on Temp V. I got the name of one of the doctors that helped make it, and I found his address. I was ready to threaten him to get him to find a cure for the Temp V side effects but when I explained my situation he said he’d help me willingly. He said he was actually already working on a cure without Vought knowing, because he felt insanely guilty about the fact Temp V kills people. He succeeded. He found a cure and he’s used it to make a new form of Temp V that gives you powers for a day while healing you and at the end of it, you should be back to your old self.”

“Wait, what?” Butcher furrowed his brows. “Why didn’t you tell me weeks ago you’ve been working with this guy?’

“One, I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Two, you told me to pretend you weren’t sick so we could enjoy the time we had left together. And three, he needed my blood for the new Temp V. Turns out I’m like the Ultimate Temp V Supe, and with my blood he was able to make the new serum. Also, I just came from his house, he perfected the new serum last night and texted me this morning. I was gonna come here tonight whether or not you wanted me near you, and I told the doctor if I didn’t meet up with him by the end of the week he should contact Hughie Campbell at Supe Affairs. I figured if something happened to me, Hughie would make sure you got the cure.”

“So…there really is a cure?”

You reached into your jacket pocket and took out the small bag containing a couple vials of the new Temp V and two empty syringes.

“It’ll either kill you quicker or you’ll be cancer free tomorrow,” you told him, handing over the bag before he looked inside. “You don’t have to risk it, but I wouldn’t be giving it to you if I didn’t one-hundred-percent believe it’s safe. If you don’t trust me, I understand and we can pretend-”

“Of course I trust you,” he cut you off. “And of course I wanna be fuckin’ cured, but this seems almost too good to be true?”

“I know.” You smiled. “The doctor tested it on himself and showed me the proof—he’s taken five doses over the last two weeks and he’s healthier than ever.”

“How long did he have powers?”

“Twenty-four-hours,” you said. “But he had the same side effects as the first Temp V; puking, headaches, all that shit. But, after everything, he was fine—no long term or deadly side effects.”

“If I take this…will you please stay with me while it lasts?” he asked quietly, not wanting to go through it all alone.

“I was planning to, whether you wanted me here or not,” you admitted.

“Thank you.”

You both sat down on the couch and you watched as Butcher took the serum, his eyes lighting up the same way they did before. He tossed the used syringe on the end table next to the couch and leaned back, allowing the serum to do its job and he could almost feel his strength come back.

“How’s it feel?” you asked.

“Fuckin’ hurts,” he said, “but I’m okay. It’s better than wastin’ away.”

“You can say that again,” you mumbled. “Can I scoot closer to you?” you asked, not wanting to be close unless he wanted you to be.

“Please,” he said and moved his arm to the back of the couch as you moved to sit right beside him.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, not really enjoying how quiet things had gotten.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he admitted. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot for how I acted, and you have every right to hate me, but thank you for not leaving when I told you to. Thank you for not walking out of my life for good.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Hm?”

“The only reason I didn’t leave was because I needed to know where you were when I got my hands on the cure. Once I knew you were healthy, I had planned to leave like you asked.”

He moved his arm from the couch and instead rested it on your shoulders; “Are you still planning to leave?”

“Only if you don’t ask me to stay,” you said honestly. “If you want to go back to the way things were a month ago, I’ll happily stay. But if you’re still freaked out about the fact I’m a Supe, I won’t bother you again once I know you’re okay.”

“Please stay,” he said. “I’m sorry about the shit I’ve said and done the past three weeks, but please stay.”

“Stay working at the bureau? Or stay…with you?”

“You can’t quit the bureau, you’re the smartest fuckin’ person there,” he said, making you laugh a little.

“I dunno, Hughie’s pretty smart too,” you teased.

There was another silent pause as Butcher thought of what to say. He couldn’t just ask you to take him back, that didn’t seem fair. He couldn’t just say he’d take you back, because that was even worse. He knew he fucked up big time, and any future the two of you had was entirely up to you at this point.

“Do you want to go back to the way things were?” you asked him quietly.

“I really, really do,” he whispered. “But I was too much of an asshole to deserve another chance with you.”

“After everything we’ve been through together, I’d rather just let all the shit we’ve done be water under the bridge, if that’s okay with you. Just let the lies we’ve both told slide and try to be more honest with each other from now on. Personally, I’ve got nothing else to hide and I know there’s nothing you could say or do that would make me stop loving you.”

“You still love me?”

“Of course,” you said. “Do you…love me?”

“Never stopped,” he mumbled. “And I’d really like all the shit to be water under the bridge too if you’re really willing to forgive me for everything.”

“So it’s settled then; all the stupid, fucked up things we’ve both done up until this point are forgiven and we can go back to normal?”

“I love you so much,” he said, smiling a little as he turned and kissed your temple.

“I love you too,” you replied.

[candycandy00]

The most hilarious thing in the world to me is watching all the right wing morons freaking out over X-Men 97 being “woke” and accidentally revealing that they have in fact never read an X-Men comic book and if they watched the old cartoon at all, it was only in passing and they never paid attention to it.

I’m not even talking about the fact that the X-Men have always met their definition of “woke”, even from the very beginning. No, I’m talking about the utterly baffling number of straight up factual errors I see them spouting. It’s absolutely embarrassing. They present themselves as fans, and are the exact type of guys who would gatekeep comics and assume any random woman in a comic store is a “fake fan”, but they have no clue about some of the most iconic elements from both the comics and the old cartoon!

I watched a video by a guy who had no idea Morph was a character in the old cartoon, and had never even heard of the Age of Apocalypse (one of the most famous X-Men stories in existence). I watched another by a guy freaking out over Storm’s Mohawk, not realizing it’s part of one of her most iconic looks from the 80’s. He showed a picture of her in her first costume from the comics (on a cover of X-Men Classic of all things) that looked way sexier than she was normally drawn when wearing that costume. Then said they “toned down” her look for the original cartoon, not knowing that her cartoon look was an exact replica of her look in the comics when the cartoon was made. They didn’t tone down anything. That was just what she looked like in the comics at the time.

The new cartoon is great. And I say this as a person who was totally obsessed with the old cartoon to the point that it worried my parents. To the point that I (a super calm and well behaved child) threw a massive tantrum when I realized the VCR had failed to record a new episode while I wasn’t home and cried on the couch for hours. To the point that my entire family still, to this day, knows every character’s name (and real name!) without ever watching the show because I talked about it so much.

I’ve never had a problem with “fake fans” of anything, because I figure if you fake something like that, odds are good that you’ll end up genuinely getting into whatever you’re pretending to like. And more fans of something is always a good thing in my book. But when those fake fans are actively trashing something I love just to grift to their narrow minded audiences, using completely false information, it’s ridiculous.

Honestly I wish I could just force these guys to read any storyline from Claremont’s 80’s run. It doesn’t even matter which one. They’re all solid gold. But maybe reading something so freaking great would open their tiny minds just a little bit.

[chokchokk]

Can I request a San x Female Reader where It's her first time having sex and first time having an orgasmn. So San makes her squirt over and over before fuckin her. But at the end she notices blood and freaks out so he comforts her? Very smutty and fluffy please?

-AA

Im too embarrassed

dearest AA, “very smutty”, “very fluffy” and “too embarrassed” don’t co-exist in my universe, so i hope with this fic i could get some of your shame (?) away, babes <33 indulge in your desires and don’t hesitate to revisit me anytime !!! thank you for being my first requester xoxo

ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ! | choi san x fem!reader

“Don't go around calling me baby right now, or I'll turn like the San in your dream.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Your boyfriend is a wet dream, but this only goes so far, when your real dream leaves you confused and most importantly, curious. San is more than happy to help.

“How does an orgasm feel like, Sannie?”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff (slice of life-ish), smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 10k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : 1st time, sex with communication, first orgasm, foreplay, explicit consent, fingering, squirting, protected (!) penetrative sex, bleeding, after-care; san is a great boyfriend, san has a big dick, that is actually important to the plot, established relationship, living together, a lot of sweet pet-names, teasing, domestic humour

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : LMAO i’ll be honest i got carried away with the build-up (pls know this abt me; i’m a WHORE for build-up (sorry not sorry)) but if you want to jump to the spicy part immediately, go find the second border, the smut will start there!! enjoy in any way you want !!! <33 feedback would be greatly appreciated xoxo

masterlist link | join my taglist

“Good night, Y/N. Dream of me~”, your boyfriend lulls, as you’re cuddled into his breast, San’s sturdy arm cushioning your body from below, stroking your head that’s under his. He just finished talking about his lucid dreaming recently, fascinated that he can remember more details now, but you interrupted his talking, when he iterated a fight to you where he got his nose bleeding. 

“I don’t have to dream of you when you’re the dream already, Sannie,” you whisper, and with a giggle, he kisses your forehead. San has warned you about calling him ‘dream boyfriend’ multiple times, since he’s aways got, quote, “things to improve on”, but since it’s not dream husband yet, you’re left with no other description. 

“Ohh, sugarplum,” he coos and and pushes your face deeper into the crook of his neck, “don’t say that.”

San is a special case in every which way; in the way he’s this buff guy with guns for arms that he uses to keep you warm when you sleep — in the way San is has the energy of a bull that he stashes away to sing his girlfriend a lullaby — in the way that the Choi San who has dated so many women in his past and hooked up with them (with no ill feelings in the present, of course) has settled down with you, Y/N, a woman with no prior experience other than the media she has consumed.

So you keep telling it yourself in secret. San is, and will forever be, a dream boyfriend. He’s as good to you as you are seemingly to him, but course the topic of sex, at least the lack thereof, crosses you two’s conversations from time to time. 

It’s not like you had tried to save yourself for something, really not. It just… didn’t sound appealing to you, ever. You’ve shared to San that you don’t even masturbate that often, since you’ve never been able to get a satisfactory end— an orgasm— out of it. And while other men would laugh about such a thing, San has shown you nothing but understanding and support.

When you feel sorry for not being able to meet his sexual needs, he tells you he’s happy enough that you feel comfortable to share your discomforts with you. There is not one cell of his body that would mutate and judge you, San is fully devoted to your well-being.

What you forget sometimes is that while San is your first boyfriend, it’s your first time being a girlfriend, too. So being sorry for San is one thing, but wanting to love San more is another. At least you realised that this morning, when you woke up from your first ever wet dream.

You have been able to just ‘shake it off’ during the day and not think about it, but after San, being your soulmate he is, came up with the topic of “lucid dreaming”, and you could barely listen to his wild stories because of how distracted you were.

Maybe that’s why San thought you were tired and cuddled you to slumber so soon. Him cuddling you and getting your head under his chin is you two’s usual sleeping position, but well, huh… You’re not tired, not at all.

“I mean it,” you choke out, San humming, touched by your compliment, but of course he doesn’t know that by saying he’s a dream,you’re also referencing to how his hands were touching your private areas all around, his mouth in places that it’s never been in before in real life. ‘Tastes so good…’

“I love you so much, Y/N,” San exhales delightfully, fed by your fuzzy feelings, still caressing your head with gentle fingers, “but you know that I want you to hold me accountable.”

“Saaannie,” you murmur, your breath turning into a hot patch on his shirt, “just take it as it is.”

San notices your slightly agitated tone and chuckles, kissing your forehead again. “Y/N, my sugar-pie, what’s bothering you?” There has been no doubt in you that San wouldn’t catch on that you’re being weird, and though you’re really glad he did, it, for some reason, doesn’t make the topic any more easier. 

“It’s—“, you begin to stammer, and with your struggle comes San’s immediate help. He shuffles back a little bit so he can take an analytical look at you, all blushed and worked up over a dream you can’t even remember the half of. San’s eyes are droopy, and while right now, it’s because he’s tired, in your dream, it was because he wanted to ‘eat you up…’

“It’s too embarrassing to explain.”

San gets the arm away from below and leans his head against his hand, propping himself up. “Embarrassing?”, he asks and pouts with a slight smile, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks. “Is it an embarrassing matter or just you who’s soooo easy to embarrass, huh?”, San grins and taps your nose one time with his finger to loosen you up, looking you straight in the eyes to give you all his attention. He’s showing to you that you, dearest, could never be embarrassing to him. Everything you do, he’ll take serious and anything you say, San will listen to it, as he’s shown you over and over again, reaffirming it to you every day and night. 

‘I’m going to show you my love, all of it.’

San sees you licking your lips and putting your words together in your overwhelmed brain. You’re not nervous of how San will react, that is for sure, it’s just that… Where do you start? ‘Hey, boyfriend, I think I want to have sex with you?’ That does get the message across, but the words have to leave your mouth first. 

It’s hard. You don’t think you’ve ever said the word, ‘sex’ in the context of… actually having it, let alone desiring it. San watches you spiral— starting to inhale, but then losing your words— and strokes over your head, humming “Just start with the basic outline—“

“I had sex with you in my dream.”

San stops stroking your head for a hot second and you two are just looking into each other’s eyes. San notices now how red you have become, how flushed you look, what a cute girlfriend you are for being embarrassed about this and shit, how lucky he is that you’re his and not anybody else’s girlfriend who you are so adorable playing with your hair right after you just dropped the “s-bomb” on him.

You don’t know what’s worse: Him, waiting for you to continue your talking before he can react to your … attention-grabbing introductory sentence, or you, not having anything to follow up. He probably expects you to tell your dream, but— but not in front of San himself, no! You’re quiet and continue to be, until he takes it upon himself to break the silence.

“… Did you wake up?”

Huh?

“What? Of course I woke up, I’m here now.”

“No, sweetie,” San wheezes softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, while you finally let your eyes stray away (his gaze is unbearable), “I’m asking whether you got to see the end of it.”

“The—“, you parrot him, and while you do San smiles sheepishly, apparently finding you so endearing while you are in mutilation, a foreign warmth growing in your stomach, “— end?”

“I just don’t want to scare you, Y/N,” San hums and twirls your hair around on his finger. “This is me asking where your head is in this situation.”

You blink and San pushes his lips out to indicate that he’s waiting for an answer, or at least something to give him to know if you’re in need of consolation or advice. “Uhm,” you inhale, “I… saw almost everything, I guess.”

His reaction could mean a lot. The dimple in his cheek getting deeper, his nose crunch, him sucking in his lip — it could mean a lot, but also so little.

“Almost everything,” San re-confirms, you know that this description is still very vague. 

Gathering your shards of confidence, you murmur, “I mean… We saw each other naked often, so I think that’s why my brain could— do that, but when it came to that, it… You know. It surprised me.”

“That,” San repeats and by now, he definitely understands the superficial parts of your dream, but you have yet to drop any details. Was the dream a good one? Or well, was he good?

As expected, he wouldn’t dare to ask you that right now, looking at how you’re stammering awkwardly. You can still read it in his eyes though; his curiosity is asking you whether your dream has changed your attitude about sex, let it be for the better or worse. 

You know San is going to show understanding regardless, right?

Yes, absolutely right.

“Y/N, sugar, we can talk about this tomorrow or any other day you like. I’ll keep it in mind, if that’s what you want.” 

Maybe you should say something before San thinks the dream has made you negatively speechless. Well, it did make you speechless the whole day, but now, you’re almost bursting with the things you want to say, like they’re brewing inside you but not getting flavourful yet.

“No, Sannie,” you whine and put your hand on your eyes to hide yourself from his way-too sincere eyes. This isn’t how people do it in the movies or in the books. They usually just… get it on, no? Like they eat each other up, like it’s a necessity for survival, like eating to meet hunger, like quenching your thirst. You don’t know if this is a feeling like that. Whether the uncomfortable warmth inside you is truly the embarrassment but rather the reaction of your memories. ‘Let yourself be all over me.’

“Yes, sweetie,” San croons, removing his hand from your head to leave you by yourself even more, your palms resting on your eye sockets.

You love him. You’ve never doubted this, and you’re not doubting it now. From the moment he confessed his love to you, you having to get used to the idea of being in a relationship to now, almost a year later. You’ve mentioned it to him haphazardly already, but you’ve done everything except have sex. It had been San’s idea to ease you into the twosome-ness of it all; ‘let’s be each other’s person’. He said that in your dream, too, and finally you understood it.

You remember your long-lived confusion before today too well. San was your person as you were his, him with his own set of needs and expectations, you with your own — but weren’t they contradictory? San needed the sex, didn’t he? Like… sexual needs? 

No, “sex isn’t a need”, San explained to you back then, “it’s a way!“

You tried to bring up the whole concept of orgasming being healthy to him, but he continued with “to me,” and you are reciting these words in your head as you try to think of something good to say, “sex is just one of many ways to love you, Y/N.”

So, truth be told, despite having a virgin girlfriend, he orgasms a healthy amount still. Sometimes San does it while you’re sleeping next to him, sometimes he feels like he can’t resist to look at your peaceful, tranquil, breathtaking face and does it in the bathroom, but essentially, he is not having sex, just getting rid of his ‘bodily mishaps’.

While you thought of sex as this strange way to get rid of stress, San thought of it as something way more, but he wouldn’t try to convince you of it, if you didn’t give him your “okay” to talk about it at all.

But here you are. Okay. You’re finally ready. Or maybe you’re not, but you’re ready to try, try with San, try San. He’ll be your person, get to know where you like to be touched, get to know where your sweet spots are and you will hopefully do just the same— touch, no, lick, no, touch, lick and suck everywhere he wants, pour your yourself over him. You’ve wanted to find out how to do that since you’ve dreamt of it since last night, processing the brain-sensation it has left you with for the whole day.

“Do you think you want to tell me about your dream first?“ 

“Can you kiss me?”

“H- huh?”

You get your hands from your eyes and your vision is too blurry to precisely get the picture of his rather shaken expression in. San thinks you’re bold. Mostly because that’s what you are right now. Bold. Still embarrassed, but encouraged and desperate. “Can you kiss me?”, you ask again before you fall into another pile of self-embarrassment. 

“I can, but I don’t know how it’s going to help—“

You pull his face closer to yours with both of your hands and San is the one who slightly turns red now. “Y/N,” he pants, and you have to suppress a cheeky smile, when you push his cheeks together to form a duck-face. 

Until you notice he’s not being sulky with the way he’s trying to push you away.

It takes you a while, how would you know that it was so easy to get men erected? Okay, you’ve seen San get a boner in the most uncomfortable situations several occasions, but usually they weren’t because of a direct cause. 

If he had worn a baggier set of pants, you probably wouldn’t have seen it, but it’s only his shorts today, and the whole outline of it is almost jumping into your face, you couldn’t have not seen it. Not remarking it also wouldn’t have helped the situation. Your situation. ‘I won’t stop, I won’t stop fucking you all night.’

“Is that why you don’t wanna kiss me, Sannie?”, you murmur and flutter with your eye-lids, once your realise you’ve been staring for too long down there.

In contrast the voyeuristic scene, it strangely does not become one of those erotic moments; with San’s whiny chuckle, it actually becomes kind of … bonny. Him getting a hard-on, when his girlfriend is quite figuratively trying to open up with him, it becomes a small detail to poke fun at, one to laugh about it with an amiable awareness that you’re not mocking each other.

“I’m sorry— ignore this— I can ignore this,” San tells you and flops on his back, grabbing all of the blanket to roll around it and leaving you cold with less. “Hey!”, you pout and grab the seam of the blanket to get under it, but San gets ahold of your wrists to prevent you from cuddling to his side.

Maybe it’s because there’s nothing else occupying San’s mind and body right now, with you knowing it, or the way you can’t keep your hands off of him and he’s desperately trying to avoid your touch, it seems like a short game of cat-and-mouse.

“I don’t care that you’re hard, Sannie!”, you whine and search for his vicinity, but he wiggles away, forcing you to be a bit more assertive and wring with him.

“But I do!”, he exclaims, not really understanding the weight that your words hold. You just told him that you’re not appalled by his erection, that should be a big sign that you’re, uh, up for conversation, no? Why are you being like this? Maybe to keep up the tension? Because it’s fun? Fun playing around with San— to watch him try to use as little strength as possible, knowing that once he gets just the tiniest bit of muscle in, you’ll be overthrown?

“Sannie,” you make a sullen face, breathing out, at your third try to get your arms around him with San’s hands on your wrist, but when you get caught in the blanket with your leg that he keeps pulling, it’s over the second he yanks you to the side.

Yanking you to the side meaning pulling you by your whole body— you landing on his belly, arms awkwardly angled towards your torso, leaning into his face.

“You men”, you theatrically moan to tease him even more and San is fighting with all his inner voices right now. Most of them are just empty screams of ‘what is happening?!’, but also muscle memory persuading him to wrap his arms around your perfect waist and pin you down— he’s trying, that’s what he’s yearning to tell you by pushing his eyebrows down. “I’m sorry.”

“Ohh, Sannie,” you sigh, letting your head drop on top of his breast, crossing your fingers into San’s, while he manages his breathing.

“This is why I’m no dream man, Y/N,” San pouts, feeling guilty having used his power over you. 

“It’s natural, isn’t it?”, you answer — letting your hands fall to each side of San’s body, and you feel like one of those people that usually tell you the same thing when the fact that you’re a virgin slips off your tongue. ‘It’s natural, isn’t it? That couples have sex?’ It should be and it’s going to be, thank you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I was really not prepared for that,” San wheezes and he raises one of your intertwined hands to touch your fingers with his lips.

“What? The cuddling or the dream?”

“The cuddling, in the context of the dream,” he answers honestly and inhales your sleepy scent from your fingertips, feeling how comfortable you lay on top of him.

“It was a good dream,” you conclude.

This was what San was trying to find out. Good or bad. And to his luck, it was good. Very good. ‘Such a good girl… So good to me.’

“Y/N?”

You accidentally zoned out, re-imagining your reverie; San all over you, sweat dripping down from his skin onto yours, his pelvis pistoning into your raised legs. How had your brain come up with that? It felt so… real. “Sorry, I got lost there for a second. What did you say?”

“How was he, that San in your dream?”

“The San in my dream, he,” you chuckle, feeling your breathing accumulate to your boyfriend’s, “… did everything, but he wasn’t careful, no.”

“What?!”, San exclaims, and it seems like he’s offended by his alter-ego to dare such a thing— he lets go off your hands in the shock and grabs you by your shoulders. “Not careful?!”

“Hmm,” you try and calm him down, letting your hands glide onto his pillowy breasts, massaging your fingers into his flesh by circling them, “he was inside… But a bit… Too fast for my liking? I mean, I don’t know my liking… I was enjoying it in my dream, but— uhm, I don’t think I could handle so much right now?”

San hums, as in to show that he heard what you said, but it took him a second of you burying your hands inside his armpits to inhale, “wait, right now?”, and remove his hands from your shoulders.

“Sannie,” you murmur with closed eyes, the buzzing feeling inside your lower abdomen swaying you to something like slumber, but if you’re not mistaken— and you’re sure that you can’t be mistaken about your own thoughts— it’s not a slumber that can be cured by sleep, but rather something else, “I couldn’t think of anything else today.”

He’s silent. He’s still breathing— thank goodness— but even though you can hear his breath leave his mouth, it doesn’t seem like San is going to say something. Pushing your upper body up, you tilt your head down.

He’s silent, sweaty and breathing, breathing heavily, staring upwards at you with sunken eyes, unable to let any of his thoughts leave the safe space of his mouth, because if San did, he’d give himself trouble for it. Seeing you fix your gaze— eyelids droopy from having been smushed into his breast— seems to only be adding fuel to his loss of good sense, and San is praying in his head that you won’t lick your lips once more, because oh god, if you did, you are going to be in so much more trouble than he is.

“Baby?”, you ask, and you swear you’re not trying to provoke him, since you only call him baby in the most special occasions, but right now, it just slipped out of you because San is being a bit strange. 

Boyfriends don’t act like this, do they? Your boyfriend doesn’t; that, you can be sure about.

“Sorry,” you correct yourself, hopefully to get rid of some of his— well, what was it— anxiousness?— no, frustration?, “I didn’t mean to say ‘baby’. It just slipped out.”

“N- no, Y/N, it’s not your fault, it’s mine,” San whines. “This may sound really weird, but while I would rather die than hurt you, sugar-pie,” he murmurs, avoiding your heavy gaze on him, “I am… a man. And I don’t know how comfortable you are with me, but I am fully, undeniably erected, Y/N. Don’t go around calling me baby right now, or I’ll turn like the San in your dream.”

“How does an orgasm feel like, Sannie?”, you ask, purposefully innocent, but still in a way that makes it obviously suggestive, your tone dropping in an octave from its initial high-tone embarrassment. Where is your sudden confidence coming from? You don’t know, but- uh- well, you’re kinda over San here, both mentally and physically, it seems like. 

“It feels like…”, San sighs, both reminiscing his lifetime of orgasms and feeling pretty fucking awkward in general, to be explaining this to you, while his body is screaming for him to do anything but talking. 

“… It feels like being washed over by refreshing water on a hot summer day, after easing yourself into it with small splashes.” San is no poet and he sees this by how you’re flexing your face together, trying hard to understand.

“It feels like…,” he starts again, and you can swear you are feeling something twitch underneath you, and it’s probably his hard erection. “… Orgasm feel like, wow… How do they feel like, they— Uh…”

Somewhere between his words, San is looking at the ceiling, letting his eyes wander around everywhere your body isn’t laying dangerously close to his throbbing genital, but having to tell you how orgasms feel like is just the end of his senses. Now it’s not only his body urging him on, his girlfriend is trying to find out how they feel like without having experienced one, ever.

“… They are worth it.”

He’s trying to be a good boyfriend, but up until now, he’s been used to being the boyfriend of a virgin girlfriend who didn’t want sex at the moment. And that was the end of it. Definitely more than manageable, more doable than … this.

“Do you think I can enjoy them too?”, you question, revealing to him the true nature of your curiosity.

You’ve confirmed the pulsation between your legs seconds ago, when San let out a whine from his mouth, that was definitely not intended to sound as sexual as it did. You’re a virgin, not dumb, you know what’s seductive, sultry and arousing. Oh, you’re aroused, alright, maybe for the first time in your life— and your boyfriend is, too, so if this puzzle isn’t going to be put together this night, there must be something wrong in the air.

“I can’t speak for you, sugarplum. It was your dream, Y/N.”

“I don’t know how we started, but we were here, on our bed, naked, and you were… thrusting into me with this… almost scary vigour, it was— It was rough. And that one, I didn’t enjoy. You looked mean, Sannie.”

“I’m sorry,” San pouts and he looks downwards to show how sorry he is, but also to focus on your words only. If he sees your sweet face describing those things one more time, then he’ll have to disappear into the toilet soon. “I would never treat you like that.”

You blink a couple of times and lick your lips. “How would you treat me?”

“I would,” San mutters, finally meeting your eyes again, while he slowly, but surely begins to prop himself up by angling his arms, getting to your face-level. “I would treat you with care, reverence—with tenderness; I would get every inch of your skin to understand how it feels to be seen and loved, I would—“, he pants, he’s unable to breathe through his nose, and he just keeps on talking, he…

“YN, I— I would do everything to get to make your body flourish with my love, to make your heart grow with all I have, I want to—“

He goes silent.

Yes, San is a man. But it’s strange to you how he blames being a man for his weakness, but if there is a strong suit that your boyfriend has over you, it’s not being so strong that he can pull you down in a second— it’s having the mind of a lover, and a lover who promises to protect everyone he loves with his strength, and not because he’s getting his own satisfying release out of it.

A man and a lover; San is also your boyfriend, who knows what to tell you to make you grow weak. Let’s say he doesn’t do it a lot for reasons that include wanting to protect you, but as you are on top of him, listening to his words from beneath you, his words melt like fizzled honey on your tummy, crumbling with them. 

“I want you, Y/N. And that’s my selfish dream.”

Being pulled down by gravity as San’s upper body rises, down to his crotch, you let him work his silent ways. He pushes himself up the last inch that it takes to be under your face, and his skin radiates heat onto yours.

There is not even a centimetre separating you two and San finally finds his words. “Please”, he begs, his voice above a whisper, “let me be your dream, Y/N.”

“I thought we already went through that,” you chuckle, getting your arms on each of San’s shoulders now, “baby.”

You can see he’s enjoying this a little too much, the way San is thoroughly covering every inch of your skin with butterfly kisses, as he has you laying on your back, letting you rub your hands over his torso to get used to the ‘intimacy’-part of it all. 

Getting naked was an easy process, being exposed to the very last skin on the other hand, not. You’ve never been naked in front of him for this specific occasion, and since he knows, San doesn’t dare to rush you into more touching than needed, allowing your underwear to wrap around your privates until he’s finished giving you goosebumps all over the body. 

With his soft lips, San kisses your shoulders and collarbones, whispering words of comfort into them, while you try your best to not make any lewd sounds. You didn’t know they came naturally, you had thought it was acting but — oh, goodness — no. 

“Sugar,” San sputters— rearranging himself over you, one knee between your legs, the other over your leg, “let ‘em out. Let the sounds out.”

You gulp, as he glides his hand across your stomach to your lower abdomen, slightly scratching the seam of your panties, and San has placed his lips at your jawline, his voice vibrating in your ear, peppering kisses around the corner of your neck, entrancing you to fall deeper into your mattress, sighing in the calming feeling of your boyfriend.

“Only because you wanna hear me,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his upper body, running your hands across his back muscles that ease into your touch. “And that’s a bad thing, because…?”, San hums and begins to get lower with his kisses and his thumbs caressing where your pantyliner meets your thighs, warming up the small patch of skin there.

“Hmm,” you breathe out, San’s lips working their way down your cleavage, “Good… point.”

San smirks and brings his hands up, not letting a second pass where he is not feeling you under his fingertips. “There is nothing more that I want to hear,” he murmurs, his eyes appearing to become a bit foggy from your scent, San becoming absolutely lost in it, “except you, my love.”

Your breath comes out stuttered and stroke his bangs away to the side in order to have a better view on his face above your breast. He’s radiant, but as much as he’s excited to be doing this, San will stop as soon anything leaves your mouth asking him to, he promised you. In your dream, San just kept going. That’s why you didn’t want to retell the story. He forced you around, he thrusted into you with no choice, and he wouldn’t stop, until your dream cut off without you having orgasmed once throughout the thing.

So the dream itself didn’t get you to want this, and San knows this, the curiosity did. Curiosity of reaching the edge that you missed in your sleep, which you think you can only reach with the real San, with your real boyfriend.

“Can I touch you here, sugar?”, San asks, his upper body hovering over your torso, lips approaching your face, hands gliding up by your waist to meet your ribs. He’s done a good job not staring at your exposed nipples, but following the way from your jawline, neck, and collarbones, this is the next area to appreciate.

“Yes, please,” you answer, cupping your boyfriend’s cheek with one hand, inviting him to kiss you softly. San encloses your breast with a hand that has up to no muscle tension in it, kindly allowing it to get used to the new, but warm contact.

His rosy lips meet yours and he presses several kisses on them, reminding you of how much familiarity you’re dealing with right now. You kiss San all of the time, for all the reasons you love him, and as he kisses you right now, at this sleepy midnight, he’s showing you why sexual intercourse is just a fancy term to describe something so complex, that it actually becomes simple. He loves you. That’s all he has to do to have or not have sex with you.

With his palm, San brushes over your nipple, and by wonder, it hardens and makes goosebumps run over your back.

“You look so beautiful,” San lulls, smooching your lips one more time before he can finally take a look at your breasts and gulp, lick his lips, and ask you, “may I?”

“You may.”

The last kiss lingers delicately on your opened lips, as San breathes in your breast, kneading and softening it up. Automatically, you exhale and run your fingers through his uncombed hair. He sucks once and twirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, and with your very valuable feedback, his other hand draws a long line across your curvature.

“Sannie... Baby…”, you whine, the slow, but sensual licking sending you down a sensation of being tickled and being caressed at the same time.

“Yes, pie?”, San grins, proud that he’s making you feel this way, no, that it’s him that is making you feel this way for the first time in your life. With each of your sweet sounds, his pride and ego grows and his lips lap around your nipples razzingly. 

You tug at his hair and send him down deeper into your skin, slightly pushing him to get his head where you’ve found that you feel best, grabbing the fabric of the bedsheets under you with your other hand.

“It feels so good,” you whine, and San chuckles after seeing your grip, gliding his hand right between your ticklish fingers. 

“Yeah?”, he coos and presses another kiss onto your mouth, adoring the way your eyebrows twitch inside according to his voice. “I’ll make you feel even better…”

San caresses the area under your boob, whispers into your ear, “Will you let me?”, and you nod, words inside your head turning into hazy exhales out of your mouth.

“You won’t regret it,” San chuckles and crosses his fingers into the surface of your hand, using your own hand to slowly, but surely slide down your stomach. You kind of get the idea of what he’s trying to do, but not really the image.

“You think I won’t regret it?”, you ask him, a bit anxious, — it’s your first time, after all— your soft skin under both of your fingertips becoming one, as he leads the hand down. “I don’t know so,” San admits, comforting you by kissing your forehead, “so I’m going to make you believe it, first.”

“Hm?”

San pushes his upper body up with the hand that has been at your breast and glides it behind your back, so he can get between you and the mattress, his naked upper body pressed against your shoulder. He plants an uncountable number of kisses onto your neck, and assists you down to your panties, keeping his eyes on you to confirm you’re okay with all that he’s doing.

You’ve never touched yourself on this bed. The last time you did was somewhere in your gleeful high-school teens, long before you met San, and if you’re honest, you’d rather have him touch you, but when San kisses you on the lips and both of your hands slide under the seam of your underwear. The rough fabric of the lace scrapes San’s hand and you meet the hot slickness you’ve become inside.

“Would you look at that,” San purrs, voice wispy— his finger is the only one to glide against your wet labia and explore the untouched lips. It helps that your hand is down there too, and it feels like a rubber hand illusion, you touching yourself while San does it for you.

“Y/N,” San moans into your ear, stirred by the sensation that is you. “You feel so good, don’t you, sugar?”

You inhale sharply, when San’s finger strokes over your clitoris, and straight away, your boyfriend presses kisses onto your temple. “S- Sannie,” you whine and provoked by your sounds, his finger circles around your clit again. 

Sparks, tingles — you name it. With San kissing you all around the face to counteract the new stimulation, you can’t keep your legs straightened, folding your thighs around your and San’s arm with an overwhelmed sigh. “Sannie…”, you repeat yourself and look him in the eye.

“Aww, sugar,” San smiles and catches your forlorn gaze, flushed and drowned in his kisses. Your cheeks are burning red, but the same thing goes for San. Both of you are drunk in love, falling for each other deeper with every breath you take.

“Is this good?”, he asks and rubs your back with his thumb, the other finger teasing the slick entrance. “Y- yes,” you answer and San crunches his nose in admiration, slowly easing his finger around the tissue. 

“Can you touch yourself for me?”, is San’s second question and you gulp at the sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice. He’s talking two octaves deeper, raspy, lascivious; he’s promiscuous in all he is doing, let it be nibbling at your earlobe, rubbing your clit, caressing your spine with utmost libertine care— you have a feeling you’re developing another crush for your boyfriend.

“Y- yes,” you stutter, but a bit anxious about doing something wrong. It feels so right when San does it, but he’s the more experienced one in this— at least that’s what you think. He removes his hand from the surface of yours and lets you do the rubbing for a short moment, and you try to replicate what he did to you, flicking your finger over your clitoris.

“Doing it so well,” San comments and he raises your upper body with his arm, making you sit up, slithering down while smothering your lower abdomen with sloppy kisses.

“R- really?”, you ask, and San nods, while kissing the inner sides of your thighs, his eyes looking at you sideways. “Of course. It’s your body, Y/N. Your beautiful, gorgeous body.”

As San gutters, you feel something swaying on your clit, when your boyfriend smirks and looks directly at your pussy. He’s so handsome, San is making you nervous, and his eyes are drilling into you lustfully.

“You’re so beautiful everywhere, sugar, what have I done to deserve this?”, he pants, hooking himself from under your thigh, hands resting on your hip bone.

You don’t know what to answer and just flutter with your eyelashes, exhaling, when San sticks his tongue out and slides across your slickness it in one stroke, looking up at you to catch your whiny reaction. He deserves all of it, not because he was patient enough to wait for it, but because San is the one to make you feel this pretty in the first place.

“It’s probably really predictable I was going to say this, but I can’t not say it, ” San gutters, his dimple dug deep into his cheek— he’s smiling, licking his lips, “you taste amazingly sweet, my love.”

You press your lips together and feel like you have to push San into your arousal again by his hair, combing through it. “D- do it again,” you beg, and San’s heart flutters. Not letting you wait, he inhales through his nose and laps his mouth around your glistening cunt. You already knew he was good with his tongue for you have french-kissed him before, but— but this is another type of tongue-work. 

It’s slow, it’s sensual, but it still feels so exhilarating— how he’s sucking in your clitoris, laving over your muscled entrance that reacts to the movement of his tongue; it makes you breathe heavily and let out feathery moans.

“Feels so good,” you hush, and stroke his hair. San hums and at smiles with his eyes, getting one hand away from your leg to slowly run it towards your vagina.

“Are you really going to … make me cum?”, you ask, a bit plumply, both out of rush and nervousness. 

“I would like to, yes,” San answers, kissing you all around the pelvis bone. His lips have become plump and his nose is also painted rosy red from how he planted his face into you. “Will you allow me to?”

“Please be careful,” you appeal and San nods. “Yes, Y/N. I promise I will never do anything to you that will hurt you. Not like that stupid… dream-San you talked about.”

You chuckle and caress his jawline with your thumb, San leaning his head into your hand. “I know you would never do that, Sannie,” you say and prop yourself with an elbow. “Please make me cum.”

San wants to say something, but he bites his lip and suppresses it, crawling closer to your throbbing, heated pussy. “What is it, baby?”, you ask him, and this time, you deliberatelywant to tease him by calling him that, winking slyly at him.

Your boyfriend blinks in disbelief and lets out a light-hearted scoff, his breathing comes in and out stuttered. “Y/N,” San hums, putting a leg over his shoulder and you feel like more air is hitting your wetness, “you have no… idea… what those words are doing to me.”

Your boyfriend gulps, and as you peek at him innocently, having to get used to the new position, he looks amazed and set ablaze. Is this your ‘aroused face’? You, with your lips parted ever-so soppily, looking sultry and lovable— San is savouring this sight, oh, this sight, and saving it into his brain so it will never leave his mind, add it to the collection of his memories of you.

“Show me,” you whisper, a fire starting to enflame in you, demanding San to extinguish it.

“There’s nothing else in the world I’d rather do,” San hums and with that sentence, he’s at your cunt again, but more eager this time. The tongue flicks faster over your clitoris, his pants are getting breathier against your skin— San wants you, wants all of you, and before you know it, there’s a thumb rubbing at the entrance, notifying you that he is going to be penetrating soon.

“I’ll make you come over and over,” San breathes, and his eyes are filled with lust, hunger, desire, thirst— and you gasp at the sight of it alone, but his voice, his heart, his mind, is all painted and drowned in something purely innocent that is love. “Is that alright with you, sweetheart?”

He asks as if you stand a chance to resist him, but San seems to be doing this for the enjoyment that is pleasing you, and you’re more than happy to allow him to have his body all over yours for the sakes or it, because you love him so much. You’re already excited for when you know how to get your body all over his.

“That,” you exhale, feeling his thumb be replaced by his digit, the muscle of your entrance closing in on the finger tip, “is alright with me. I’m in, Mr. Choi, the deal’s settled.”

San chuckles at your light-hearted joke and you giggle as well, which allows his finger to glide into you slowly. Of course you’re tight, but you find it fascinating how your muscles ease around him and suck his finger in, the slickness squelching, as he licks over your slit.

“Looking forward to our cooperation,” he grins, lips pressed against your pussy and you can feel yourself slowly turning into mush. Your abdomen feels strangely ticklish, and there’s this pulling feeling that makes your body rock.

“… Ms. Choi.”

You scoff— San gave you his last name, how silly of him— but your amusement doesn’t hold on for too long, when San begins to move his finger around, angling it up and down.

“Mmhf,” you gutter and your legs close down on his head, the second leg finding its place on his other shoulder. “That—“, you try to gasp, but San being the quick learner he is, keeps stroking that one spot which got to this reaction in the first place.

“S- San!”, you whine; fuzzy, dizzy, light-heated, feeling like you’re going to shoot into space, to other worlds, and come right back to earth. In the meanwhile, your boyfriend’s tongue flicks even faster, head stuck between your thighs, his finger sliding in and out of you until you’re a whimpering mess.

“I’m here, baby,” he murmurs, finally looking up to you, wishing to meet your eyes again, but your head is rolling to the back, your upper body feels heavy and you slightly fall to the back, having to grab his hair to support yourself.

“I- I,” you stutter, feeling like there’s something that’s sizzling for explosion, and it seems San is feeling it too, in the way your pussy is tightening around his finger, and half-laughing out of glee about this discovery, San props himself up a little bit, your lower body raised from the mattress.

“Cum, sugar, cum,” he whispers, and as he adds a second finger that fills you up in a way that one finger couldn’t achieve, you fully suffocate him with your thighs, the thin string holding you away from release finally snapping. 

“Fuck!”, you moan, and at first, San is surprised about your cussing, but then his eyes grow big, when there is more fluid coming out of your vagina that hasn’t been there beforehand. Explosion, sweet release, what should you call it? An orgasm— that’s what this is, but no, you’re also squirting, lower body spasming as you do so, and San is trying to react quickly by slurping it all in, but it’s too much— your bed gets wet. He drives the two fingers in and out and makes you a mess, makes a mess, makes you messy, getting all your squirt out and inside his mouth.

“San— Sannie— Baby!”, you pant, overstimulated by his fingers and lips that will just not stop, and you fear you’re going to choke your boyfriend to death with your thighs, but the same tingle appears in your lower abdomen again, felt everywhere in your tightness.

“Come on, come on, come on,” San growls, short of breath, and by angling his fingers upwards your walls, you see stars again, throwing your head into the bed and you pull at his hair, harshly and roughly, gripping his scalp for dear life, when you’re shot into bliss again.

“Ooooh baby,” San howls wispily, repeating his motion, but less ecstatic this time in order to not make you pass out from pleasure, if that happens at all.

And as licks the remaining fluid of his lips, and gets you back down again, San doesn’t lose any of his excitement, hair ruffled by your grip, lips swollen from using them so much. “Can I do that again? Can I please do that again?”

“Wha— What about you?”, you ask, panting, knowing that the penis inside his pyjamas has been hard since almost an eternity, but it seems like San doesn’t care about that at all. He looks euphoric, he looks like he saw a god (a goddess, mind you) and San just shakes his head.

“Don’t think about me, I’m,” he admits, and what you don’t know is that he just came inside his pants, when San saw your stunning orgasm-face— and he definitely has to clean it up before it soaks through, “all cared for here.”

San shuffles away from your legs to your face and kisses your forehead, wiping a bit of sweat away. “I’m gonna get towels and you’re gonna make yourself ready for a second time, alright?”

“But—“

“Will there be a ‘but’?”, San asks, and he’s prepared to let all go and just take a shower, but you just scratch your neck. “Don’t you want to fuck … me?”

“Ohhh, don’t worry, sugar, I want and will,” San grins and you smile, feeling a bit light-headed because of your first orgasm. For this to be your first orgasm, while many of your friends had their first time without having orgasmed—… it’s a lot, to admit the least.

Not to say that you’re trying to compare with them and feel superior, but if this is what’s waiting for is worth, you’d spend all that time again. 

Again. And again, and—

“Again!”

You’re breathing heavily, skin slippy from your sweat — or, well, both of you are covered in body fluids, there are pearls of sweat dropping down on San, who, despite rubbing you clean with his hands, doesn’t even bother anymore to dry his wet arm anymore.

“Sannie,” you exhale, when San kisses your from behind, as you sit between his legs, “I- I th-think this is enough, I’m r-ready.”

“Hmmm?”, he hums, pressing his naked upper body at your back, his two fingers coming out of you for the nth time. Your hips have been spasming around for a long while now, and you feel sensitive and over-stimulated at your clitoris, but if there is one thing you’re still curious about after all those orgasms, it’s how San feels inside you not with his fingers but his girth.

“I want your dick inside,” you command directly, too sex-drunk to express your wish in any other way.

“Are you sure?”, San asks and kisses the nape of your neck. “We can do it any other time, sugar-pie, aren’t you tired by now?”

“Are you?”

“Of course not.”

You turn your head around and slightly pant, seeing San not lose any of his desirous colour in his eyes. “Then let’s not lose any time.”

San presses a deep kiss on your temple before he leaves your back, and you feel the warmth of his lips sit there, as he positions himself at the front, on his knees. He still has his boxer-shorts on, but that only goes so far, when he’s been leaking with pre-cum, never-mind has come in the same set an hour ago.

You can see it perfectly— San’s length, his girth, the way it moves by itself under the fabric; it looks captivating as much as it is arousing you again after all the times you’ve orgasmed this evening. 

“Do you want to touch me?”, San asks, and trails his own hand over his breast, giving you an idea of what you can do to pleasure him. 

“Yes, baby,” you answer and get on your knees as well, grabbing San by the hips and caressing the seam of his shorts with your thumbs. In the meanwhile, your lips seek for his vicinity and you place kisses on his neck. “I’d love to.”

“I love you so much,” San sighs and holds you by your head tenderly with both hands, cupping the circular form, feeling you get a taste of his sweaty skin at his neck. His Adam’s apple bops, when you slightly pull his boxers down and there’s resistance from his erection.

“You have a big dick, right?”, you ask, and San coughs— he was expecting you to say ‘I love you’ back first.

“U- uh,” he stammers, “yeah. It’s- uhm. I hope it’s not too big, Y/N.”

“Can it be too big?”

You ask him with genuine curiosity and San scratches the back of his head. “I was preparing you thoroughly for it, honey, that’s all… I can say.”

He harrumphes in the awkward conversation, and before he can get shy from your stare, you chuckle and kiss him, “I love you too, Sannie. I couldn’t imagine doing this with any other person.”

Your boyfriend slides his hand to your jaw and pulls up your head to kiss you, mumbling, “only do this with me, Y/N,” into your lips.

As his lips work against yours, you slide down your hands into his boxer-shorts and use your wrists to spread the spandex, getting San’s underwear off. 

With your eyes closed, you hear San breathe in deeply through his nose and he rubs your back with both of his hands to push your naked body against his. 

His dick feels hot, wet and mild, when it presses against your abdomen, and you subconsciously grind your lower body to identify it better. It is big. The two fingers don’t even come close to what you’re working with here, and in the moment, it’s really good that you feel loosened up by the numerous times San made you come.

“Please touch me,” San instructs you and you nod, opening your eyes to see his glistening tip pointed towards you. Without waiting, you leniently wrap your hand around it and San parts your lips to pant.

“I don’t think I’ll hold on for long,” he whimpers, and his pelvis twitches, when you squeeze your hand around the soft, heated, slick muscle.

“Wait, Sannie… Do we have condoms?”, you ask and to your surprise, San opens up the cupboard. You loosely remember when San asked you if he should buy condoms at the beginning of your relationship, and you know that you answered with an ‘I don’t know’ back then.

A year later, it turns out San has bought a pack, but didn’t talk about it until the time was ripe. “Do you want to do it for me?”, he asks you, ripping apart the plastic wrapper with his finger and mouth. That this took a wet dream to realise is funny to you, but as you’re in the moment, you can only gulp in anticipation.

You nod and continue to pump his length in your grasp, when you’re handed the flimsy condom. Is that even going to fit around him?

“Yes, it is going to fit,” San giggles at your subconsciously asked question, and then kisses you, “did dream-San wear a condom?”

You place the center of the condom on the tip of penis and slowly glide down the lubed silicone by the ring.

“No, I don’t think so,” you murmur, though you couldn’t care any less about your dream right now. San hums and bucks up his hip into your hand, making the condom hit the end of his length.

It frankly looks quite comical, the way the white outlines your boyfriend’s dick, but before you can laugh, San delicately pushes you at your ass— other hand on the back of your head to not make you hit the bed-frame, with you landing on your back, legs angled towards the sky.

San tsk’s about his alter-ego’s wrong-doings and shakes his head. “I think your brain has a very twisted image of me.”

You chuckle at how sulky San is about it, though you can’t take any responsibility. You also don’t know how your brain cooked up the imagination of San ramming into you raw, especially when your biggest fear has been that things were going to hurt. (Now that you know they don’t, you’re good to go, you think.)

But the real San touches you softly, carefully, endearingly faintly, even if his dick looks intimidatingly big; you’re covering your mouth at the sight of it alone. 

“Come on, don’t be shy now,” San grins and flops his protected peen on your pussy, the girth of it weighing down on your sensitive bud.

“Sannie, baby, please be gentle,” you whine and San caresses your cheek, not finding your plead in any way offensive. 

“I will, sweetheart,” he whispers, and his voice sounds sweet, melts sweetly in your ears, but when his tip is there, at your entrance, you have to grab his hand at your cheek forcefully.

It’s a stretch. If you had known it would have come to this, you would have asked San to add a third, no, maybe even a fourth finger, but maybe he knew too, that even that wouldn’t have helped with a lot.

Not to say that it hurts, but to feel your muscle be extended as he just pushes in the tip, you’re already panting. San intertwines his fingers and leans forward, trying to calm you down. “Are you okay, baby?”, he asks, pouting. “I can stop.”

“N- no,” you stutter, though the bit of movement has had him slide in deeper and thus, your cunt be stretched further. “It’s okay. Just be slow. I can do it.”

“No, Y/N, you have to want it,” San sighs and you press your face against his hand. “I want it,” you murmur, glancing up at him. “I want you, Sannie.”

He smiles in awe of your droopy eyes and luscious lips reaffirming your love to him, and San inhales deeply. “I’ll move a bit more, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both of you inhale at the same time, but it’s San this time to moan it out. “Oh, god,” he whimpers, “feels so good, Y/N. Feels so fucking good.”

And this is where you close your eyes and let your boyfriend do his thing over you, because San’s sounds are candy to your ears. He’s doing it slowly, and heaven knows he can’t push it just entirely just yet, but the first third that San has inside you is enough to make you grip the sheets.

“Are you alright? Baby, is it too much? Can I do more?”, San whines, and you’re too weak-hearted for his arousal-sake, that you sigh sultrily and say, “Sannie, you know what to do.”

“No, no, baby, please don’t say things like that, I really won’t—“

He groans and pushes himself further in. You have to strain your forehead and pull in your eyebrows to work around the fact that you have never felt your cunt be stuffed in like this, and oh god, you feel so stuffed.

“Baby, please tell me when you want me to stop,” San begs you, concerned about your facial expression, kissing your cheek repeatedly. 

“This just feels unfamiliar, that’s all,” you whimper and San pulls out a little bit while you talk. “But you will tell me, right?”, he asks you, and gets a nod in return. You should be seeing black in front of you, given that you’ve closed your eyes, but after San pushes himself in again, there’s a piercing zap that makes you open your eyes wide.

“Sannie, wait—“

He immediately stops and both of you look at each other. San doesn’t move, anxious that anything will make you more anxious, when you grab him by his arms. 

And with one glance down, you see it.

Blood.

Not a lot, fortunately so, but still, bleeding from your privates outside your period is terrifying, and it makes all of your heat flee away— 

Blood!

There’s not a scream or a gasp leaving your mouth, rather just a short soundless inhale that indicates your surprise, when you close your eyes and cover them with the surface of your hands.

Blood?!

“Oh my god, sugar,” San exclaims silently, you don’t know if this is a first for him as well— and though both of you don’t panic as loudly as you could have, your boyfriend still looks mortified, eyes ripped open, mouth opened by a slit, when you remove your palms from your eyelids. “Did I hurt you? Did it hurt? Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I—“

“No, Sannie, it didn’t hurt— It didn’t—“

Not panicking, but still both stammering and not aware of what to do with your hands. 

He pulls out and covers your private with the towel that he used to catch your fluid before, and San immediately claims a serious expression on his face, looking around to find something for you to hold onto. He finds you a pillow, puts it over your stomach, and you cuddle into it, trying to catch a breath. 

You didn’t lie. It didn’t hurt, it really didn’t. At least not even half the the amount of blood that is covering the towel, and you don’t think anything else (let it be more preparation or whatever) could have had helped you two in this situation. Is it just a matter of luck? Of your body? Well, maybe you’re out of luck and your body is going lax as well.

San is removing the condom from his dick and fetching his boxer-shorts again to fully call it quits, using approximately 4 seconds before he disappears in your arms again and smothers you with kisses.

“But— but Sannie…”, you whimper, feeling kind of guilty to be leaving him hanging like this after he’s done so much for you, but he silences you with his lips.

“Don’t you dare say sorry, sugar-pie,” San smiles and brushes over your hair, continuing to peck your face, as he hugs you from aside, and his warm skin soothes the goosebumps you got from seeing red on yourself. “As long you’re not hurting.”

“Do you want to take a shower or do you want to sleep?”, San asks you and you shiver a little bit once the adrenaline has worn down and all that provides you comfort is your boyfriend’s vicinity. “I don’t know, Sannie,” you murmur into his breast and a hand rubs your back. You’re still naked, but San covers you up with a blanket. “You don’t have to know, sugar,” San whispers and rests his chin on top of your head. “Just be here with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You nod into his embrace, feeling exhausted, worn out and tired, and you start to breathe heavily into his skin, San rubbing his thumb across your lower back to match the rhythm of your breathing, your heartbeat slowing down.

You’re safe.

You’re home.

You’re not dreaming, you’re with your boyfriend, Choi San, and even though nobody will know what kind of dreams will visit you, what nightmares will make you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re, well, in love.

Comfortable, soft, warm, at ease, serene — happy; this is what love feels like. A dream doesn’t come close to the unworried warmth love provides, to the warmth the real San provides, and while you doze off, you and San whisper affirmations into each other’s presence that you’ll,

“Dream of me, Y/N.”

[ericscroptop]

Like Honey

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

✧ pairing: bf! sunwoo x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, cursing, oral— female receiving, p!ssy drunk sunwoo, filthy sunwoo, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, praising, pet names, kissing, aftercare, sunwoo is in freaking love with you

✦ word count: 5k words

✧ synopsis: you and your boyfriend are getting ready for bed, and he can’t help but want a midnight snack.

✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰

Spending time with your friends was always filled with boisterous laughter and excitement, but you were always left drained afterwards.

Tonight, you and Sunwoo had dinner with Chanhee and Changmin. It was frequent that you four spent time together since those two were some of Sunwoo’s bestest friends.

You adored them beyond words, but even if you could never become tired of them, your body signaled to you that you needed rest after a long day and time well-spent.

As soon as Sunwoo unlocked the front door and you entered your shared apartment, you immediately removed your shoes and put them on their respective spot on the shoe rack.

Exhausted, you trudged towards the bathroom, dreading removing your makeup but having to do so before you could finally hit the hay.

Entering the bathroom connected to your bedroom, you gather your makeup removal products and skincare, proceeding with taking it all off and washing your face. You then brush your teeth and rinse your mouth, doing all of it in comfortable silence while your boyfriend is getting out of his outside clothes and changing into something more comfortable in the bedroom.

When you’re done, you leave the bathroom and step into the bedroom, wearily smiling at Sunwoo. Of which, he reciprocates as he walks past you to begin his own night time routine.

You rustle through your drawers to pick out some sleepwear, opting with a plain white crop top and some basic black boy shorts. Some looser material would be ideal, but it seemed like a majority of your loungewear was in the hamper.

It felt a bit muggy all day to wear too much clothing to bed tonight. Even though air conditioning exists, you know with your boyfriend curled up next to you that he’d add even more heat onto your body. The less material on you, the better.

After changing, you grab the clothes you’ve shimmied off from the floor and head towards the laundry hamper tucked away in the closet in the bathroom.

You put away the dirty clothing, making a mental note in seeing how almost-full it is that you’d plan to wash tomorrow.

You catch sight of Sunwoo finishing up his own skincare routine, a white spa headband resting over his head, keeping his bangs pushed back while he washed his face.

You then navigate your eyes to his bare back, trailing all the way down to his bottom. Sweatpants hung low around his hips, leaving the waistband of his black Celine boxer briefs in clear view, exposed.

It’s kinda humorous and cute, seeing the juxtaposition of the soft headband with a bow on it adorning your boyfriend’s head while he was wearing pants that you and him both know damn-well outlined his cock deliciously and made his ass look great.

His body is well-toned, with his small waist, arm muscles that flexed unconsciously while proceeding with his night routine— or when doing anything for that matter, and his provocative back. You just admire lowkey half-asleep to yourself, appreciating all the duality he has to offer belongs to lucky you, and you only.

“Almost ready for bed?” you question, followed by an involuntary yawn. Sleep was calling your name, but you didn’t want to bury yourself under the covers until Sunwoo was concomitantly doing it with you.

“Yeah, baby.” he twists slightly to look in your direction at the sound of your voice, an arm raising up to remove the headband from his hair, those fluffy bangs of his bouncing out and hiding his forehead.

You stood under the doorway, right hand resting against the side of the doorframe, and left hand tucked behind your back with ankles crossed.

Sunwoo takes in your presence, his adam’s apple bopping as he swallows hard from his view.

His pupils were spellbound by you when he sees what you’re wearing. It’s hard to not notice the prominent buds that are your nipples clearly visible as the shirt you’ve chosen is snug and lightweight. As well as the outline of your areola’s, noticeable thanks to the bathroom lighting and due to the whiteness of your top.

Your bare legs are also left on display. Those tight cotton boy shorts highlight the curves of your body, and probably make your behind look damn-near perfect and plump. How dare you wear such tight-ass clothing to bed tonight? Are you aware that you live with a man who has carnal instincts and gets a hard-on just from listening to you speak?

As if you weren’t already beautiful enough, the compressed clothing only drew more attention to you. It accentuated every curve and dip of your body. Regardless what you thought about your body, Sunwoo always appreciated every inch of your skin. From your tummy, to any beauty, birth, or stretch marks, to your fleshy ass— all of it. He claimed and loved every part of you, internally and externally.

You shut your eyes for a moment, still in the same stance, pouting your lips cutely at Sunwoo. You don’t even realize what’s going on in your boyfriend’s mind right now, too sleepy to think clearly about anything. All you care about is him crawling into bed with you and catching some z’s.

Looking at you, Sunwoo smirks while he thinks you’re such an innocent little thing. Too tired to realize the effect you have on him right now. He could just eat you up.

And he might actually do just that.

Your eyes open back up as you hear him begin to take a couple steps forward, and your lips curl upwards thinking it’s time to actually go to bed.

Though as you begin to turn around, Sunwoo grabs hold of your wrist, stopping you before you can even get in a step.

You’re suddenly facing him, brows furrowed in confusion at him stopping you. He pulled you in against his chest, hands traveling smoothly down your body until they meet your rear.

He holds and palms at your ass through your underwear, wetting his lips with his tongue as he feels the bottom of your cheeks openly, left peeking out from the fabric.

His touchiness washes off any ounce of drowsiness you had momentarily as you register what he is leading into.

“I know what you’re thinking, but not tonight. I’m sleepy. We can have sex tomorrow, baby.”

Sunwoo merely sighs deeply, hands still on you as he continues to feel you up despite your words.

“Sweetheart…” he begins. “You cannot wear something like this and expect me to not wanna have my way with you.” he repositions his hands over either side of your waist, dragging his thumbs gently over your bare skin soothingly. You’re pulled off his chest, meeting his face, his eyes bearing desperation.

You bring your hands to his shoulders, massaging his muscles lovingly while shaking your head, honestly not surprised that your man is in the mood to play right now. When is he not?

“Most of my other pjs are dirty right now. Plus, I’m feeling kinda’ hot right now.” you simply say.

His thumb starts lazily playing with the waistband of your panties, flicking it against your skin. “Yeah? I’m also feeling kinda’ hot.” his eyes are solely trained on your underwear while he speaks, as if he were stuck in a trance.

You take a second to look down at his crotch, encountering the tantalizing tease of his package that is seemingly demanding attention.

He notices that you sensed his boner, biting back a chuckle once you shoot a glare at him.

“I’m just a boy.” he huffs out, sighing dramatically.

“Yeah, a horny one.” you scoff, about to playfully slap his hands off you before his quick reflexes catch them, his fingers enclasping with your own, now holding both your hands.

“Let me eat you out, gorgeous.” the lust behind your boyfriend’s dark brown eyes is heavily apparent. Although you were looking forward to slumber, your body begins to betray you and switch up. Your core can’t help but tingle, blood flowing to your pussy and swelling in excitement from Sunwoo’s words and fervent hunger for you.

“Please?” he whispers in front of you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes of his bore into yours, his hands still holding yours. His intense gaze and touch is causing your body temperature to increase even more, not just from the air.

His neediness is making you want to fold. The fact that he really is desperate to have a taste of you and focus the pleasures on you is saying a lot right now. He must really want you bad.

“Fuck, I just can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.” your top teeth capture your bottom lip for a moment, Sunwoo having possessed you and falling for his charms.

You were easy, but so was he. It was too easy to succumb to each other and be aroused when you two were infatuated with one another.

Sleep can fucking wait.

Sunwoo’s lips form a smile, cheering internally that he’s convinced you. He couldn’t help himself. He craved to show you how much he desired and felt about you.

His smile is still there as he dives towards your face, connecting his lips with yours. Your mouth opens and welcomes his, your hands thrown around his neck tightly as he slips his tongue into your mouth hungrily.

You each kiss one another amorously. His tongue brushes past your lips and dances with your own, stimulating yours and making your sex hormones spiral in excitement.

Sunwoo’s left hand pinches the skin on your waist, lost in your lips while his right hand grabs your jaw in attempt to keep you steady and as close to him as possible.

A hazy feeling inhabits your body, unable to think straight, just yearning for your boyfriend to keep attacking you insatiably with his lips. You’re already visualizing in your head him between your thighs with his mouth vibrating over your pussy, and that causes a moan to let loose from your throat in between open-mouth kisses.

“Fuckkk,” his chest rumbles as he breathes out and you pull away to catch your breath, shifting in place, anxious for more attention.

His hand that was still on your waist redirects to the other side of your untouched jaw. Now cupping your face, passion carried in his eyes as he searches every inch of your face, enamored by you.

“Tell me you want me to eat you out. Wanna hear you say it.” his intense stare makes you fidget. You crave for things to get going already but he always makes you lose any coherence. His bold nature always has you melting and shy, going dumb at his mere presence and flirtatious demeanor.

“Hm?” at your lack of immediate speech, those Bratz doll-like lips of his pout slightly, brows raised as he looks at you with pleading eyes, emphasizing with his teasing expression how he’s expecting you to use your words.

You’re unable to look away shyly as his hands still clutch to your face, no way of backing out. Curse Sunwoo and his ability to make you feel so weak and vulnerable.

You secretly loved it, though.

“Wa— Want your mouth on my pussy… please.” you shakily breathed, heart racing as you see the satisfied smirk on his face that appears at your words.

“Since you asked so nicely, I think I have to give my baby what she wants,” he says, in awe at how you do exactly what he asks. You’re just so perfect.

He pulls your face towards his own, lips locking once again. Only this time, the kiss is softer and more delicate. He held your face as he kissed you sweetly and slowly, soaking in the feeling of the warmth of your breath and the faint taste of the lip balm you would always apply at the end of your night routine.

Humming at the taste of you, he pulls away and wastes no more time, grabbing your hand and makes way towards the bed.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, sitting up straight as Sunwoo towers in front of you.

He moves around the bed towards the headboard and reaches for a pillow, placing it right in the center of the sheets.

“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” he instructs.

You follow his dominance, allowing your back to fall slowly onto the mattress, the back of your head hitting the pillow he placed for you.

“Good girl. I’ll take care of you.” he murmurs, bringing a hand to your knee to stroke it affectionately. Every inch of your skin prickled with goosebumps from this angle, waiting for Sunwoo to touch you where you needed it the most.

He suddenly gets on the bed, your eyes widening slightly as his arms and legs are now on either side of you, holding himself up over your body. Those beautiful eyes of his settle on your breasts, cocking his head as he stares at them shamelessly, making your face redden at him ogling your chest.

“The girls are sitting pretty. So pretty that I think i’ll keep your shirt on.” he chuckles, diving his face down into one of your mounds and sucking a nipple through the tight material, causing you to whimper at his unexpected act.

He’s teasing you, taking his time sucking at both your erect nipples through your shirt, and fondles with your tits through the fabric, smirking and looking up at you as he does so.

Your thighs press together at how erotic this is, fingers clinging onto the sheets from how this is driving you delirious. His teasing is addictive but painful. You don’t know if you can be patient any longer.

“Sunwoo!” you whine, swallowing hard and your shaky breaths fill the room— music to his ears.

And he’s just getting started.

“God, you’re so sexy.” he practically growls, removing his mouth from your clothed tits and looking proudly at the wet patches of his own saliva he’s left stained behind.

He crawls off over you and off the bed, starting to kneel down and position himself on the ground, getting ready to feast in between your legs.

One of his calloused hands paw at your exposed stomach, feeling your tummy up and down, toying with your senses even more as his fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear every time he rubs down, coming in contact with your public region as he does so.

“Sunwoo, please…” you faintly beg. You don’t know how much more teasing you can take. Your pussy might as well be whining aloud at this point alongside you.

He’s eyeing your expressions, finding amusement in the way your brows creased, how your lips remained parted, and at your increase in breathing.

He then grazes his lips over your inner thighs, beginning to trail kisses over the skin. You can’t help but squirm a bit as he gets closer to the most intimate part of your body, causing him to keep his hand on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Hey,” he warns, making you whimper. “I know, sweetheart. But be good for me, ‘kay?”

He finally decides to end your sexual frustration and any more delay, thinking he’s played with your mind enough already to get you going.

And now, he should get to playing with that pretty pussy of yours.

His fingers hook around the waistband of your boy shorts, tugging them all the way down your legs.

Once fully off, he finds the gusset of your underwear, boldly bringing it to his nose and inhales with it making direct contact against his nostrils, feeling the dampness you’ve left behind.

“Mhmmm.” he sighs in pleasure of the arousing smell lingering, cock twitching in excitement, making you gasp and nibble on your bottom lip at the lewd scene. Watching as he visibly enjoys your dirty underwear, sending your mind into a fucking frenzy at how filthy he was.

He’s not embarrassed in the slightest at showing how attracted he is to you, and it makes you want to combust with cum just at that.

He stuffs the underwear in the pocket of his sweats for now, and his dominant hand finally seeks for your demanding region. He cups your sex and feels how warm you are down here, as well as the lubricating fluid you have produced thus far from sexual excitement.

You suck in a breath at his large hand greeting you, quickening heartbeat at the feeling.

“Awe, so needy, hm? She’s aching isn’t she?” his voice is laced with fake sympathy as he taunts you, eyes going back and forth between your own and your cunt as he speaks.

He has you whimpering desperately, making him snicker at the fact that only he can make you feel this way.

He dives in between your legs to press a kiss over your folds, emphasizing the pucker sound of his lips greatly. He then drags the broad, flat of his tongue up along your entire pussy, almost-painfully slow and leaving behind his spit.

“Ah, shit!” you moan, clenching the sheets in between your fingers, trying your best to not close your legs or squirm too much at the sensitive feeling. This is what you wanted, after all.

Sunwoo ganders over your glistening cunt, savoring how it’s served right in front of him. Extremely blessed that you present it to him and that he gets to call you his. He thinks this every-single time, and it’ll always leave him wonderstruck.

He takes a good whiff of your pussy, his throat rumbling as he groans from the smell of your arousal. Lusty to his nostrils.

“Always so fucking pretty, just like you, gorgeous.” he refers to your cunt and then to you, making you mewl like crazy.

He finally attaches his mouth fully onto your sex, beginning to suck and lick at your folds, his groans vibrating all over your cunt.

“Mmph— fuck! Sunwoo!”

His tongue parts through your pussy lips and licks open your hole. He licks and slurps hungrily as if you were a pudding cup, trying to reach every crack and crevice of your sex with his mouth. His saliva mixes with your arousal, creating a hot, wet mess down there.

You can’t help but arch your back at the intense devotion he’s showering to your cunt. Feeling like you’re so helpless as you don’t know what to do with all the pleasure coursing through your veins while his mouth makes love to your pussy.

Your dominant hand reaches out into Sunwoo’s fluffy locks, beginning to desperately tug onto his hair and pull it slightly, letting him know how he’s driving your senses crazy.

He raises his head up slightly, backing away from your folds momentarily, making you lose the grip on his hair. He licks his lips as he meets your gaze, drool starting to drip from the corners of his mouth.

“Got me so pussy drunk, baby.” he laughs, then starts attending to your cunt again.

His eyes are still locked with your own as he sticks an index and middle finger in his mouth together, coating them with the wetness of his mouth and pulls out with a soft pop.

Although you’re wet enough that you can take it without him having to lubricate them with his mouth beforehand, he does it for show, his cock throbbing at how heavy lidded your eyes are as you watch him in a awestruck daze.

Even with you knowing what’s coming, you still jolt as he inserts his two digits, hissing at the feeling of them sliding up into your hole.

He smirks as he crooks them just right, fingers curled while he pumps into your warm sex.

Those thick fingers of his now fill you up and you can’t help but continue to breathe heavily as a whole slew of sexual hormones are running untamed throughout your body.

Sunwoo then decides to simultaneously take care of your swollen clit, attaching his mouth back onto your pussy over the engorged bud, adding more feelings of euphoria to your mind.

Every-single nerve ending of your clit tingles from those pillowy lips of his and his tongue lapping around. You can’t help but buck your hips into his fingers and face, moaning nonstop from the stimulation of his fingers while he eats you.

“Sun— Su— Sunwoo.” breathless whines roll out of you.

“You like that? Yeah?” he breathes out in between sucks, smirking as his actions are making you lose control, moving uncontrollably and crying out his name.

He continues to drive his fingers in you nonstop, steadily thrusting them into you and brushing along your spongey walls.

Squishy noises from the amount of wetness your pussy is coated in fills the room, only encouraging Sunwoo to continue the pace and maintain suction on your bundle of nerves.

His fingers are hitting you just right— in that special spot. He feels your cunt clamp around his fingers, giving them a nice squeeze. Oh, you’re so tight and close, he thinks to himself.

Your boyfriend is drawn to the way you ball up the bedsheets within your fists. How you buck up your hips so eagerly. The way the expressions on your face are beautifully screwed up— brows furrowed, mouth left hanging, eyes rolling back and fluttering.

He’s rock hard in seeing and hearing your reactions, blood rushing and flowing to his genitals as yours do. So turned on from the control he has over you, bringing you immense pleasure from his touches, and drowned in the pretty noises your body is making from your mouth and cunt.

The exhilarating duo of his mouth and thick fingers is becoming overpowering to your brain and body. If possible than already is, your breathing starts getting heavier and whinier in a stronger manner at the feeling of your stomach tightening and pussy feeling so full.

Every muscle in your body squeezes at the intense pressure crashing over you. Your body is in so much heat, beginning to feel that familiar coiled tension that you know all too well. Though this time, it feels slightly different. It’s somewhat stronger, and almost unbearable to keep holding it in. And uncontrollable.

The sensation has you crying out Sunwoo’s name and mumbling brokenly. You’re suddenly growing teary-eyed, shaking your head from left to right as the strong urge to release is raging to be let free.

Sunwoo evidently hears and sees you struggling and coming close to crashing down, so he begins to encourage you to relieve yourself.

“Let it go, baby! Ride it out on my face and fingers.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare hold back.”

“Show me how much you love it. I wanna see you cum on me. Show me, baby girl.”

Soft tremors from the inside of your thighs build into your legs beginning to shake nonstop as you listen to his words— even in your mind-numbing daze— and so you swamp his face, fingers, and entire veiny hand with your fluids.

High pitched practically-screams leave your mouth instantly as your clear fluid gushes out and splashes up into your boyfriend’s face, teardrops running down your heated cheeks from the feeling of relief.

You’re left speechless at the awareness of the amount of release coming out of you. It’s an amount that is foreign to you, almost like you’re squirting.

Your squirts synchronize with the way your pussy is pulsing as you orgasm, all slippery and runny fluid washing down.

Too focused on your release bewitching you, you don’t even process how you’re affecting Sunwoo.

He has never heard you this insanely vocal in the times you shared any type of sex. Nor has he been blessed with witnessing this much fluid spouting out from your cunt.

He believes you have just squirted.

And he’s the sole reason why.

“Oh fuck, baby!” your pleasure amplifies his pleasure, his cock pulsating under his underwear, making him buck his hips shamelessly into the air.

He grunts and groans as he does so, into your sex as he slurps some of your fluids and essence into his mouth. So tangy and sweet to his tastebuds.

You’re just so fucking sexy and always never cease to amaze him.

It’s so fulfilling. The rewarding feeling that he made you get to this point. Your squirt coinciding with your cum. All this just for him. Because of him.

His body responds to how he feels about you and this erotic scene by blowing a hot load of cum in his underwear. He can’t even be embarrassed about it. Fuck it. That was beautiful.

Your ears are ringing and you’re dizzy, feeling like you’re going in-and-out of consciousness.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo is trying to catch his breath as he comes down from his orgasm, still eye-level with your pussy.

He looks like a glazed donut with your pussy liquids glistening his face. He licks the corners of his mouth and rubs whatever remains with the back of his hand, and backs away from your cunt.

He crawls over the bed towards your side at your shivering state and lack of words, and immediately brings his hand to your hair, massaging and caressing your head.

“Hey, baby, talk to me.” his voice gravelly.

“Mhmm.” you moan weakly, eyes closed and barely fluttering open.

“You were so good, sweetheart. So fucking good.” he praises, pressing tender kisses against the flesh of your cheek, attempting to bring you back to your regular state of mind.

“Stay awake for me. Gonna clean us up, ‘kay?”

Sunwoo quickly gets off the bed, scurrying to find the baby wipes and towel to clean you up before you knock out.

He cleans you up first, making you hiss slightly at the feeling of any contact towards your sensitive pussy after coming down, but he coos at you and says sweet nothings during the short process.

He notices some of your fluids have left the sheets under your lower region all soaked and stained. It was no problem to him— he didn’t care, but he’d have to change them super fast and unfortunately move you off the bed to do so.

You’re suddenly picked up momentarily by your boyfriend, and he starts to carry you out the room, towards the living room, and places you gently over the couch.

You feel less hazy now and eyes are more open, curious as to what Sunwoo was doing.

“Gonna change the sheets real fast and i’ll be back to grab you and then get you some fresh underwear.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and you hummed, watching as he walked back into the room.

It didn’t take long for him to get on some fresh sheets, keeping his promise and coming back to carry you back to bed. He places you on the mattress and gets you into a fresh pair of panties, not being able to help himself in pressing sweet kisses onto your thighs as he swells in love from taking care of you.

He then adjusts you to be tucked under the covers and walks away, making you whine at him not immediately joining you.

“Sunwoo… come to bed, baby.” you pout tiredly.

He can’t help but melt at your cuteness and begging. Wanting nothing more than to be snuggled up by your side right now.

“I gotta clean myself up first. Give me a minute, sweetheart.”

You’re not sure what he means, not knowing that he came in his underwear. You were too far gone to notice he had an untouched release.

He grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs and headed to the bathroom. He quickly removed his sweats and ruined underwear, dealt with the mess, and pulled on the clean underwear.

He took care of himself and walked back into the bedroom, finally joining you and going to do what you wanted to do in the first place.

Once his body hits the bed and settles, he pulls you towards his bare chest and you cling onto him.

You sigh contently as you close your eyes, happily cuddling into him.

With his bare legs entangled with your own, you are made aware that he’s removed his sweats and had to change.

Curious, you decide to ask him why.

He bites his lip before answering, feeling just an ounce of shyness, but honestly who cares? You make him weak all the time. He’s in fucking love with you.

“You made me cum.” he chuckles.

“Really?” you’re shocked and amused.

“Yeah. You squirted, baby. That was so fucking hot. You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“Wait what!?” N-no, I don’t think so. It was so intense. Never felt anything like that before.” you babbled, face reddening.

You’ve never poured out a release like that. Like, squirting? That’s what that was. You’ve obviously heard about it but didn’t think you were capable in doing so.

“Hey— I loved it. Don’t think too much about it. That was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen.” he tells you, making your face heat up even more.

“My little squirter.” he grins from ear to ear, earning him a kick from you to his own leg from underneath the covers at his teasing.

“Hey!” he responds to your kick, hissing but laughing slightly from your action. “That’s a compliment.”

“Let’s just talk more tomorrow, baby.” you roll your eyes playfully, and then shut them. You guys can talk more about this tomorrow. He’s already ripped you away from sleep by wanting to eat you— though, you cannot complain. That was singlehandedly the best oral sex you’ve ever had. But now, you just want to actually go to sleep with your pretty boy.

Sunwoo listens, smiling like an idiot at your figure. He ends the teasing (for now) and lays a kiss over your hair, rubbing your back as you rested against his chest, starting to drift off to sleep.

“I love you so much.” he whispers into the air, thinking you’re asleep already, but he says it anyways.

A quiet giggle surprises him though, making his heartbeat flutter at your beautiful sound.

“I love you, too.”

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