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#dont forget the EYE MASK

constellies · 10 months

Note

Hi Dragon hello hi THE BLOOD LIZARD I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE BLOOD LIZARD please ?

Oleg !!

Lovely blood lizard is Veil, previous Lord of Conquest and now Lord of Vengeance and Blood, sister inheritor of Dominion, and Parabellum's younger sibling in godhood. They were torn into life by the death of the Lord of Dominion, rising straight from the corpse before living in the House of Seekers and House of Defiance. Parabellum (and her mentor figure I still haven't named) steered them away from their purpose before both a sect of House Defiance had been invited to the throne world of Upheo, Lord of Opulence, who had witnessed the same power that drove the Lord of Dominion insane.

Upheo of course, also goes mad, proclaiming themself to be a herald of the End and is consumed by gluttony and obsession. Both Veil and Parabellum are part of their grand vision, with Veil gradually being manipulated into a force of destruction and nosediving hard into the mindset after their death by the hands of their sister.

They eventually escape this mindset at some point during the story down the line, Parabellum tries to help them.

Bullet list of more Facts

All of their dialogue is in caps and without quote marks, in lore its because their voice made up of growls and shrieks

They are ofc a dragon but does have a humanoid form that's actually abandoned when Veil and Parabellum separate, and they don't adopt that form again until they both cross paths

Veil has the ability to merge with other lords and only uses it once, and it causes the world to end a second time

they are,, Covered in lords blood and use it to their own advantage, being highly skilled using blood magic with their own blood being volatile from parabellums corruption

Here is their humanoid design by @midlucid !

#asks #oc asks #scopophobia #eye contact #because this drawing is like 👁️👁️#body horror #maybe uhh #this took so long because i would Forget id have the ask . and then rewrote my answer 5 times . oops #hey tarot lore mutuals if you see this ask no you dont .............. cover you eyes sshhh #i also wrote this both on my phone and desktop . yeah #they have a face under there also ! veil just prefers looking like a chthonic entity #if they really wanted to it could be more like a mask or shift it to just be a mouth of Teeth #their design has changed a bit (they have pants now) but i dont have an updated drawing on hand rn #they are a major antagonist in tarot due to starting A Lot of things like reviving achmalier in the first place to use a host #oh wait #veil #ok #i nearly forgot that tag

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nablah · 1 year

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its 146 am and i cant sleep because IM in KNOTS over my global studes prof who i cannot. decipher. what the fuck does he want i dont get it because i will craft the most intricate essay and ill get an 86?? an 86?? its not abt the grade but he grades accdg to a rubric and i dont show "collaboration" even when i cite my groupmates essays and talk avout our discussions?? apparently its also not (diff hw) aesthetic enough?? i really dont get it and i feel like im back in junior high where i got fucking demerits for not smiling in class and it creeped my teacher out so she gave me a fucking demerit

anyway aside from the im not racist racism he's easy enough to talk to and i will in...6 hours butim tired im so tired of masking

i had thus prof before in history idk i spouted more bullshit back then than now so??

#hi just needed to rant bc im so tired and i am. lonely and alone #i got top2 on a radiation therapy quiz 2 day andd some people just rolled their eyes #im very close to breaking ahahaha #somefimes i forget im autistic because i am xtremely low energy and i dont stim obviously and i mask so well and then a day like this happ #ens and i spiral and i need to go to an asylum actually or stab my eyes

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sayoneee · 5 months

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☆ POISON

“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.

kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)

i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it

“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”

“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.

luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.

despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.

“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”

“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside.

“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.

“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.

“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.

you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”

“duly noted.”

“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”

“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”

“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.

“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”

you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.

“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.

“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.”

luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”

“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”

“so you’ve discussed me then.”

“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.

luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him.

after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”

you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus…” you trail off.

“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy.

“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.

luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.

ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside

“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”

deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash.

luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”

as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”

you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”

your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.

you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed.

luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”

before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side.

“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.

“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces.

“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”

“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“yes you —”

“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”

“what details even are there to give?”

silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you.

drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”

silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”

“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.

“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew.

“well, that was a shit show.”

you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual.

“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands.

your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”

you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.

“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”

“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.

“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”

your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands.

“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”

iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come

luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention.

the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder.

annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.

you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.

annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”

you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”

you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”

“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.

“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him.

“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.

luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”

“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”

“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”

you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars.

iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part

“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.

“nothing.”

“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish.

“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes.

“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.

“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.

“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.

“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.

the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.

silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.

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undyinglament · 2 years

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//Vivi put brainworms into my head so Ive been thinking about prototypes of Varshahn

The first attempts of Simulcrums were unable to properly house the draconic eye but could hold a certain amount of draconic aether and could briefly withstand Vrtra’s consciousness before the aether began to overwhelm the form. These first forms required keeping Vrtra’s eye on their person - not within it, which was too much of a risk to do often.

Varshahn’s current body was made as a child as children are far more adaptive and so was finally able to hold the entire eye within him.

#this is just a quick play with the m.od #i dont like this scale pattern but there were probably a few different versions #✧ — ⋆ ooc #✧ — ⋆ He carries secrets in his eyes. Headcanon. The Simulacrum #✧ — ⋆ You wear a mask for so long you forget who you were beneath it. Headcanon. The Satrap

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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months

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✮ tags ; gn!reader, usage of honorfics (-senpai once, -san), submissive ish nanami, blowjobs, anal fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.7k (???????????)

✮ a/n ; i dont know what happened. not even a nanami girl. but. i see a man in need. nanami sorry for what every does to you.

It's so easy to get Nanami to bent out of shape.

He tries his best, you think. He tries hard, and he's a good guy. You always feel bad being around him and pulling your pranks and antics. You're not like Satoru - he's told you, because you're much more conniving. Unlike Satoru, who Nanami finds dishonest - he thinks you're too direct. Too plain in your admission, your admonishment, your praise.

He deserves a break, for all the tremendous pressure he puts on himself to do well and protect. to make something out of his life. There's some part of him you feel a lot of sympathy for, and another part that sees him for what he is. A man under duress who's practically begging for reprieve. He wants to vacation on a beach somewhere, but he can't.

You think it's natural - inevitable, that Nanami will give into your flirting. You lay it on thick every time he comes by. he's only unaffected in the brief stretch of time where he thinks you're teasing him. Because he's older than you, jaded, easy. When he realizes there's even the slightest bit of sincerity in your words, he suddenly can't look you in the eye.

It's a troublesome affair for him to have feelings for his junior. It's inappropriate, and he can't approach you in the way he likes. The way he likes being controlled and practiced. He's quite the gentleman. Later, you'll sure he'll wine and dine you nicely as a proper thank you. A man like that leaves no good deed unaccounted for.

But for now, you don't really want to let Nanami do anything for you. You've always wanted to do something for him. Break him down. Maybe it's your problem, since a man with that kind of neuroses always turns on the worst in you.

Still. Still. You can see something in him that no one else does, a desire to forget himself. You can give that to him without trying that hard at it, but it does take a lot of convincing.

He's got the handsomest face when he's embarrassed out of his fucking mind. He gets red. You've never seen it before - but his face is lit up. Pink up to his ears.

He's haphazard. Shirt unbuttoned but not off, tie loosened. He took off his pants but couldn't manage his boxers. You've been riling him up all evening, teasing and testing and pushing. When he finally kissed you later on in the evening, an expression close to a plea - you knew you had him where you wanted him.

So you made it to his apartment, kissed in his hallway, pulled him onto the couch and dry-humped like two idiot teenagers. He can't see him to control it after all your meticulous bullying and he looks so much better that way. Loosened up and picked apart.

He's so easy. It's unimaginable for you in some ways, that your cool and collected senior could break apart over something like this. He's normally so reserved, but you've breached some upper limit and now he's like this underneath you.

The muscles of his thighs are tense as you sit patiently between his legs, a hand on his knee with another wrapped around his shaft. you laugh a little at the state, the pre-cum dripping down your fingers and

"Nanami-san," you punctuate the honorifics "You alright up there?"

He lets out a sigh like he's been holding it in all evening. He tries so hard. So hard. You respect it, admire his endless resolve. He chokes down a sound as your hands grip around the base of his cock.

"Yes," He says, only barely masking the thin veil of desperation in his voice. He's almost begging you. You think you're probably awful enough to get him there "I'm fine."

"You sure? You're red in the face. Been a while? You seem like the serial monogamist type. When was the last time you got laid?"

In an act of unbelievable cruelty, you decide the best time to blow him is now. You open your jaw wide, stick your tongue out and let the spit pool onto the tip of his length. He hisses, almost bites a hole in his lip looking down at you in disbelief. His cock throbs painfully in your hand and you giggle - which makes him look down at you ashamed.

You blink innocently, silently imploring him to keep going. He sighs, an arm thrown over his eyes and his hand closed into a hard fist. You close your mouth around the head, minding your teeth. Nanami tastes like skin and salt and musk, but not unpleasant at all. His pre-cum taste clean, just like the rest of him is so prim and perfect. You dip your tongue into his slit, watching him squirm before taking him down even further.

"Could you please—for the love of—"

You slide off your mouth of to talk. You can't help but want to press his buttons.

"Come on, Nanami-san. You can withhold a little bit. You're so sturdy, y'know, more than I thought. Tell me about your sex life."

Nanami can recognize your words for what they are, because he knows you and the games you play with him. He frowns hard, meeting your eyes and closing his own with a sigh.

"I don't remember," Nanami tells you, honest - nearly biting a hole into his lower lip as you massage his balls with your hands, soft as you kiss down his shaft and lave your tongue over the thin skin "It's been a long time. Years."

"That so? You deserve an orgasm, Nanami-senpai. A good one. You really work hard," You punctuate every word with a touch, a squeeze before he shivers himself into a mess. "Every had anything up there?"

His eyes widen in shock and dismay, but not disgust.

"....A very, very long time ago."

"You okay with it?"

"....Well, yes. I guess so."

"Any lube?"

"There's uhm," Nanami stutters, rubs his eyes like he doesn't know where he is "Oil. In the drawer."

"Kay," You say, casually, patting his thigh as you reach over to get it and return to him no problem. He looks at you awestruck and you look back at him with nothing more to offer "Try and relax,"

You warm the oil up in your fingers first before you pull his cock up enough to touch his ass. The rim of muscle flutters as you touch it, slick thumb drawing circles around. He makes a noise you can't identify, followed by one you can. A moan, slight and quiet enough to go undetected. You grin silently as you ease a finger in, a thumb first then your pointer. Nanami breathes through the motion, and you move slow enough to get him to relax.

Once there's one, you go back to blowing him. He loosens up immediately when he feels the warmth of your mouth, hot and slick, suctioned around his cock. You relax your throat taking him deep, opening his ass at the same time.

It's more attention than he's had in a while. There's an unmistakble quality of lust, gargled words and sounds and shuddering. His chest is so flushed in the bare light of apartment he almost glows. You start with one finger and keep your blowing steady - start him easy with stimulation.

You get another, then another - and when your three fingers in, you decide you have some room to be relentless. Ruthless. You curl your fingers and search for his prostate. You know when you've found it because the sound he lets out is debauched.

It's easy - too easy, to get Nanami completely bent out of shape. Getting him this broken this fast almost feels like a trick of light - his dark brown eyes rimmed red and shaking. Such a composed gentlemanly sort moaning a fucking mess.

His strong chest is trembling as it rises up and down trying to catch a breath. You know when you find the spot because he nearly jerks his hips, but shows enough restraint not to do it. Not to fuck up into his throat animalistically like he wants so badly.

A well-trained man he is. You suppose all men can be a little like dogs.

So you reward him by deep-throating him. It takes all of your willpower and expertise but the reaction is more than worth it.

So polite, he doesn't even swear when he breaks underneath your ministrations. Doesn't cry, doesn't even scream when he wants too. His cock shudders and twitches and pulses against the warmth of your mouth, pre-cum streaming into your throat like a broken faucet. But he doesn't let himself cum, doesn't do anything but let you have your way with him.

No, he wants you to have your way with him.

You pull off and he whines. Whines. His voice, thick and deep, so pitched with need you almost want to laugh. You kiss his cock affectionately.

"You can cum when you feel like it. 'Kay?"

He just nods, speechless. Needy. You feel so good and a little sorry for him at the same time. But you're urged by a silent desire to ruin him at his very foundation.

So for the last time, you let your mouth come down on him and fuck him with your fingers. You give it everything, bobbing your hand and timing your rhythms well enough that your wrists hurt. It's a game of balance, but you manage it - because with even the slightest gestures or veritable movements, Nanami folds.

He caves in on himself, breathing ragged and practically drooling. Poor Nanami, you think. It's just so easy to get him this way, and it's fun too.

The words barely get out of his throat before he can warn you, frantically that he's going to cum. But you don't move, pushing forward and barrelling your way towards his orgasm. You can feel it happen on your tongue, cock twitching hard and he unloads deep into your throat.

You don't taste it so it's easy to swallow, and you swallow hard as you milk him making him pull you off in a desperate plea for mercy.

You laugh as you pull away from him, watching as he stares down at you awestruck and a little afraid. You wipe the corners of your mouth and smile.

"You're so sexy, Nanami-san,"

He groans in shame and embarrassment, still red to the tip of his ears.

"Enough out of you."

#nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #writing tag #idk #i had a Thought. it Consumed me.

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softsturn · 6 months

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imagine being best friends with matt, and you guys text 24/7, and one day you decide to get risky because youve had a crush on him forever - and if he gets the hint, and thinks you wanna fuck him then he gets the hint - if he doesn’t and thinks it was a simple accident, never for him, then he thinks it was an accident and nothing is seriously ruined

so you get on your favorite mini skirt, posing infront of the mirror sitting down and **ever so slightly** opening your legs to reveal your glistening folds, snapping a pic and sending him a photo. “dont forget to match me for our lunch date!” you send an innocent text after, making sure to seem normal as you possibly could.

he immediately opened it, typing for a while but didn’t reply. you wonder if he finds it weird, and get worried and insecure, but he sends a “did you mean to send me that?” after a minute, and you smile to yourself - “of course? i want you to match me.” you reply innocently, and he hearts the message. you wonder if he did find it weird.

once you get to lunch you guys sit down next to eachother, chris and nick across the table as he sat down next to you, smiling.

the restuarunt was actually quite loud, and chris had airpods in, nick finding the bathroom as Matt turns to you, smiling. “are you wearing underwear?” he whispered, your smile fading as you widen your eyes, turning to him, “no? you dirty slut”, he began and put his hand on your thigh, glancing at you with hopeful eyes as you nod, but he shook his head. “words, baby.”

u can decide what goes on from there lel 🤺🤺🤺

miniskirt - m.s

⩩ pairing: matt x fem!reader

⩩ summary: read the request

⩩ warnings: fingering, light degradation, exhibitionism

⩩ a/n: i really hope i did this request justice!! i could probably do a part two of this, just leave ideas if thats something you’d want. also thanks so much for all the support on my last work!!!!! 🩶🫂

You and Matt have been best friends since forever, befriending him and his brothers in elementary school, and the rest was history. You were close with all three of the boys, but the bond you shared with Matt was different. The two of you were practically attached at the hip, always wanting to be near one another, and when you couldn’t be near each other, you were on your phones texting and calling each other. The two of you are each others comfort, he’s your home, your lifeline, and you’re the same for him. Navigating the very fine line between platonic feelings and something more isn’t always easy, especially not when hes as handsome as he is and you’re both so familiar with each other.

You wanted to make a move, you wanted him to know how you felt, but you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. The fear of losing him was debilitating, you’d rather have him as your best friend than nothing at all. However, you��ve found yourself on the floor, adorned in your favorite miniskirt, posed in front of your mirror with your legs slightly open. You weren’t wearing any panties, exposing your pretty pink cunt. You snapped a picture, mind running wild as you debate if you’re really ready to do this. Clicking Matt’s contact, your thumb hovers over the send button, you bite your lip, and nervously press it. Quickly following up with an innocent text, trying to mask the intensity of what you’ve just sent. “Don’t forget to match me for dinner tomorrow!!”

He immediately opened the text, and you feel your stomach knot as you wait for his reply. He could either get the hint, and do something about it or, he could chalk it up to being accidental, which would be slightly awkward but nothing would be seriously ruined between you two. The seconds feel like hours as you watch him type, but he doesn’t reply. You internally curse yourself, his silence triggered insecurity, fearing that you’ve just ruined your most cherished friendship. In the midst of your despair, your phone finally dings with a notification from him. “Did you mean to send me that?” he inquired. You take a deep breath, trying to craft the perfect response. Smiling to yourself as you text back feigning innocence, as if you don’t notice the risky picture. “duh? i want you to match with me.” He hearts the message, leaving you uncertain, casting doubt as you prepare for dinner.

Collecting yourself, you complete your makeup and style your hair. Opting to go without panties, you're left in the miniskirt and a crop top. As you head out, thoughts of your text exchange with Matt linger, and the anticipation of potential awkwardness looms. Arriving at the bustling and noisy restaurant, you cringe at the sensory overload. Seated at the table the triplets reserved, Chris, with his AirPods in, offers a smile before returning to his phone. Nick greets you and gives you a side hug as he heads to find a bathroom, leaving you practically alone with Matt as you take a seat beside him in the booth, Chris across from you, along with Nick's empty space.

"Hey," Matt whispers, a smile playing on his lips as he takes in your appearance. You respond with a sheepish smile, exhaling nervously as his eyes linger on the familiar skirt from the earlier picture. You swear you detect a flicker of lust in his gaze as he observes the miniskirt showcasing your thighs. A teasing smirk crosses his lips, leaning in closer, his breath caressing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Are you wearing underwear?" he whispers.

Your smile fades, eyes widening as if the air has been sucked from your lungs. You hadn't anticipated him bringing up the picture, especially not here and not like this. Turning slightly towards him, jaw slightly dropped, you're rendered speechless, unable to trust the words that might escape. He releases a low, breathy chuckle at your bewildered expression, checking if Chris is paying attention. His gaze returns to you, and he licks his lips. "I’ll take that as a no? Such a slut..." he taunts, his hand finding your thigh under the table, giving it a small squeeze, igniting butterflies in your stomach. Raising his eyebrows, eyes filled with anticipation as you nod to confirm your lack of panties, he shook his head as he coaxed, "Words, baby."

"No, I'm not wearing any underwear," you mumble sheepishly, biting your lip. His hand moves up painfully slow, his eyes attentively tracing every reaction to his touch, as if committing your responses to memory. This situation was beyond what you expected when you sent that picture; now, with his hand creeping up your thigh, you're uncertain how to proceed. He smiles at your sudden shyness, leaning in closer, his lips brushing over your ear. "Atta girl, you listen so well."

"Matt, we're in a restaurant," you whisper sternly, though your voice wavers. Squeezing your thighs shut, you guide his hand away with your own, shooting him a warning glare. Despite the growing desire between your legs, engaging in this here, with Chris across the table and Nick likely to return soon, feels too risky. Matt revels in the thrill, enjoying watching you squirm as you attempt to stay unfazed by his persistent touch. "Which is exactly why you're gonna be quiet for me. Can you do that, baby?" he says softly, the smug smirk on his face almost challenging you.

Your gaze shifts to Chris, engrossed in his phone with an empty spot beside him awaiting Nick's return. Returning your attention to Matt, you scan his sharp features and nod. "Yes, I'll be quiet," you agree, slowly allowing your thighs to open once more, anticipating the touch of his long, slender fingers. His eyes glint with adoration as his hand resumes its journey up your thigh, slipping tantalizingly under your miniskirt. Moving with agonizing slowness, he watches as you shudder with each upward movement. His fingertips graze over your core, and he chuckles slightly at the frustrated sigh escaping you. The anticipation is maddening, and in a less public setting, you'd have surrendered to him entirely. He swipes his index finger through your wet folds, eliciting a gasp as one of his cold rings meets your sensitive skin. "Fucking soaked," he mumbles, and you impatiently huff, growing tired of his teasing. "I'm so close to doing it myself."

He grips your chin in a possessive, and dominant manner, forcing you to meet his gaze. "One day, I'm gonna fuck that bratty little mouth of yours," he grunts, using the opportunity of no one watching to steal your lips in a kiss, swallowing the moan that escapes as two of his fingers slide into you, stretching your tight walls. Breaking the kiss once he senses you can keep quiet, or at least try, his fingers gradually start pumping into you, the restaurant's bustling atmosphere and loud music drowning out the slick, wet sounds. One of your hands clutches the booth seat, the other clinging to his knee, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you attempt to stifle your whines and whimpers.

Suddenly, Nick returns from the bathroom, causing your eyes to widen and your face to flush. Matt halts his movements, but he keeps his fingers inside you. The thought of being caught, especially by his brothers, is paralyzing. As Nick rejoins, Chris diverts his attention from his phone, engaging in conversation about new video ideas. Matt nods along, feigning interest, and gradually resumes pumping his fingers into you. You shoot him a panicked look, to which he only smirks.

A waiter arrives with appetizers ordered by the boys before your arrival, and takes your orders. While Nick and Chris indulge in the appetizers, you find yourself indulging in a different sensation—Matt's fingers exploring you in enticing ways. Balancing the act of appearing normal becomes challenging when your best friend is treating you so intimately. Refraining from joining the conversation, you grab an appetizer, bringing it to your mouth as you attempt to eat. Matt's sees this and his fingers quicken their pace, causing a small moan to escape you. Chris raises an eyebrow, shooting a questioning glare your way, prompting Matt to ease up as Chris starts to speak. "You okay, Y/N?"

Eyes widening, you choke slightly on your food, hastily nodding at him. "Y-yeah, the appetizer is just really good," you mumble sheepishly, and Matt snickers. Chris gives you a strange look but returns to his conversation. You're tempted to hit Matt for embarrassing you, but his fingers remain deep inside you, making you completely defenseless. Your knees attempt to shut, shying from the intensifying sensation in your stomach, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this. Matt's foot nudges yours over his, bringing your leg slightly onto his lap, compelling you to spread. Leaning in to your neck, he whispers into your ear, "Can you keep quiet if I let you cum, hmm?"

You nod desperately, but Matt narrows his eyes, halting his finger movements entirely. A silent whine escapes your lips from the loss of momentum, and your eyes plead with him to continue. "Words," he mutters harshly, taunting you. You try to calm yourself, the last thing you need is to accidentally moan and give away what's happening under the table. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, you manage to say, "Yes, please," in a hushed voice.

Amusement plays across Matt's face, finding it entertaining to watch you struggle to hold yourself together. He resumes his movements, slowly pumping his fingers inside you, rebuilding the knot in your stomach. "Good girl, cum all over my fingers, princess," he murmurs as he pulls back. His gaze returns to his brothers, maintaining the facade of genuine interest in their conversation, but his focus is solely on you and the desire to make you feel good. His fingers thrust mercilessly inside you, his thumb tracing circles on your swollen clit. The overwhelming sensation brings you dangerously close to the edge. With your elbow on the table, you bring your head to rest in your hand, covering your mouth to conceal the lewd moans threatening to escape. Matt curls his fingers inside, providing the extra push needed. You bite down on your hand, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed as you come on his fingers. A muffled moan escapes your throat, but blinded by bliss, you don't care. Nick and Chris glance over, offering worried looks.

"Y/N, are you sure you're okay?" Chris asks, confusion etched on his face. Matt's fingers gradually ease out of you, your breathing slightly heavy as you attempt to regain your senses. "Yeah... I think I'm just having a really bad migraine," you mumble, feigning discomfort as you rub your temple. Chris and Nick nod understandingly, offering sympathetic looks. Matt pats your knee thats on top of his own and smiles slightly at his brothers. "I'm gonna take her home, just box our food and bring it home with you guys later, i’ll Venmo you for an Uber," he says, ushering you out of the booth. The two boys bid you farewells, and as Matt grips your hips, pressing himself up behind you, to them it seems like he's ensuring your safe exit. In reality, he's forcing you to feel the hard bulge desperate for relief in his pants. He kisses the top of your head and the base of your neck. "We're not done," he whispers, gently guiding you out of the restaurant towards his van, leaving your mind racing with thoughts of what he has in store for you.

#matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo fluff #smut #fluff

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lisired · 2 months

Text

keep on

pairing: johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, non-idol au, fwb!johnny, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction/alcoholicism, daddy issues, mommy issues, unprotexted sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy!)

summary: All things love and commitment are feared upon by you. You keep a tight crew and let few people in, cynical of other’s intentions and leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake. If you break other people’s hearts first, they can’t break yours. And yet, it was all too easy falling for Johnny, digging yourself into a depthless hole of love. But he is no exception to your heartache games.

word count: 13.6k

a/n: this was a pretty quick write. inspired by keep on by kehlani, garden (say it like dat) by sza and off the table by ariana grande featuring the weeknd. have fun reading <3 feedback is appreciated!

Through the blurry lenses of your eyes, love was a synonym for heartbreak.

It happened everyday. People gave people their all and in return, they received nothing but brutal agony. You had seen it happen and experienced the heartache firsthand.

Like when your father left your mother. And thus, the baby they had brought into this world together. It stung like nothing else to watch what became of your mother, drowning her sorrows in liquor. She was never the same.

Perhaps she had passed her bad habits down to you. The apple never falls far from the tree, they say.

Irene’s house was your deemed safe haven for the night. It was Friday and you were having a girl’s night out, but given the gruesome work week everyone had, no one wanted to truly go out.

You strutted inside and collapsed against her island, dropping your purse on the surface. “Get me drunk,” you sighed, tired beyond imagination. Not to mention the text message creeping in your mind.

Yeri giggled and slid you a glass. She had already been drinking, you could tell. She got all bubbly when tipsy. She reached for a bottle, and said, “Irene’s getting the good shit. She’ll be right back.”

They got the bottles and poured the glasses. When they were empty, you didn’t hesitate to fill them up again. There was no doubt that the next morning would bring you a terrible hangover, though you wanted to drink like there was no tomorrow.

You wanted to forget everything. Forget men. Forget the way that they all hurt you. Fuck that, you didn’t even want to remember what hurt was or meant.

They were nothing but trouble.

As the hours ticked by, less and less of your sullenness was masked by your inebriety. It became evident that there was something plaguing your mind. You sat slumped on the couch, bitter.

Irene sat beside you when the coast was clear. The girls had either passed out or gone back home if they were sober enough. But you were seated on her sofa, reeking of depression.

“We can always talk about it, you know,” Irene said softly. She grabbed your hand and let you rest your head on her lap. “It might make you feel better to open up.”

You shook your head and quipped dryly, “And ruin your perfect girl’s night? I thought the point was to de-stress.”

Irene gave you a faint smile and patted your head gently. She was one of the few people who knew the extent of trauma you dealt with. Your every secret was kept under lock and key but she protected them with her whole heart. Irene cared for you, that was undeniable. All things considered, she was like a mother to you. But you depended on no one but yourself and you hated seeming weak. Even if you were.

Besides, there was a time and a place, and this was neither. Ranting about your daddy issues wasn’t the point of tonight. It was to clear your head. Nothing good came out of recalling the irreversible damage your father had inflicted upon your broken family.

I’m sorry. Let me make things right, the text you received read. It made you feel a fusion of emotion - anger, sadness, confusion, disgust. What he did, upping and leaving, was unforgivable. It was a sin.

He broke your family. There was nothing he could do or say to make things right, to mend the shattered pieces. If he wanted to leave then he should have stayed gone. He had no right to try to come and intrude years later. He didn’t get to pick and choose when he could be in your life.

Irene was firm when she told you, “I’m here for you whenever you need me. I know you like to think that you don’t need anyone, that opening up makes you vulnerable, but being vulnerable is okay. I’m not going to attack you for being human and having the feelings you push away.”

Right in the heart - that was where her words always hit you. Irene had a habit of always being right, even if the truth hurt. Even if you desperately wanted her to be wrong. And yet, she never was.

But your lips were sealed. It was too much. Irene could try and soothe you, but even she couldn’t always break you. She sighed, but had another solution.

Irene lifted your head off of her lap and stood, rummaging for her keys. You stared at her with confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to Johnny’s. No buts. If there’s anyone that can get you to open up, it’s him, and the very last thing that you need to be in this state is alone.”

Your eyes flickered with shock. It wouldn’t be the first time that a drunk you had been dropped off at his doorstep - and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last - but you always woke up penitent the next day.

Johnny didn’t deserve that. He deserved better than you.

“But…”

“Ah, ah, ah - I said no ‘but’s,” Irene wielded her dismissive weapon of a finger. Her motherly instincts were kicking in and it meant that her decision was final. “Let’s go.”

With no other option, you followed Irene to her car with a slight stumble in your walk. Given they lived in the same neighborhood, you were at Johnny’s place in a blink. For some reason, you felt nervous. That was how you always felt around Johnny, even if you knew deep down that you had nothing to worry about.

He keeps on taking me in, you thought somberly. He’s nice to me. Even when I don’t deserve it. And I don’t know why.

If you were sober, you might have felt more guilty. Scratch that, you would have felt like nothing short of a villain. And maybe you were. Maybe you were the bad guy, the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

But that was because you couldn’t help but think everyone else was out to get you. Whatever much excuse you could bring yourself to give.

Irene walked you up to Johnny’s doorstep and rang the doorbell. It was late at night and Johnny liked his rest, but he was wide awake when he came to answer the door. And his entire expression changed when his eyes fell on you.

Johnny had seen you too many times too many in this state and just enough to know when you had spent the past few hours maintaining your friendship with alcohol. It was much more effort than you were putting into yours.

Irene squeaked in her soft voice, “Hi.”

He looked stone cold. It made your stomach twist, just a little. Although you knew Johnny was the warmest person there was. He stifled a sigh and said, “Come on, y/n.”

You shuffled right past him and through the doorway. By now it was routine, yet Johnny thought he would never get used to seeing you this way. He tried to help you, tried to get you to break out of your bad habits. And you were genuinely improving. For you to relapse out of the blue meant that you had been triggered.

When the coast was clear, Johnny shot Irene a glare, and snapped, “Why would you let this happen?”

Irene kept a straight face and took his harsh words in stride. If Johnny lashed out at her, she understood. It wasn’t easy dealing with you, loving you, and she could only imagine what it was like to be in love with you. “I know you’re stressed, but don’t antagonize me for her actions, Johnny. I can’t control what she does.”

“No, but you can enable her. And that’s exactly what you do,” Johnny barked.

“She’s one of my closest friends!” Irene shouted, tears brimming in her eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt her. All I want to do is help her. I’ve been trying. Trust me. I’ve been trying so hard, Johnny. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.”

Irene never cried. Much less in front of men. She was too busy being strong for everyone else to let herself be weak. She deserved to lash out, too. Being the calm friend, the responsible one, was hard. And she felt like she only got closer and closer to losing you everyday.

Johnny simmered down once he realized that she was right. All of this was unwarranted. He knew that doing this for you over and over again was only hurting the both of you, and everyone you loved, but he loved you too goddamn much to let you go.

It was frustrating. It made him angry - loving you. Being in love with you. Hearing his heart call out your name. And watching you use him just to dispose of him when you were done like he was some replaceable toy. What made him even more upset was that you were showing progress, and he thought that maybe something good could finally come out of it. Now he had to watch it all go down the drain.

Johnny rubbed his temple and sighed out, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Irene took a deep breath and exhaled. Johnny knew it wasn’t like her to lose her sense like that, but as long as you were hurting, so was she. “Just take care of her. Please. That’s all I ask.”

Johnny gave a nod of head and turned around. He was about to go inside and check up on you when he heard Irene call his name again.

“Please be patient with her. She’s trying.”

She loves you. Irene didn’t say it, but it was clear as day. Written all over her face, swimming in her dark eyes.

He nodded again, more reluctant this time, then pushed his door open and came inside the house. Glancing around, he didn’t spot you nearby. He called out your name, and when you responded, the sound of your voice led him upstairs to his bedroom.

You were now wearing one of his t-shirts, but it looked more like it was wearing you. Things had been like that since you were in high school. He towered over you with the skies above and yet he was filled of nothing but adoration. The memories of you wearing his clothes almost made him break into a smile. Almost.

Instead, Johnny sat down beside you and said, “Are you gonna tell me what happened now or in the morning?”

You frowned. People always wanted to talk, as if talking would make all your problems magically disappear. All you wanted to do was forget that they existed for as long as you could.

Without saying a word, you unlocked your phone, went to your messages, and handed it to him. Johnny gave you a confused glance, but read the text nonetheless. It was from an unsaved number, but the contents of the message gave away everything he needed to know. Clearly, it was from no one other than your father.

“Shit,” Johnny said, more to himself than anything else.

You pushed your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. “Yeah. Apparently he wants to make up for leaving his daughter and her mother when she was a toddler and driving the woman he used to love into substance abuse. Funny, right?”

Johnny sighed. No wonder you were beginning to sink back into your old ways. This was a trigger and you knew nothing else.

“How’d he even get your number?”

“My mother’s rash decisions or my cousin’s spite for me, who knows,” you shrugged, chuckling. Family reunions weren’t your favorite. At some point of becoming fed up with your family fiascos, you stopped attending. There was no way that you would see your evil cousin, your old-fashioned grandparents, aunts, and uncles, or even your mother. The only thing she and you shared was resent for your father, but you weren’t sure what she was capable of when drunk.

Johnny frowned. As much as it hurt to see you like this, he understood why you reacted the way you did. He was your best friend and your lover and knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew every bit of your trauma, down to the rawest detail - your childhood, all of the boys you once loved that weren’t him.

Part of him wished that you had given your heart to him first. He would have guarded it with a sword and fought off dragons for you. Instead, the boys you trusted handled it carelessly and shattered it into pieces. Now it was much harder to salvage what was left of it.

Johnny pulled you into his arms. He was angry. Angry at your father, angry at the world, even angry at you. But he wanted to be there for you, even if you took advantage of his kindness. When you felt his hands around you, you wept into his shoulder. He smoothed the palm of his hand against your back, and whispered soothingly into your ear, “It’s okay. Let it all out.”

You wept and wept, until you had no tears left to cry. God, you hated crying in front of other people. You hated being vulnerable, but it came naturally when you were with Johnny. Ever since you became friends in high school. And though Johnny never made a move to hurt you, he could have. That was the part you hated. Being vulnerable to someone meant trusting them not to hurt you the way everyone else had.

When you were done, you pulled away and noticed the damp patch on Johnny’s shirt. “Sorry,” you croaked.

“Shirts can dry,” he reminded, and lifted it above his head. “Let’s go to bed. You can talk to me in the morning when you’re sober.”

You nodded, then climbed into bed with him. To say that you hadn’t been in this position before would have been a lie, but you liked being so close to Johnny. He was your refuge from the world that liked to throw knives at you. And when you bled, he was always there to tend to your bloody scars. He made you feel safe, and that scared you more than anything.

Johnny kissed your forehead. “Goodnight.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. Safe didn’t even scratch the surface of how Johnny made you feel, but it would have to for now. You weren’t ready to unpack your feelings for Johnny. You weren’t ready to confront them.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Even in the dark, you saw Johnny smile. And beneath it he hid the storms of emotion induced by you that were killing him softly.

Between the pain of knowing Johnny was hurting because of you and the pain of your hangover, you couldn’t tell what hurt more.

It was a well-practiced routine. You woke up with a splitting headache, a bottle of water and Aspirin waiting for you on his bedside, and sometimes Johnny would be tucked into the sheets next to you. When he wasn’t, he was downstairs making breakfast.

And when you woke up, taking in your surroundings and realizing they were nothing like your bedroom, the regret settled in. You’re so fucking selfish, you chastised to yourself. Johnny was in love with you. That was positively the only reason he put up with your bullshit, but he deserved better.

And you were trying to give him better, to be the one that he needed. Given your habits of sleeping around to ignore the weight tugging at your chest when you thought of Johnny and drinking away your problems, you were trying to stop. Instead of drinking, you ranted to Irene or Johnny. Instead of finding someone to toy with for a night, you tried to be a good friend to Johnny.

It worked. Even the rest of your friends caught on to how much better and healthier you seemed. Then, your dad sent that stupid text and your whole world went crashing down. You didn’t know what to do. You were torn. Ripped and shredded to fucking pieces.

Maybe it was time Johnny accepted that he deserved someone better than you. For his own sake. You were a tainter that ruined everything you touched and rotted it to the core.

You popped the Aspirin and came downstairs. Johnny wasn’t there when you woke up, but judging from the delicious scent wafting through the air, he was downstairs cooking.

“Morning,” you whispered, sitting at the island.

Johnny shot you a glance over his shoulder and tended back to the stove. He was making pancakes. “If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”

You blushed and tried to hide it, asking coyly, “Momma’s recipe?”

“You know it.”

That made you crack a soft smile. He was right - you did know. Part of you envied the relationship Johnny had with his parents: strong and healthy. That would never be you. You didn’t remember the last time you spoke to your mother and your father was self-explanatory.

You shook your head, and hopefully the thought away. It was too early. Instead, you focused on Johnny. He was still half-naked, and you caught yourself gazing at the details of his bare back. Damn, did he look good.

Then, you watched him cook, subconsciously trailing off into your own head again. I don’t deserve him. He went above and beyond for you, from making you breakfast to even letting you inside in the first place. He held you and listened to your rants and tried his best to aid you, but you threw that all away. And yet, here he was.

When Johnny was finished cooking, he fixed you both plates and sat across from you. Apart from giving him your gratitude, the two of you ate in silence. After a while, he commented, “I thought you weren’t drinking anymore.”

You stared at your plate, refusing to look Johnny in his eyes. That would kill you - seeing the pain submerged in his eyes staring back in you. It was obvious that you didn’t want to have this conversation, preferring to leave words left unsaid. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.

Maybe you already knew and you were trying your hardest to ignore it.

“Old habits die hard,” you murmured, fiddling with your knife and fork.

Your relationship with alcohol was typical. Although you weren’t addicted, it was still unhealthy. For the most part, when you drank, it was to forget about the feelings and thoughts plaguing your heart and mind. Escapism was your go-to coping mechanism. You weren’t strong enough to confront your problems head-on.

“You can’t keep doing this.” We can’t keep doing this.

“I know.”

Johnny sighed. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip. Of course, Johnny could tell when there was something troubling you. There was no hiding from him. He was the only one capable of coaxing you of an answer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up here unannounced expecting you to take care of me.” Just like you always do.

Johnny was quick. “It wasn’t unannounced. Irene texted me.”

“That’s not the point and you know it,” you said, finally looking up at him. The expression he sported was grim. It hurt to see the way he looked at you, but you knew that you didn’t deserve his beautiful smile.

He sighed and glanced off, almost looking offended. “Then, what is your point?”

You shook your head. You weren’t ready to have this conversation and you doubted that you ever would be. “Forget it.”

“No. Talk to me. I just hate when you freeze me out,” Johnny urged swiftly. He hated it more than anything else. All he wanted was your love, but he was quick to realize that it was hard to thaw your frozen heart out.

Eyes drifting back to your plate, you shook your head and whispered, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Johnny softened up. For fucks sake, you were impossible, but he had too much sympathy for you. He understood why you acted the way you did, even if that didn’t ease the pain or validate your behavior. Most of all, he didn’t want you to follow your mother’s footsteps and become the person you swore you’d never be.

Last night hurt him, too. Patient was all he had ever been with you. He had been patient with you for at least ten years. He was so sick of waiting, but it was safe to say that no matter what, you would be his first and last love.

When the room got quiet, you spoke up again in a little voice, “He texted me Thursday night. I still haven’t responded. I don’t know what to do anymore, Johnny.”

“Do what you wanna do,” he told you, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s up to you. You don’t have to forgive him. You don’t even gotta respond. What he did was fucked up and he shouldn’t expect you to give in easily. But whatever you choose to do, your first priority should be letting go.”

Letting go. Easier said than done. All your life, letting go had never been your forte. Part of you was still scarred by your past lovers. Grudges ruined your life.

There were reasons why you came out this way. Of course, part of it stemmed from your childhood, though not everything and your identity was intricately layered.

In high school, you fell for Lee Jeno. He was the sweetest boy that you’d ever met - or at least you thought he was - and he almost instantly swept you off your feet. Jeno had all the girls swooning and the fact that he chose you made you feel a special type of bliss. Until you found him making out with a cheerleader in the locker room.

Then, in college, you decided to give romance a second try. It was Osaki Shotaro’s turn to break your heart. You remembered like it was yesterday and it was all so sudden. Out of the blue, Shotaro broke up with you and told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. He left you for another woman. You couldn’t imagine how many times he had been with her all while being with you. It made you sick to your stomach.

After that, you were scarred for life, scared shitless of love. Boys proved time and time again without fail that their only intention was to treat your fragile heart like dirt on the bottom of their shoes. They walked all over it, taking advantage of your blind love. Fed you lies and empty promises of forever.

That was why you kept your heart guarded and under lock and key. You intentionally kept your relationships short and discardable - no strings attached. You didn’t want to trust anyone else with your heart. They threw it in the middle of a busy highway and now it was in traffic.

Trust issues, they called it. Issues - that was your forte. And you had a variety. Trust issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues, commitment issues. Whatever the label slapped on them, they all controlled every moment of your life.

Johnny added, “I know that’s easier said than done, but promise me you’ll try. Will you?”

You nodded your head and fought back tears. Weak was the word you used to describe yourself in your head. It was far too easy to break you. “I’ll try, I promise. But I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I believe in you,” Johnny whispered, voice soft yet powerful. You were convinced that he had too much faith in you. Never had anyone believed in you this much. Never had anyone loved you the way that Johnny did and you didn’t know how to accept it.

Your heart was at constant war, unable to choose between two stances. Johnny wasn’t like the other men once in your life. Or maybe he was, yet hid it well. Maybe he was waiting for you to trust him to break your heart.

Both of you finished eating and changed the subject. It was a relief. Johnny hated making things awkward and you were grateful for that.

After a while, Johnny drove you back home. You hated leaving and Johnny hated watching you go, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t used to this cycle. You stood at your doorstep and said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

Johnny nodded. “Any time. When will I see you again?”

He liked seeing you. Just not after a long night of you disregarding your troubles with sex and alcohol.

“My schedule’s packed Monday through Friday, but maybe one of those nights,” you said. Often you found yourself making time for Johnny when there was none. And in return, he did the same. He showed you a good time and to your definition, that meant a night of relieving pent up stress. “If not, I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Okay,” Johnny nodded again. “Later, alligator.”

Before he could leave, you leaned on the tip of your toes and smashed your lips against his. Johnny seemed genuinely caught off-guard, but he wasted no time in kissing you back, stealing your every last breath like there was no tomorrow. You liked kissing Johnny. Apart from the warm feeling boiling in your chest whenever he pressed his lips to yours, he was just so damn good at making you feel like you were on a cloud.

You pulled back and caught your breath, smiling. “After a while, crocodile.”

Johnny grinned and walked back to his car.

You didn’t see Johnny again until the following weekend.

Not that you didn’t speak. You and Johnny were inseparable and spoke everyday if you could, via texting or phone calls when there was no chance of seeing each other in person. You told him that you needed time to yourself and he both respected and encouraged your decision.

You were busy thinking - an upside of Johnny’s influence. Most of the time you hated being in your head and avoided it at all costs. It was a dangerous place to be, but you were trying harder to not disappoint him once more.

In that time, your father sent you another message. He wanted to meet up with you and was unyielding. The ball was in your court. You could agree to hear him out or you could block his number and pretend it never happened, but it was no easy decision.

Saturday approached far too leisurely. Uneventful days of work and pondering led to the date of your friends’ betrothal party.

With a very Yuta-esque spin to it. The event was casual through and through. The dress code was loose and neither party held good relationships with their family, meaning most of the guests were close friends. It was a pool party and everyone would be in the backyard.

When you caught up to Yuta and Winwin, you didn’t hesitate to ask, “Okay, I’ll bite. Who did it? Who popped the question?”

Yuta fought a smirk and shrugged blithely. “Guess.”

“Winwin?”

Winwin shook his head. “Nope. Contrary to popular belief, Yuta’s quite the romantic. In his own way, of course. He even crouched down on one knee.”

It was somewhat believable. The Yuta from before he met Winwin wasn’t the Yuta that stood before you now. He had seen the light and became a man of all things love and cheesy.

Still, you teased, “No way. Can’t believe the main hoe of the town is settling down. What happened to being non-monogamous buddies?”

“Shit changes,” Yuta said, sighing blissfully as he wrapped an arm around Winwin. Then, he teased back, “Besides, we both know it was either me and Winwin or you and Johnny next in fate’s line.”

You blushed and spluttered, “Where’d you get that idea from?”

Both boys laughed like you had told the funniest joke. You narrowed your eyes, and Winwin answered for his future husband, “I know I’m the latest addition to the gang and all, but even I can see the sparks between you and Johnny. There’s obviously something there. I don’t know why you haven’t acted on it.”

Yuta exchanged knowing glances with you. He probably understood you the best out of everyone present. Your life’s weren’t carbon copy’s of each other, but he had lived the closest thing to your trauma. You weren’t ready. For a while, neither was he, but if he could let go and move on, maybe so you could you.

“There’s been sparks since motherfucking junior high. It’s always been a given that you two like each other and you’ll get together one day in the future. I couldn’t see it any other way,” Yuta said.

That should have made you feel happy, but all you could feel was dread and regret fused with yearning. All of your friends could see you together, but you weren’t sure if you could give him that. How selfish of you to be the one holding the two of you back.

You should have told him to move on and let you go. Instead, you avoided confrontation for as long as possible, craving every moment of his love and attention until the flame went out. You didn’t want to give him all of you yet, but you didn’t want to give him away either. Losing Johnny meant that he would never be yours. Maybe that was what it would take for you to open your eyes.

New guests caught Winwin’s eye and he tugged on his fiancé’s arm. “We’ll catch up with you later, we have to greet the other guests. Come on, Yuta.”

“You go ahead, babe. I’ll be right behind you in a minute,” Yuta dismissed. Winwin only nodded and went to greet their guests. Then, Yuta turned to you and quietly asked, “Everything okay between you and Johnny?”

“It’s your engagement party. Don’t worry about us,” you sighed, searching for the bar through the corners of your eyes.

Yuta was quick to retort, “And you’re my friends. I can worry about you whenever I want. Now, what’s up?”

You bit your lip. This wasn’t the kind of conversation you had in the middle of a betrothal party, but Yuta was adamant. You thought about the last time you had seen Johnny, how you felt when you kissed him. God, you missed the feeling of his lips on yours. Whenever Johnny was near your side you wished that you could hit pause on time. It was funny how the most beautiful moments in life were the most short-lived ones.

Your voice was small when you said, “I’m not a good person, Yuta.”

Yuta glanced at you curiously, eyes urging you on. “What you do?”

“I let Johnny down. A couple of weeks ago I told him that I’d try to break out of my habits. And I was actually doing better. I stopped resorting to drinking whenever something inconvenienced me and finding one-night stands to forget about Johnny.”

Yuta nodded along. “And then?”

“And then, my dad texted me and said he wanted to make things right between us, and I didn’t know what else to do. I got drunk last Friday night and Irene took me to Johnny’s house. I don’t remember much, but I know I winded up telling him what happened and crying on his shoulder,” you chuckled sourly. “He made me breakfast the next morning and we talked about it. And I feel bad because he doesn’t deserve none of this shit. He deserves someone better.”

He deserves someone that isn’t afraid to love him.

“Are you gonna be that person?” Yuta questioned, tone genuine.

I want to be. You exhaled. You didn’t know the answer to that.

You blinked, feeling tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know. The worst part is he has so much faith in me when I’m not even sure about myself. He should have walked away a long time ago, but he’s still here, waiting for me.”

“He’s ready when you are. But you aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Shaking your head, you frowned. You were far from.

“Be better. Do better,” Yuta said assertively. “I know that’s harder than it sounds, but you gotta try. Figure that shit out with your dad. What you choose to do is none of my business, but you have to heal and let it go so that you can be a better person for yourself and for Johnny.”

“That’s practically what Johnny said.”

“Great minds think alike,” Yuta grinned.

You snickered. “You got engaged and got all wise and shit, huh?”

“You know the tale. My dad was a drunk and treated me and my Mom like shit. It was up to me to decide if I wanted to grow into him, or if I wanted to be better,” he spoke monotonously.

But you were scared. You wanted to do things the right way, but you weren’t certain if you knew how. “What if I mess up?”

Yuta didn’t hesitate. “The point of mistakes is to learn. We all fuck up once or twice. That way, you know what not to do so you don’t fuck up the third time. It sucks, but that’s the way life works. Don’t make the same mistake thrice.”

He spoke the gospel. Where your family lacked, you were at least glad to have supportive friends. They were kind and you knew at the end of the day, they were people you could confide in. Maybe you would do it more often.

“I won’t,” you told Yuta. You sounded firm.

“Good,” he replied, and scanned the crowd for Winwin. “Now I gotta go with Winwin before he beats my ass in front of everybody. You go find Johnny, alright?”

You nodded. That you would. It had been too long since you had heard his voice and felt his touch and you were craving a taste. With that, Yuta left to join his husband-to-be and you scanned the crowd for your own lover.

In an instant your eyes landed on Johnny and you could spot him in any crowd. He was at the edge of the pool talking to Ten, who you caught casting Johnny a wink before walking away once he noticed you coming over.

When you got there, you crouched down and sat next to him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Johnny greeted, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist. “You look great.”

You blushed. This morning you had deliberately chosen the sexiest bikini set in your wardrobe. It raised the stakes and given how addicted Johnny was to your body, your chances at getting laid tonight. “You look the best.”

Johnny was also half-naked, obviously. And damn did he look gorgeous. You bit your lip. You were thoroughly convinced that the gods themselves had sculpted him. His body was to die for and you were offering yourself up.

Johnny joked, “I won’t argue with that.”

You snickered and nudged his side.

“How was your work week?”

Johnny groaned and you immediately knew the answer to that question. “I’m stressed and exhausted. I need an outlet for my pent up frustration.”

“Oh?” you stammered, mouth suddenly dry.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. His hand ran up and down your back and he leaned to your side, whispering, “Good thing I have you, right?”

There was a crushing weight on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Whenever Johnny was near you, the pressure came back, and it only got more intense when he did things like that. The effect he had on you was strong and he had you tingling with lust.

“Yeah,” you murmured back, trying hard to keep your cool and avoid appearing anything other than indifferent. But he could see right through you. “Good.”

“What about you?” Johnny pressed. “How was your week?”

“I don’t wanna think about it,” you grumbled.

Johnny was so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his body radiating your skin. Given the sunny weather, you were already hot, but something about this felt internal. It was like trying to breathe on the moon. Johnny parted his lips and suggested, “Kiss me until you forget about it.”

There was no need to tell you twice. You initiated the kiss, steering his lips to yours until they met with a clash. Johnny took control, arms still wrapped around you as he took passion to another level. It wasn’t long before you were sucking on each other’s tongues. You crawled into his lap for easier access, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Heat flared from your chest to Johnny’s and vice versa, spreading from bone to bone at the skin on skin contact. Whenever you made out, it was like you were floating in air or navigating through space with no gravity. His hands clung to your body and you were on a cloud, elevating and trying your hardest to refrain from grinding down on his crotch.

Johnny deepened the kiss, holding you tightly as possible and moving his mouth against yours fiercely. His heart was thundering against and threatening to leap out of the cage of his bare, burly chest. God, there was no greater pleasure than kissing you and feeling your warm body on his. But you both were putting all of your strength into resisting each other and it was too much. The feelings were overbearing.

When you both pulled away, you exhaled little breaths, hearts racing. You looked Johnny in his lustful eyes and heaved, “I like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You taste good as hell,” you flirted.

“Mm,” Johnny hummed, nodding his head. He pulled you square to his chest, face hovering hardly inches over yours. You gulped, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed. “What do I taste like?”

You pressed your palms to his naked chest, purring, “Strawberry champagne.”

“Yeah, you missed the bottle popping,” he chuckled. God knows you would have loved that.

Faking a pout, you replied, “Bummer. I was too busy trying on different bikinis.”

“You wear this all for me?” Johnny flirted, ever the intuitive man. Unbeknownst to you, he had been eyeing you from the moment you stepped onto the scene. And the second he laid eyes on you in your bright red bikini, he knew that he had to have his way with you.

“Especially for you. I know blue’s your favorite color, but red suits me better.”

“You make short work of supermodels in anything you wear,” Johnny growled. He was looking at you from head to toe, as if he were going to swallow you whole.

“You’re just saying that because you wanna have sex with me.”

Johnny wasted no time in shutting you down. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Sex would be a nice bonus, though.”

You laughed.

“Come swim with me,” Johnny said, gently sitting you back on the edge of the pool before coming to his feet.

You hesitated. “Won’t Yuta be upset we ditched him at his engagement party?”

“That wasn’t a question,” Johnny added, lowering his voice. Which definitely did unspeakable things to you. “And trust me - Yuta doesn’t give a flying fuck as long as we join in when it’s time to gather around and shit.”

That was true. It didn’t mean Yuta had unsophisticated tastes, he simply just didn’t care for rules and formalities - untraditional by any means. Winwin was the opposite. Conventional to a fault, he was a man of decorum and the party was a clear mix of both of their personalities. Somehow, they both made it work.

Ignore the pace of your heartbeat, you muttered, “Okay,” and sunk into the pool.

Johnny followed suit with a tiny splash, swimming to your side. Being in the water felt good, all things considered. It was cold and gave your brain - and body - a quick refresh.

“You know, this reminds me of high school,” he started, pensive. “When Joy threw that pool party on the first night of summer break, and Jaehyun pushed you into the pool as a joke.”

The memory made you roll your eyes. In high school you were nothing if not a bunch of stupid teenagers. “He’s lucky I didn’t let myself drown and have my Mom sue him for everything he’s worth. Now that I think about it, I should have. Every penny to his name. Mommy and Daddy Jung would have killed him.”

Johnny chuckled. “Oh for sure. He would have been taking the city bus instead of high-end luxury cars and gotten a job at the nearest McDonald’s like the rest of us.”

“Damn nepo baby,” you shook your head and sighed. “Gotta love him, though.”

“To be born into wealth,” Johnny sighed dramatically.

You giggled.

Moments later, a thought passed your mind. A memory - the beautiful kind. You fought a smile and asked, “You know what else happened at that party?”

Johnny gave you a long, hard cook. It was practically inscrutable and noncommittal. If he had any idea what you were referring to, the only thing that gave it away was the slight smile on his face for a mere fraction of a second.

Of course, he knew. How could he forget? It was easily one of the best moments of his life, made even better because it was spent underneath the moonlight with you.

He shrugged, feigning oblivion. “What happened?”

“We made out for the first time,” you reminded, voice little. “We were each other’s first kiss.”

The memory was anything but vague. The both of you were a little drunk, and somehow found yourselves in each other’s embrace. And then, in each other’s mouths. For someone who had never made out with anyone before, then-Johnny kissed you like royalty. With every intention to conquer your mind, heart, and body.

In that sense, you guessed he had been successful. Johnny lived rent-free in your mind and had built a little home both there and in your heart, with enough room for the both of you. Not to mention your body. You were counting down the seconds until you could get him in the sheets right now. In your attempts to keep him out, you had simultaneously been giving him access to the most vulnerable parts of you.

To say nothing of himself. Johnny wished he could turn back time. Part of him wished that he could undo meeting you and falling in love with you, because he was beginning to lose faith in the two of you. The other part of him loved you too goddamn much to even begin to imagine a world without you in it. It wouldn’t be worth living.

“I remember,” Johnny assured, finally letting himself smile. He couldn’t control it. “Wanna know what you tasted like?”

You squinted. “What?”

“Guess.”

You rolled your eyes and deadpanned, “Your mother’s chocolate chip cookies.”

Johnny’s laugh was mocking. “You wish.”

Whining, you said, “Tell me! I don’t remember.”

He gave in - though because he wanted to and not because you told him to - and replied, “Tequila.”

“The cheap kind?”

“Nope. I’m sure Jaehyun stole that from Mommy and Daddy Jung’s liquor stash,” he quipped.

You snickered. It was a relief that he was good at directing conversation. For a moment, you thought that it was going south. God knows the past was a sensitive subject.

Although he said nothing, Johnny couldn’t help but think about it. For years, he had been in love with you. He remembered meeting you like it was yesterday - you were the new kid in school and Johnny was the one kind enough to be your friend. He showed you around, ate lunch with you, studied with you, and introduced you to his friend group. In no time, you were best friends.

You were his first kiss. Johnny knew he wanted you that night. When he pressed his lips to yours and felt his body elevating into the clouds above, he knew.

Eventually you became a series of each other’s firsts. First kisses, first times, first loves. You had been vulnerable to each other in ways that you hadn’t with anyone else.

And you, you were multifaceted. Johnny had seen the rawest sides of you and fell hard and deep in love with each one - the beautiful and the ugly. All of those things made you fall for Johnny, too, but you noticed it a little later than he did, once it was too late. Which hindered his progress.

By the time you realized you were in love with Johnny, you had already given your heart to the wrong people. That was why you couldn’t comprehend how someone would ever be able to offer you their love, and mean it. That was why you trusted no one.

Forget being your first. Johnny wanted to be your last and as the clock ticked, his chances felt slimmer and slimmer.

You stared at his lips, not even attempting to hide the direction your eyes were searching. “I want strawberry champagne.”

Johnny tilted his head. He had x-ray vision when it came down to your intentions, though this game he wouldn’t mind playing along with. “Do you?”

When you nodded, Johnny took the bait and leaned in to kiss you. It was like magic. Every time felt as surreal as the first one. You just couldn’t believe that you were blessed enough to have him at your fingertips.

Johnny was the same. I love her. It was old news to almost everyone, though the realization hit Johnny the same way it had that night when he first tasted you. When he realized that you were the one and only love of his life.

Sucking on Johnny’s tongue and moaning into his mouth, soaking in all his little sounds was all you wanted to do. Maybe this was why Yuta said you and Johnny would be next in fate’s line. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t dreamt of having your daddy walk you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Though if there was anything that you had learned, it was that fate was an evil lady and she had it out for you.

Johnny soon backed off. He hadn’t had his fill, but you were driving him crazy. And as much as he wanted to be a good friend to Yuta, the urge to drag you away for a fuck was growing stronger. He warned in a low tone, “We’ll miss the rest of the party if you keep kissing me.”

“What’s so bad about that?” you purred, leaning closer to his face. You could feel each other’s breath on your skin. “We can have a party of our own.”

To your credit, you were dangerously skilled at tempting Johnny. It made him feel bad to think that you practically already were having a party of your own. Both of you were surrounded by people, but to him, it felt like there was no one else around you. The sound of your voice and laughter had been drowning out the sound of the presence of people.

With the last of his restraint and self-control, he said, “Mm, that’s tempting. But no. Be a good girl and be patient.”

Immediately, you frowned, but didn’t dare disobey. Johnny would give you what you wanted sooner or later because you knew that he wanted you, too. And though you had your flaws, you weren’t terrible enough to dip in the middle of your friend’s betrothal party.

“Fine,” you said exasperatedly, peeling yourself off of him. “But you better make it up to me later.”

Johnny gave you one last kiss to placate you a little, then whispered softly in your ear, “Don’t I always?”

That he did.

For the better half of the evening, both of you decided to interact with other people, including the ones being celebrated. Most of the time you and Johnny were incapable of resisting each other, and with the thoughts plaguing your minds, there was no way on earth that you would survive side to side without breaking your agreement.

You had a fun time, but you were more than relieved when Winwin announced that he and Yuta wanted some alone time. Everyone said their goodbyes and you raced to Johnny’s side.

“My place or yours?”

“Mine’s closer. Meet you there?” Johnny asked, though he already knew you would. You were practically careening to your car the moment he got the words out.

“Meet you there!”

Both of you arrived in turn, with you slightly ahead of him. You didn’t even wait for him to pull into the driveway before you were rummaging through your purse for the extra key Johnny had bestowed upon you long ago.

It was game over once he stepped out of his car and you were only alone for a split second before he entered, wasting no time in backing you against a wall and stealing a kiss. Johnny always kissed you like it was the last time he would ever get the chance. There was something eager in the way that his mouth moved against yours. It was heated, unchaste. He kissed you so hard that it was impossible to keep up with his pace.

“Someone’s desperate,” you teased through shallow breaths. Johnny nibbled at your ear and you sighed, pitching your head back against the plaster.

He ribbed, breath tickling your neck, “You’d oughta know a thing or two about being desperate. Seeing as you got to my house before me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Under any other circumstances, Johnny would have teased you and made you wait before he kissed you again. Though seeing as he had been waiting too goddamn long for this moment, all he could do was cave.

Goddamn, his lips were soft. In contrast to the rough manner he handled your body. Everything was escalating too quickly and you were being dug into the wall by the weight of his body. There was so much tension in the room that you could hardly even breathe through it.

Johnny nudged his knee between your thighs and stuck his hand down your bottoms, the other roaming your body. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Do something about it,” you whined.

Johnny sneered. Part of him was half-tempted to tease the living hell out of you and see how much you could take. The other was losing hold of his heavy load of patience much more quickly than he would have liked.

“Wanna fuck in the shower to wash off the chlorine? Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Just don’t let me fall.”

He smiled. “I would never.”

Before you knew it, he was lifting you up in his arms like you weighed nothing. You squealed when you felt yourself being hauled into the air, locking your legs around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. It felt too right being in his hold. As if it was supposed to be this way.

Maybe it was.

Johnny carried you to his bedroom and you clung to his chest for dear life. While he went in the bathroom to run the shower, you began to quickly peel off your clothes. You were on the threshold of insanity, bursting at the seams with lust.

When the water was hot, Johnny stepped into the shower and you followed suit. As soon as your feet hit the non-skid shower mat Johnny shoved you against the wall, and the noise you made was eaten by the force of his lips. Your palms rose to his wet chest and his mouth fell from yours to your collarbone, soft and plush against your skin.

He simply couldn’t stay away. He spread your thighs apart and slipped one of hands back between them, this time moving them inside of you. Much to your pleasure. “Johnny,” you whimpered, breathless.

The sound of your lips parting to emit his name was like music to his ears and a melody stuck in his head. Thoughts of you underneath him, crying out his name whilst taking his size kept him up late at night, wishing he could rewind time to feel you back in his arms again. Where you belonged. It took every bit of willpower he had not to beg you to stay.

“Think you’re ready for me?” Johnny asked, leering at you with the darkest gaze that made your stomach churn.

You nodded. Johnny was big, that was undeniable, but you had taken every inch of his ungodly combination of length and girth countless times before like a champ. It was almost nothing to you.

He removed his fingers from your cunt and before you got the chance to whine from the emptiness, your lips were widening to sigh at the feeling of his bare cock brushing against your folds. Every second felt like minutes and your patience was wearing more and more thin. You needed him and you needed him right now.

Then, Johnny finally pushed inside, taking his sweet time to fill you. You swallowed him in with ease, simultaneously sucking in the deepest breath you could take. His eyes fell on your chest, water trickling down the swell of your breasts as you inhaled and exhaled.

Maybe taking him wasn’t like nothing. You felt not an ounce of pain, but the pleasure of having him fill you to the uttermost was overwhelming. The stretch meant something.

The moment the head of his girth prodded your entrance Johnny had already felt you pulsing tightly around him and you only kept clenching the deeper he pushed inside. You raced to anchor yourself, clawing at his shoulders while he pushed you firmer against the wall and he caged you between his big arms.

Johnny kissed your neck, then growled, “So tight for me.”

“All for you,” you stammered through thick breaths. It was too hot to breathe. The water burned your skins and Johnny made you erupt in flames all over.

Johnny grinned smugly.

Through hooded eyes, you soaked in the sight of water cascading down his neck - where his muscles flexed - and chest. For the better half of your life, Johnny had been a presence, but you would never get used to how gorgeous he was. His beauty was so ethereal to the point that it felt forbidden to be able to touch him like this. He was sent from the heavens above, both a blessing and a curse to you and your body.

The chains of restraint that bounded him snapped and Johnny latched his mouth to your nipple, meriting an automatic sigh of pleasure from your lips. With how close he was, you wondered if he could feel the thud of your heartbeat. It was racing inside your chest, the feelings you had for him raining hail and begging for freedom. Your heart was bursting at the seams with your love for Johnny and it pleaded desperately for you to unlock its door.

“You’re so hot,” Johnny whispered, keeping himself occupied with your body. Your brain was going into autopilot.

From Johnny’s perspective, your body was a treasure, and he knew its map by heart. All of your weaknesses were on display in his mind and he could choose whichever one he wanted to use to his advantage. He knew what felt good and what felt earth-shattering, and judging from the way you throttled his cock, this was the latter.

Neither you or Johnny talked too much during sex. It was difficult to speak when you were being fucked divested of every little thought you possessed and your mouth was too busy producing other noises.

And all Johnny hoped was that his body could say everything that words could not.

He couldn’t think of anyone else when he was with you, and when you were with someone else, you were still thinking of Johnny. Given the amount of nights you had spent searching for one-night stands you were no stranger to sex, but Johnny made it feel different. The emotions were stronger and so was the yearning. The two of you fucked each other like you had never wanted anything so badly before in your lives.

Johnny struck you somewhere deep and you rasped, “Fuck, baby.”

Fuck, he felt good. Even though you were prone to running away, there was no doubt that you would find yourself coming back for more. Johnny was your home and your heart would always drag you back to him. He owned your body. Whatever he desired to do with you - to you - you would let him. At the end of the day, you were his. Whether he knew it and you accepted it or not.

It wasn’t a choice. It was a feeling.

Looking at the dazed expression on your face gave him deja vu. The first time Johnny had sex with you, he genuinely thought that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was nervous, but if anything, dedicated. He vowed to himself that he would learn the ways of your body and put your pleasure before his. Which he did.

It was college, months before you met your soon-to-be ex, and you were freshmen. Giving your virginity to one another was one of the most unsurprising things that you two had ever done. At least back then, you were thick as thieves and did everything together. Who better to give it to than the one you could always bet on?

He still remembered that night like it was yesterday. All of your friends were going to a party, but you snuck inside his dorm while his roommates were away. One thing led to another and soon you were writhing beneath him, calling out his name like it was the only word you knew.

His feelings for you only heightened.

Johnny could still remember how heartbroken he was when you got with another man again - and how angry he was when he broke your heart just like the last guy. The emotions were so prominent that he could still feel them now. How long would it take you to realize that the man meant for you was already right by your side?

Even if he wasn’t the perfect match for you, Johnny knew deep down that he could love you better, because he already had without even needing to be in a relationship with you. Maybe if those boys had treated you right, then he could have came to peace with the fact that fate wasn’t on his side and you weren’t meant to be. But watching you cry after other men treated you like nothing only fed his flame.

“You close, baby?” Johnny asked, aiming to take you over the edge. His number one goal was to drive you out of your mind.

You could only nod, willing yourself not to speak. The words that would have left your mouth if you did were unimaginable.

Johnny fucked you even harder, chasing relentlessly for your orgasms. And you were just as - if not more - eager. He fought a complacent simper as he admired the way you were maneuvering your hips against his, whimpering with every touch.

The look on his face made you run your tongue over your dry lips. Barely were you resisting the urge to smash your lips against his. That look alone made you want to milk him dry of everything he was worth.

As badly as you wanted to savor every last moment, you could feel it in your bones that your orgasm was approaching. Listening to the noises resounding throughout the bathroom was what finished you - the sounds of your moans and Johnny’s hips slapping into yours with every thrust drowning out that of the shower pouring down on you both. You convulsed with release, gripping Johnny’s biceps for dear life as you met your orgasm with a high-pitched cry of his name.

Johnny wasn’t too far behind you. He couldn’t even grunt at the feeling of your nails digging into his flesh - it was outweighed by that of the pleasure of you clenching tightly around him with orgasm. It triggered his own, and he held you bruisingly tight as he spilled inside you with the lowest groan he could muster.

“You okay?” Johnny asked the moment you both were in the clear to speak.

You nodded weakly. “Perfect.”

Johnny smiled.

The two of you actually showered once you had caught your breaths, occasionally interrupting the other with a kiss. When you got out of the shower and re-dressed, Johnny pinned you to his bedroom wall and enveloped your lips in the biggest kiss yet. It was noticeably different from the other kisses that you had shared as of late. They were lustful and impatient. This was slow and steady - like he wanted nothing more than to savor the very taste of you.

He pulled away and whispered adoringly, “I love you.”

Your brain immediately went into overdrive. Given that you were childhood best friends, of course you and Johnny had said that you’d loved each other before. That was indubitable and not to be questioned. But this was different. This was in the context of a post-sex I love you.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Johnny bristled. “I do mean it. I love you.”

Sighing, you walked off to his bed. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

He stared at you incredulously, and reminded, “I’m not them.”

It was obvious who them was. Your past lovers. The ones that had left you so heartbroken that you could no longer let anyone inside your glass heart.

You shook your head, voice small when you replied, “I don’t know that.”

Johnny was visibly offended and upset. “How can you say that?”

“I don’t want to fight, John,” you said, exhaling loudly. This had escalated far too quickly and everything was heading in the wrong direction. For as long as you could, you wanted to steer clear of this course. But deep down, you knew that it had been inevitable.

He ignored you, walking closer to you and pestering, “I need answers. Do you really think I don’t love you?”

“Johnny…”

He didn’t relent. “Answer me.”

Frustrated, you shouted, “I don’t know what to think, Johnny! I’m scared to trust people - you know this!”

“And do you think I deserve to be punished for that?” Johnny snapped, white-hot rage seeping through and his restraints falling loose. “You and I both know I’m not just ‘people.’ We’ve known each other longer than you knew them. I’ve been here with you, for you, for a goddamn eternity. When have I ever let you down, huh? Tell me!”

His tone made you flinch and you were given whiplash. Johnny rarely got upset and never did he ever yell at your face, even if you sometimes deserved it. He was patient with you. For him to finally snap meant that you had wounded him deeply.

“I’m scared,” you croaked, teary-eyed.

“Right, you’re scared,” Johnny groused, turning around and heaving a thick breath. “Forget it.”

Pain burned through your chest in flares much like the anger spreading like wildfire throughout Johnny’s. Goddamn, this hurt. Was love supposed to be so complicated? Was love supposed to ache like this?

It hurt so good to love Johnny.

You stood up and shook your head. “No,” you told him, demanding, “Get it off your chest. Everything you want to say to me - say it right damn now!”

It wasn’t for you. No, you knew that the following words to come out of his mouth were going to scar you indefinitely. It was for Johnny. You knew that he had been holding all of this back for a long time and now this was his chance to erupt his heart volcano.

Johnny stormed right back over and said, “You want me to be honest?”

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. He deserved it. You deserve it. You treat him like shit.

“Fine. I’ll be honest,” he seethed. You gulped, bracing yourself for his words to come. “You wanna know something? You’re so fucking selfish. You’ve been breaking my heart just because you’re trying not to get yours broken.”

That was true. You had been sacrificing his feelings in an effort to preserve yours and it was a futile plan - Johnny had already crawled his way inside your heart, yet you were still trying to keep him out.

“You have too much pride to show people your scars and that’s why every time I get closer, you push me away. Because all you know how to do is run like a coward. That’s what you’ve resorted to your whole life because you don’t know any better. But you can’t hide.”

You bobbed your head, willing yourself not to speak. Both of you needed this.

Johnny’s voice got lower as he said, “You think you can hide, but you can’t. You can’t fucking drink all your problems away. You can’t fuck them away, either. You can’t keep running to me and using me to dry your goddamn tears every time you realize all your problems are still there!”

“Johnny…” you called out through tears. As true as his words were, they stung. And guilt was eating at you from the inside.

“No. You fucking asked for this shit,” Johnny snapped, scowling. “I’ve been nice to you and patient with you, but all you do is take me for granted. And it hurt when you said you didn’t think I loved you, because I could have stopped putting up with your bullshit and cut you off a long time ago - but I didn’t. You know why? Because I fucking love you. And walking away would hurt as much as it does to stay.”

You told him softly, “I love you, Johnny.”

“Do you love me enough to stay?”

The room got silent. Did you? You knew that you wanted to, but damn was it hard. You were just so goddamn scared of hurt and betrayal. You had been left before and it broke you. It shredded you to the tiniest of pieces. But Johnny made you feel complete and whole again.

“Answer me. So I know if it’s time we move on,” Johnny commanded, impatient. “Am I just some booty call to you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what the hell are you saying?”

“That I need you!” you screamed, the tension getting to your head - and your heart. It was too goddamn much. “I can’t live without you, Johnny. I can’t. I won’t. I’m scared because I don’t want to lose what we have. Losing you would be like losing the other half of me.”

Johnny got in your face again, but instead of yelling at you, he smashed his lips against yours. Just like that, you were relieved of the burden of all your fears and worries. He absorbed them and kept them somewhere safe, just like he did with all of your other secrets.

He kissed you with an emotion that was unmistakable - love. So much love. Maybe you had been blind to it before, but you could see it all clearly now.

Johnny was in love with you. And you were in love with Johnny.

“You’ll never, ever lose me,” Johnny swore in your ear once he detached himself from your mouth. He wiped at your tears with his thumb. “I promise. You’ve got me for life, alright?”

With a couple nods of your head, you crashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, welcoming your touch. This was where you were meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized after a couple of moments. It didn’t undo the pain you had been inflicting upon him for years, but it was a starting point for something better.

Johnny held you closer and kissed your forehead, then whispered softly, “I forgive you.”

He shouldn’t have, though you were grateful that he did. If it weren’t for his tenderheartedness, you weren’t sure what you would do.

“Let me be yours,” you sang.

It was tempting. You were offering him everything he had ever wanted on a silver platter. Granted, it didn’t take much to satisfy him - all he wanted was you. But as much as he wanted you, he wanted the most authentic version of you.

“Not yet,” Johnny said. You gawked, but he finished before you could interject, “I want to be in a relationship with you, but you need to take care of yourself first. Start tackling your problems. For starters, figure out what you’re going to do about your dad. Okay?”

You exhaled a long breath, but eventually nodded. “Okay.”

Johnny fought a content smile. “I’ll support whatever decision you choose to make,” he assured, pulling you closer to his chest. Then, he glanced down and asked, “Now - are you gonna run away or are you gonna stay the night?”

“I’m going to confront my fears and stay with you,” you whispered, refusing to separate yourself from the warmth of his body. You weren’t sure how you had done it before in the past. Tonight had given you an epiphany.

“Atta girl,” Johnny praised and led you to his bed. You flopped to his side, snuggling to his chest. “I have to go to work in the morning. Promise me I’ll wake up to your pretty face for motivation.”

You giggled, your laughter ringing through his mind beautifully. “I’ll be there. I promise, baby.”

Johnny was beaming from ear to ear. God, you loved seeing him like this. Happy. And he was happy because of you.

He couldn’t wait to wake up beside you in the morning.

Given their engagement, Yuta and Winwin were to have plenty of parties and the betrothal party was only one of many. Today marked the day of the housewarming party.

Their engagement meant that their relationship had developed into something serious. With marriage rapidly approaching, they were certain that they wanted to spend every moment of their lives together. And thus, they decided to move in with each other.

Which was how their new home came to be.

Guests spread out and filled the house to its brim, most of the ones you didn’t recognize being associates of Sicheng. After a couple of hours, you got off of your feet and went to rest in the living room.

And when you saw two very familiar men approaching you, you knew that you would be doing anything but resting.

“Oh no.”

Jaehyun and Ten sang in harmony, “Oh, yes.”

Watching the two of them take seats beside you, you could only wonder what in tarnation they were up to. Jaehyun and Ten were individual wildfires all by themselves, so you weren’t sure if you were ready to face the aftermath of combining the pair. Part of you was certain something would blow up in flames.

Narrowing your eyes, you asked cautiously, “What do you two bloodthirsty leeches want?”

“Chill, babe. We just wanted to hang with our favorite friend,” Jaehyun said. Given the untamed smile on his face, you highly doubted that. Jeong Jaehyun was nothing if not sheer trouble. And his partner in crime, too.

Ten nodded his head in confirmation. “Right,” he smirked, then pointed to the cup beside you. “What’s that - Bacardi?”

“Ha, ha,” you responded, deadpan. “No, bitch. It’s water. Contrary to an oddly popular belief, I’m not an alcoholic.”

Jaehyun interjected, “Babe, I can’t tell the difference between you and an alcoholic. That’s a problem.”

“What he said. I can hear your liver screaming ‘Ten, help me. Help me. Please…’”

You snapped, “Did you guys just come over here to terrorize me or is there something meaningful you have to say?”

Jaehyun leaned and asked quietly, like he was telling you a top-notch secret, “It’s because of Johnny, right?”

You spluttered, “What?”

He smiled, adding, “Don’t worry - you can tell me. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, enough of the bullshit. Fess up,” Ten groaned in your other ear. Meanwhile you were thinking of ways to remove yourself from the Jaehyun-Ten you were between. “Something happened between you and Johnny. Something good.”

It wasn’t a question. He was saying that something happened and he knew it - he just didn’t know what. Yet.

You bit your lip. “Why do you say that?”

“Johnny’s been doing better lately, too. He’s been smiling more and in a better mood recently,” Ten replied, a spark of something raw and tender in his voice. “I like seeing him this way. It feels like I got the old Johnny back.”

Jaehyun nodded, all of the signs of jokes and games gone from his eyes. His expression was nothing short of soulful. “Me, too. There’s clearly been a shift. And whatever happened between you two, I hope it doesn’t shift back. He’s in a good place right now and so are you.”

Johnny had been happier lately. Everywhere he went he stood like a tall beam of light, radiating energy and warmth. And you two technically weren’t even together yet.

There was no way in hell that you would mess that up again. True to your promise to Yuta, you wouldn’t make the same mistake thrice. You had learned from your wrongdoings and decided that you were going to treat Johnny’s heart the same way you wanted others to treat yours. With caution and hypervigilance.

He deserved to be loved. Every bit of him. And you loved him to pieces.

“I won’t mess it up,” you assured them, confident. You knew what you wanted. And though you were still scared to go after it, you were willing to face your fears for Johnny. “I swear.”

Ten and Jaehyun smiled contentedly and replied in sync, “Good.”

Across the house, Johnny was having a similar conversation with your friends. And you were none the wiser.

“Hey, tough guy!” Yeri called out, grabbing Johnny’s attention. If it weren’t for the fact that she had bestowed the nickname upon him ages ago and was hellbent on sticking to her guns, he would have kept walking. She folded her arms across her chest and said, “Let’s talk.”

Johnny flickered his eyes between Yeri and the woman beside her - Irene - and a terrible feeling settled in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted lightheartedly, “I feel unsafe.”

Both women responded in unison, “Good.”

He brought his plastic cup from his lips, then asked, “What’s this about?”

“You and y/n,” Irene said, eyeing him suspiciously.

Yeri wasted no time. “Are you two dating?”

On cue, Johnny’s heart seemed to boom at the mere thought of being in a relationship with you. As much as he wanted to make you his that night and as terribly as he fought against his every irrational decision, it wasn’t convenient timing. He wanted you to heal before anything.

Johnny feigned indifference, replying honestly, “No, we’re not. Why?”

Irene sat on the couch nearby, glancing off pensively. “She’s been… better again. She told us that she wouldn’t be drinking again for a while and she’s been opening up to me more and I’m proud of her. I just thought that it might’ve had something to do with you. You’re one of the biggest influences in her life, you know?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nodded. “I know.”

“And considering you haven’t given me the side eye yet, I think you’ve been happier, too.”

Johnny chuckled.

Then, Yeri cut to the chase and warned aggressively, “Take care of her, Johnny. I trust you, but you know how she can get. And if you break her heart, so help me I will…”

Irene reached for her friend’s hand and quickly interjected, “Yeri, I think they’re gonna be okay.”

Gladly, Johnny thought so, too. Things were far from perfect, though they were still going well and he was simply content to see that you were giving the two of you a try. He was tired of giving more than he was receiving and he had faith that those days were coming to an end.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Johnny repeated, assuringly. He believed it. He believed in you and him together. “But I appreciate all of your concern.”

Arms still folded and eyes still narrowed, Yeri eased up and nodded. Content, she walked off.

Irene rose from the chair and gazed up at Johnny, whispering softly, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient with her,” she replied, full of gratitude. Then - in an even tinier voice - she added, “And for doing what I couldn’t have done.”

Johnny said with no hesitation, “I would do anything for her.”

“I know. You’re strong.”

“So are you.”

Irene smiled. With that, she went to go meet back up with the rest of the girls.

Over the course of the following couple of weeks, you had been putting your all into becoming a better person. You kept to your word, steering clear of alcoholic beverages - more especially in mentally trying times - and you vented to your friends whenever necessary. They didn’t mind one bit. Anything was better than your typical methods of extreme self-destruction.

The passionless hook-ups came to an end, too. Johnny and you had never been exclusive, and though you weren’t yet together, it was impossible to do as much as imagine yourself with another person. Johnny’s touch was the only one that you wanted to feel on your body. You wanted to feel the way he poured his heart out to you whenever you had sex.

You wanted love. You wanted passion and fondness and intimacy.

And Johnny delivered.

After a while, you came to a decision about your father. One day, you chose to answer. In those that followed, you stalled to the best of your ability, still indecisively wavering over the option to meet him in person.

But the conversations, both through text and over the phone, swayed you. It broke you to hear his voice and vice versa. Talking to him for the first time in decades was life-changing.

That was how you ended up outside of a restaurant, fast forward some weeks later.

Johnny helped you out of his car, walking you to the front of the building. Your fingers were interwoven, and he let you clutch his hand when you felt nervous. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded. Though you were sure, you were anxious. And you were grateful that he had so much power over you, to the point that his mere touch made you feel at ease again.

“I’m sure,” you said, clinging close to him.

“Breathe, baby,” Johnny whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck. “I’ll be right outside waiting for you. Okay?”

Waiting for you. What would you do without him?

Instead of replying, you whirled around and stood on your tiptoes, kissing his lips. Johnny kissed you back with fervor, holding you like you would fall if he were to let you go.

Through your heavy breaths, both nerve-induced and from the breathlessness of making out with him, you confessed gently, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Johnny replied without hesitation. It was a no-brainer. He loved you. So goddamn much. And that was exactly what you needed to hear. “Now go meet your old man.”

That was the last push you needed. You were standing on the threshold of a self-healing journey and that was what made you swing the gates open.

You approached the table your dad reserved. It must have been miles away, because when you got there, you couldn’t breathe.

Your father looked at you, face full of sincere emotion. He stared at you with so much awe, incredulous through and through. Tears threatened to fall from both of your eyes.

You croaked thickly, “Dad.”

“Princess,” he heaved back.

His arms were wide open and you raced in, desperate. The tears began to rain. You couldn’t even remember the last time that your father had held you. This is what you had been missing. During all those heartbreaking times, this is what you needed most.

Soon, he began to apologize profusely, voice bursting with shame and regret. There was absolutely no satisfactory explanation that he could offer you - you just needed to know that although he couldn’t take it back, he would do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness.

And once you reached closure, you were talking as if the past had never happened and he had always been there.

Your father looked at you and sighed - contentedly. He shook his head, all sullen when he stated, “You’re a woman now.”

You quipped, “And you’re an old man.”

Your father chuckled. He was adapting to your humor very quickly. Perhaps there was a reason why.

After a moment, he asked curiously, “That boy outside your boyfriend?”

“His name’s Johnny,” you smiled, teary-eyed, then confessed, “You should meet him some day.”

“Do you love him?”

There was not a bout of reluctance. “So much.”

“Then, I will.”

You beamed.

There was no holding you back, no reason not to say it proudly anymore. Johnny was yours and you were his. His heart would always belong to you and yours to him. That was the way it was supposed to be. Meant to be.

And some day, your Dad would be walking you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

#johnny smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny suh x reader #nct imagines #johnny imagines #johnny suh smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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gorejo · 9 months

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do you think forbes gojo would bring up their breakup to the reader in every once in a while like “youre just gonna eat the last bite of that? how heartless, at this point who knows if you’ll break up with me again” or would he completely never mention it again :’)

EASY TO LOVE - GOJO SATORU, forbes30!au

contents: wc 800, fluff. pet names (babe, love, sweetheart). refers to a recent fic that I wrote, but I guess it can stand on its own, as well ◡̈ all you forbes30!gojo lovers, i hope you enjoy !! -> here's the link to forbes30!gojo

"babe, let's go get ready," Gojo pleaded, doing his absolute best for you to fold — you always did, if he just pressed a little more.

"nope" but today, you were adamant — you had to.

"But sweetheart, our bed is waiting for us," weaving his arms around your waist to coax you to his room, "i promise, i'll take you to work earlier than anyone in your team, just please just for tonight, hmm?"

"no, Satoru, your bed is ready for you," trying to get yourself out of his hold, huffing, "mine has been waiting for me this whole weekend."

"rude, there’s no mine and yours in a relationship," Gojo bantered — you could almost feel the pout from his lips.

"i can't, satoru," you tried to shake him off. you absolutely tried to resist his sweet voice, the soft exhales you felt with your back pressed against his strong chest, the light tickle of the ends of his hair making you feel warm and safe. these immature moments that he held every so often when you rejected his offer to stay over for the night made your heart melt at his attempt to be with you just a little more.

moments he couldn't show forth to others, but freely did so with you. a dichotomy of himself that he stored in a safe — playful yet composed — masked underneath his zeal to prove to you that he was worth your love.

"I've been here this whole weekend, I need to go home."

“false, you were technically here with me for one day,” he corrected, “the weekend isn’t over yet.”

He must be crazy because even in rejection, Satoru couldn't resist his urge to gently kiss the top of your head as he tried to persuade you, "you smell nice," your boyfriend murmured while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, "i bet you'll smell even better with my clothes, better yet naked —" he mumbled while pressing a soft kiss to your trapezius.

"i already reek of your scent," you playfully cut him off, rolling your eyes while softly chuckling.

soon feeling his teeth lightly bite your shoulder, his warm tongue licking the dents, "a-and we can't," you whimpered "i have work tomorrow, and you do too, mister."

"you're so heartless, you know?" he sighed.

groaning like a child as he pressed his whole weight upon you, forcing you to drag his heavy frame as you made your way to the front door. you often forget that this man was infamously known to be the devil at work — meticulous and strategic, his sixth sense unlike no other as he paved his way into the business conglomerate — cutthroat and unforgiving of mistakes.

yet this man here, in the eyes of others a threat, was nothing but like a little boy throwing a tantrum.

"just tell me you hate me," he grumbled.

"don't you think you're being a little over dramatic?" you struggled while trying to put on your shoes, breathless from his body weighing down on you.

"no, you're just being cruel," your boyfriend tightened his grip on you, "who knows, at this rate you might just break up with me, again," he countered.

"I —" releasing a long sigh, "Satoru, I really do want to stay... but my work is literally an hour from here."

"and?" scoffing at your ridiculous excuse, "when has that ever stopped me?"

“You’ll be tired, a-and ijichi will be so stressed if you are —”

Smirking, “cute, but baby i don’t think my stamina will be an issue," kissing the back of your neck, "you should know that better than anyone, no?" Satoru hummed into your skin, "and plus, he’s good at what he does, I don’t worry about him. so focus on me.”

"I dont have clothes."

"wow, now you're a liar? you have plenty in my closet."

"i need to wash —"

"oh gosh, i'm having ptsd right now, i feel faint," your much accomplished and well-respected boyfriend childishly acted distraught, "remember when you just left me out in the cold, to fend for myself," he faked a sob, "because I remember."

"Satoru..." you sighed.

"or when you vehemently ignored all my texts and calls, and you heartlessly dumped me?"

"we were broken up —"

cutting you off, "and don't think I forgot about you just leaving my vulnerable self all alone and butt naked in the hotel room after sleeping with me."

"oh my god, i am dating a manchild," you exhaled, pinching your nose as you felt his lips curl into a smirk, the moment you put your bags down on the floor.

you've lost — a losing battle from the start the moment you said yes to loving this foolish man.

"say you'll stay then," Gojo chimed, his lips kissing up your neck to help — expedite — your decision-making, smiling as he whispered in your ear, slowly pulling you steps closer into his bedroom, "because I can keep going, love. if that means you'll stay."

comments: nonnie, this is gojo satoru we are talking about. YES, one hundred thousand percent, yes. he'll know when to use it as a joke and tease, but he wont ever throw it in while bickering or when fighting.

he does that especially when you tell him no.

this doesn't just apply to forbes gojo!! i think it's so on par with his canon character so honestly it's just a gojo hc HAHAH

#— mailbox.#anon.#forbes30!gojo #ae.writes

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kiss-me-muchoo · 9 months

Text

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: Love in the time of pastries // part two (this one)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ after Miguel stood you up on a date, there’s bad blood. He’s crawling to have your forgiveness, you’re not taking it. Until everything turns into a secret that shocks your Spider Society’s best friends. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_this is long, age gap (legal), idiots to lovers, secret relationship, angst, fluff, Miguel mandilón, mentions of sex and babies, NO proofread. 𝐀/𝐍_ afterglow and superlove from my playlist<3

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist. ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Whoever was tapping a pen against a binder, was pissing Miguel… heavily.

He was focused to keep looking at the door. You hadn’t come in yet. And you had been out for two days.

When Miguel asked Jess, she said… women stuff.

Even if Miguel denied the gang to be his friends, to his dismay… they had split up.

After the news of the failed date between you and Miguel, there were three sides.

Peter, Pavitr, and Gwen claimed Miguel had made a mistake but deserved another chance. On the other side, Jess, Lyla, and Miles were pretty sure that you were in your whole right to feel hurt and that Miguel should stay away from you.

Finally, the third side; Hobie and Margo. The two individuals were persistent in letting time amend things.

Only that time hadn’t done much in a week.

A lot of spiders are already inside the room.

Jess and Miguel are about to give new announcements and debriefings.

His eyes landed on you. He lacked a spider-sense, but he could hear his own heartbeats thumping on his ears and stomach as you arrived.

You had your suit, but a long dark blue sweatshirt covered half of your body.

Miguel wondered why you were wearing black sunglasses; maybe she was tired, or she thinks she looks bad without makeup, he thinks. Nonsense, she always looks pretty.

Margo is seated beside you, both of you chat and you smile once in a while.

You were trying your best to ignore Miguel. In a matter of a week, you had seen a side of the man you never thought you’d see.

He called your name softly, hoping to get an answer. But it wasn’t the one he desperately needed.

Just a polite reply that seized when you understood it wasn’t related to work.

So you shut his feelings out of your life, it’s for the best.

Things were slightly awkward whenever you had to be around him and your friends. Everyone noticed it. Suddenly you didn’t know how to behave, because things with your friends were okay, but with Miguel were not.

He’s just your boss, nothing else. He never was, is, and would, never be anything related to you besides being your boss.

“Is he looking?” You’d ask Margo. And through her cool mask with a bunch of eyes, she’d shake her head.

“Nah-, oh… he is now” your heart beating faster out of nowhere. The pair of black sunglasses covering your eyes would hide everything.

“Fuck…” you whisper, lowering your head.

“He’s back at talking with Jess” Margo explains. But Peter’s voice makes you forget about Miguel for two seconds.

“What? No Mayday?” you ask in panic. The baby girl was your excuse to avoid Miguel’s gaze.

“Sweet y/n, MJ and I were lucky to make her sleep so easily” She was also your only salvation to keep a sane conversation with your friends. Or else, it would always end with the different opinions everyone had about your current relationship status with Miguel.

“Damn it, Peter. You just ruined my day” you say exaggerating. The man rolls his eyes and Margo is giggling.

“C‘mon, you’ve been in a mood since the… situation with Mig-“

“DONT-… say it” You hurry to pretend to seal Peter’s lips. He shrugs.

“You should forgive him, I’m pretty sure he never meant to “

“Peter, Miguel is not innocent, but only time can heal this…” Margo explained softly. To which Peter rolls his eyes again.

“Time will only set them apart. More than they already are…”

“Yeah, but emotions are not easy and-“ you suddenly hear them, only sinking further into the chair of the room. Which is almost at full capacity now.

“Miguel likes her, y/n likes Miguel…What’s stopping them to-“

“I don’t-“Neither of you two end your sentences, because Jess is demanding silence.

You want to say you don’t like Miguel… but you do. You did since you joined the society. Only that you ignored it because of many factors. And you never thought he would ever look down at you.

But he did, and now you had him constantly begging you.

About the meeting; the go-home machine would change its location, one of the training centers would be refurbished, your bakery would need extra staff and missions would be announced through the gizmos.

Miguel looks at you one last time; you’re giggling with some spiders that get close to talking with you. Peter is there being goofy as usual, and Margo is a good individual.

He’s going towards you, but suddenly someone pulls him from the wrist.

“Don’t go…” Jess says to him.

“Why?” The woman huffs annoyed. Miguel thinks he’s losing time.

“She’s on her period. You don’t wanna mess with her in that state” he’s near the edge of blushing. Of course, he knew about periods, but sometimes he forgot that even you had it once a month.

“Cat got your tongue?” Jess asks playfully.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe you will stop chasing her and let her life like a normal young adult?” Miguel sighed.

When he turned to the door, you were gone.

Of course, he had thought about that. What if he was wrong? Liking you could be dangerous because it was very likely you weren’t even meant to be with him.

And that only made his pain bigger. Just when he had accepted that Gabriella and his late wife could be happy for him.

Still, his heart used to beat ridiculously faster just at the sight of you.

…

There weren’t a lot of bakery tools in the HQ. And you didn’t know how to move around Nueva York. And of course, you wouldn’t ask Miguel to take you on a culinary shopping trip.

So you went home to take a good amount of utensils that might be useful.

The hallways are cleared, good for the pile of bowls, spoons, and spatulas in your arms.

You want to hurry, as Pavitr and Gwen were waiting for you in the Spider’s lounge cabin bakery.

At the end of the meeting, you thought it was better to get yourself busy with the bakery rather than staying home, crying about the cramps and your broken heart.

“Shoot…” you mumble once you have stumbled into someone. Some of the spoons fall all over the floor and you have to bend to get them.

Panic assaults you. The last time you left Pavitr and Gwen in charge, the bakery was full of angry spiders demanding their orders. Cash is being thrown at the teenagers and Pavitr at the verge of tears because of the pressure. You really wanted to hurry up.

“I’m sorry…” you say, only to encounter Miguel, who’s helping you to pick up the spoons.

“It’s okay…” he replies softly, giving you a warm look that you opt for ignoring.

“Listen, y/n…” you look over his broad shoulder, encountering Miles, who was eating an empanada.

“Miles!” The boy turns and you are quick enough to secure all the utensils in your arms before sprinting away from Miguel.

He saw your hands shaking as he spoke. And it only made him sigh tired as you ran away from him. Once again…

That’s when he seriously thought about something.

The canon…

“Lyla?” He asked, and seconds later, the AI appeared beside him.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to my office. And show me things”. He demanded.

“What thing?” She asked, painting her nails.

“Really?” Miguel was tired of the AI forgetting about all the canon events models.

“Oh. Right…”

…

“Show me y/n’s canon events.” Lyla nodded, all the webs and millions of connections appeared around Miguel.

He had never seen your fate. And to be honest, he was nervous.

But he stood rigid and stoic as usual. Until your red web appeared.

All the brothers you could ever have never survived. Your mother had spontaneous abortions, and the babies would be born sick.

All the friends you ever had, always left you. Misunderstandings, envy, miscommunication.

The only love you ever had, died in your arms. He meant to save you, and you needed to protect him, ending in a traumatic catharsis.

Miguel felt like he was seeing a mirror of himself. He was also meant to be alone. Nobody to pat his shoulder and say everything was going to be fine.

He had a brother who passed away.

He never had friends, always betrayed him.

He had a love, but it wasn’t real.

He had his daughter, probably his true love, but wasn’t real either.

“I told you…” Lyla said.

“What thing?”

“She’s meant to be on her own. And begging her will only break her model. Do you want that, Miguel?” His hands landed on his hips. A clear sign of him being stressed.

“When it’s gonna be my turn to be happy then?” He asked, sounding a little more angry than he intended. Lyla sighed, sad to see Miguel like that.

“Okay, calm down. We haven’t finished seeing her canon events” she said trying to spread some hope.

As your web expanded, Miguel saw more details about you; you were thirteen when you were bitten. You had fallen in love with your Peter Parker but he stayed with MJ. Then, at fifteen, your Harry Osborn came, and… it didn’t end well.

“Oh-, wow. Miguel…” Lyla called him. When he looked at the “future”, his jaw almost dropped.

The last line of your web slowly started to grow, and move around the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse.

He saw you would be a famous chef in your earth and Nueva York. But his heart stopped after that…

“No…” he whispered. Destiny could be cruel, but Miguel never believed it; until your web intertwined with his.

“Then-, ups. Guess she wasn’t meant to be on her own after all” Lyla said, but Miguel never replied. He stood there for around five minutes appreciating what just happened.

Suddenly Miguel feels he has a personal purpose.

He’s not sure how two people from different universes could be together. Maybe it was fate beating canon for once.

He’s able to have someone by his side again.

Knowing that it was you; it made him happy. And for the first time in a very long time, Miguel was ready to love again. He didn’t have to think twice, to think if it was correct or not.

“Do not tell y/n” he said to Lyla. The AI nodded.

“Actually, do not tell anyone” Miguel stated, walking out of his own office.

…

It’s 10:40pm and you’re slightly sweating. Your window is open and the air barely soothes the heat.

The module of literature class of the week was so close to being done. You wanted a free weekend to rot in your house while your parents worked.

With the earphones on and loud music playing, you don’t see some pair of your shoes and boxes levitating.

Only the bright portal opening in front of your dresser was enough to make you turn.

You weren’t expecting anyone; you had scheduled a sleepover with Gwen and Margo in about three weeks.

But oh surprise; it was Miguel fucking O’Hara entering your room.

“Miguel?…” Your anxiety levels went up, and you ran to throw your earphones on the bed and close the door of your room.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You whisper-yell to him. His mask never showed any emotions, like him.

Miguel inspects your room shamelessly.

Too many books, perfumes, figures, and toys.

Unexpectedly, he found everything so interesting. Nueva York was all about the future, but here, with you… it felt homely.

“You’re lucky my parents are asleep” Since they claimed the master bedroom was too hot in summer, your parents sleep in the living room with a fan at maximum capacity.

“Oh really?” He mocks, chuckling under the mask.

You look so small and cute in a lavender shirt and pajama set. Wet hair that slowly is turning into curls and bare feet.

“Why are you here?” You ask once again, growing angry. Miguel had never ever been in your house, not even in your neighborhood.

Even if you were shocked, you hadn’t forgiven him.

“I’m not giving up. We need to talk…” After some days, you knew it would be hard to get rid of him. So if there was no turning back, you should listen. Just, maybe…

“God, you just forgot about the fucking date. It didn’t work out, just leave it” You spit as if it was a platitude.

“No. You know it’s more than that, y/n” Miguel was a man of word. And everyone knew that, so yeah… probably he wasn’t lying about liking you.

“Okay. Talk, but say it straight to my face. No mask…” he liked your words.

The mask disappeared, and as always, you weren’t ready to encounter his face.

The first seconds pass with you and him staring at each other.

Hopefully, you two would solve your problems just by looking. It wasn’t the case though…

“Can you hear my heartbeat?” He asks lowly. You are staring at his chest, probably his ribs. Because if you look straight, that’s what you see.

Until you raise your head again, to tremble because of his eyes.

You can hear his heartbeat, almost see the dopamine.

“Are you nervous?” You answer with another question. He smirks, face coming closer to you.

“No. I’m-…falling in love” your eyes shut closed. Your mind, is blank, even when your heart screams the reason you already know.

You’re falling in love too.

“No…Miguel-, you can’t because-“

“Chiquita, cállate. Por favor…” he moves, looking at your room once again.

The more he looked at your belongings, the more he was fascinated by you.

“Can I?…” you nod as he asked permission to seat on the edge of your bed. But soon your exaggeration invaded.

“WAIT!. Just-… Not with the suit on” he chuckled, noticing you were embarrassed to ask him to take off his suit.

He nods, giving a barely visible smile.

“I’ll turn around” you state, looking at your own image in the mirror.

By accident, you looked to the north, encountering Miguel’s back.

His suit was disintegrating; he was naked.

OH GOD-…

You could see his strong back. His light cinnamon skin and perfect muscles.

But as your eyes traveled across his back, your eyes landed on his ass; also naked.

Soon you remembered, he was naked. And all of the situation was happening just in seconds. Your only getaway was closing your eyes.

“You can turn now…” now in normal clothes, he had a hoodie and sweatpants. Making him look beyond desirable. And you hate yourself for thinking that way just after seeing his back… naked.

“What you’re feeling is not foreign to me, y/n,” he said, finally seating on your bed. He looks massive, yet soft. His hands holding the edge of your mattress, and he seems to be inspecting your notes displayed on the bed.

“Loving someone can be dangerous. Especially when you know you’re meant to be alone” The fact that he accepted canon wanted him alone made you feel sorry for him. But it also caused a sting in your heart, since were meant to live the same way.

“Because as much as we try to live the life we desire, we only cause chaos”

“Stop-“ you warn him. Scared to reach the subject of your Harry.

“I’m in your canon events.” In the beginning, you don’t believe him. But quickly, he’s pressing some things on his gizmo.

A quick glance at your canon events; your unborn siblings, friends betraying you, becoming Spider woman, losing Harry, having depression and surviving it, getting injured because of the Spot, and being together with Miguel. In a romantic way…

The man regrets showing you everything so suddenly because he watches you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Since when did you know about this?” You asked coming closer to him. He can see for the first time the tons of moles covering you, your lashes, and clean eyebrows. God, she’s so pretty.

“Yesterday. Lyla showed me” You nod, sighing.

He’s taken aback when you come to stand between his tights, hands grabbing his shoulders and getting painfully close to his face.

“Miguel. Every time I’ve fallen in love, it never ends well, cause-“

“Can you tell the same about me?” The trauma of losing his family was more than enough to understand him. But you’re still very scared, of losing him this time.

“I’m not gonna be able to handle a second time being stood up”

“We’re not talking about the theater anymore. Are we?” You smile, shaking your head.

“I don’t want to lose you too, Miguel”

“But you won’t. I’ll always come back… for you” Nobody would ever believe what was happening. Miles, Jess, and Lyla would be disappointed with what you were about to do.

“What about our dates? Is it going to be a thing of you to never show up?” He sighed in relief, smiling proudly.

“It was an emergency. I had to “

“Save the universe. Yeah, I know.” You interrupt him with another smile.

Again. You are just staring at each other like idiots. You don’t even remember he’s in your house. You’re in pajamas and it's the end of the summer.

“So you’re one of my canon events” he nods, confirming the news to you.

“Are we good? Are you ready for this?” His question makes you blush.

“Maybe? Yeah… I think so” Now you are free to caress his wide shoulders. He closes his eyes because it relaxed him.

“I’m sorry for the date, chiquita” You nod.

“With the news, the date is so long in the past”

“I’ll make it up to you. Now, it’s a promise” he can’t lie again. Not when canon is blessing your possible relationship with him.

You look at his lips, and the desire for him comes again.

“I’m gonna kiss you now…” you say, leaning closer. He’s eager for whatever you’re about to give him. Cause he was pleased just by you looking at him.

“Kiss me…” he accepts.

So you do it. Slowly, you melt your lips with his in a sweet kiss. His lips are soft, and his hands grasp your hips, moving you closer to him.

Probably two minutes into kissing, you start giggling.

“What?” Miguel asks on your lips.

“We can’t tell the others. Not yet…”

“I’d like to be your secret boyfriend,” he says.

“Boyfriend?” Your arched brow makes him blush.

“Well…”

“My soon-to-be boyfriend” you correct him, brushing his hair, and noticing how soft it is.

For the first time, Miguel is not afraid of showing emotions. He isn’t afraid of love anymore.

…

It’s funny, sweet, and goofy how you have to hide your new relationship with Miguel.

“Why were helping Miguel so late now?” Jess asks suspiciously.

Now, you stayed with Miguel doing everything and nothing. Mainly talking while organizing anomalies that needed to be sent home.

“I’m a coding girl. I’m being useful” You know Jess doesn’t believe you.

“I thought you were avoiding him”

“It’s been a month since that, Jess. I’m a mature woman” she giggles.

“In that case, that doesn’t explain why he was at your house the other night”

“What?”

“Gwen. You were having a sleepover and Miguel appeared out of nowhere” You roll your eyes.

“I forgot my mask, dear”

“Girl, if you’re lying to me-“

Miguel calls from your gizmo. You smile happily.

“I need help over here” he’s fighting a Mysterio on Penni’s universe. You know a date after the fight was granted.

“Duty calls…” you say to Jess.

As soon as you turn left, your gizmo is on again, calling Miguel.

“Do you still need help?”

“Not really, bonita. But what about a quick shower and we head to dinner?” You smile again.

“Sounds interesting”

“Te amo mucho, chiquita”

“Yo más, corazón” you reply feeling all the love in your chest.

Certainly, you were living a fever dream. Miguel O’Hara was your boyfriend.

“No. Yo más…”

“No-“

“Okay, enough. You, humans, get so obsessed with loving and all of that…” Lyla says appearing in your left shoulder.

“Are the hallways clear?” You ask her.

“Yep. Clear and free”

You open a portal, and since nobody can see, you head to Miguel’s place in Nueva York.

Jess saw Lyla talking to you. And she’s not convinced. And she knows who should receive an intervention.

…

Lyla was painting her nails when she was attacked by the most annoying gang; Hobie, Gwen, Peter, Miles, Mayday, and even Jess by their side.

“We deserve an explanation,” Peter says.

“Woah. What are you talking about? The AI asks.

“Miguel and y/n. Are they together?” Gwen asks now.

Lyla sighs, the little desk beside her disappearing as she descended to the gang.

“Miguel was very clear to keep his private life… private”

“So are they together or not?” Hobie asks, crossing his arms. As usual, the icebreaker was straight to the point.

“As Miguel’s second hand I-“

Someone called; Miguel of course.

“Lyla, archive today's reports and turn off the machine in my lab, please,” he says before shutting down the communication.

“Wow, he said please” Lyla points out.

“Look, location says… Tacos varios?” Miles asks with terrible Spanish pronunciation.

“It’s here in Nueva York,” Peter says excitedly, making Mayday giggle and shooting webs to nowhere.

“Let’s go!” Gwen says confidently.

Lyla only rolls his eyes.

“Crap…” she says.

“I knew you were aware of this” Jess points at the AI.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Lyla replies pretending to be cleaning her heart-shaped glasses.

…

Miguel knows you’re not listening to him. You are distracted by the smell of tacos.

“Did you hear anything I said, hermosa?”

“Hmm?” You ask looking at another couple eating an order of tacos al pastor. The pineapple slices look so juicy, and the beef looked so fresh. Your mouth was watering.

“I said if you wanted an agua fresca”

“Oh yeah. Horchata, please. We can share if you want to” he nods, standing up.

The place was humble and comfortable, even with the line of people waiting outside.

Even with the group of spiders in disguise looking from another table. Yeah, they followed you and Miguel.

“This food is so good,” peter said with his mouth full.

“Peter, don’t talk with your mouth full” the man shrugs as he looks at his baby in Jess’s arms.

“They look… friendly,” Miles says.

“Friendly, huh?” Hobie hints at something else. No one notices.

Miguel comes back with two plates; your tacos a vapor and his mulitas. A big cup of agua de horchata too, which looks small in his hand even when the cup was the biggest in the restaurant.

“Do you like onions?” your boyfriend asked you.

“I do. But I’d rather not eat today, or else… no kisses for you” Miguel rolls his eyes, chuckling.

Everything was fine. You were amazing and he felt happy again.

“Fair enough…”

“Oh, hey…uhm-. My parents are going out for the weekend. Do you wanna stay with me?” You were nervous about the question. Since the relationship was new, you didn’t want to push anything.

“I could stay with you…” neither of you was suggesting sex because neither of you needed to know you were in love with each other.

“Great. We can make dinner, bake something together, and watch movies. I can show you my books while we do skincare” Again, he rolled his eyes.

But he could only think one thing; I love my silly girlfriend.

“I don’t do skincare,” he said eating his mulita.

“Don’t worry, I don’t make it annoying…” you don’t want to finish your food because you’ll likely get another order and you didn’t want to get bloated. Not during an amazing date.

“I trust you, bonita” you giggled.

The spider group was getting impatient, all you did with Miguel was talking and laughing. Jess pointed out that Miguel never shared his food, but now, he was sharing his beverage with you.

“That’s weird,” she said, but nobody was listening since Peter ordered another order of tacos de canasta. Jess only rolled her eyes and started seeing what else happened.

“Oh look, they’re going out” Hobie was so fixated on his taco that he didn’t even hear what Gwen said.

You dumped the trash and Miguel waited for you at the entrance to get out.

You took his hand and it felt so right. His fingers responded and intertwined with yours.

“What now?” He asked.

“Dunno, Is there space for something sweet on your stomach?” Miguel smirked. Of course, you would want something sweet.

“There’s a bakery at the end of the avenue” Smiling, you nodded to him.

Unbeknownst to you and your boyfriend, you’re being followed by the nosy spider gang.

“I’m going home… I bet they’re dating and… at the end, I’m happy for them” Jess said.

“Are you leaving? Really?” Peter accused her.

“I miss my baby and man. Bye…” and with that, she opened a portal and left.

The bakery Miguel mentioned was at full capacity. A little line to get inside and the order was visible.

“Get in the line. I’ll get something for you” you nod confused. Miguel leaves and it’s impossible to lose him as his broad and tall figures move across the crowd of Nueva York.

You have an eye on the piles of cannolis and cheesecakes. Miguel paid for the food, which you would spend on dessert.

You remember your debit card doesn’t exist in Nueva York, but you had some cash valid on earth- 929.

Without seeing him, you know Miguel is back with you. He kissed your head before wrapping his arms around you, and a little bouquet of poppies in front of your appeared.

“Miguel!” He chuckles, kissing your head once again.

“I wanted to give you flowers since the first time”

“These are beautiful. Thanks, mi amor” You turn to grab the bouquet and kiss him deeply. Miguel found himself surprised to see how fast he had changed.

He deepens the kiss, some people in the line might send judgmental looks at him and you. But he doesn’t care.

He’s lost on your lips, concentrated on making you feel loved and happy.

Until he listened a well-known voice.

“Thank god you two are here” Miguel and you stop kissing only to meet Lyla.

“Lyla? What are you doing here” you ask looking at the little AI. Miguel must be feeling so angry. He was always very clear to not be bothered on his free day, except in case of a real big emergency.

“Why are you here? I’ve been strictly clear about-“

“I’m sorry. I accidentally showed your location when you called and the kids heard and-“

“I KNEW IT!” You’re not understanding anything. Miguel huff annoyed and rolls his eyes at the sight of his least favorite coworkers.

“All of you! Ugh-…” your boyfriend starts, pointing at Lyla, Hobie, Peter, Mayday, Gwen, and Miles.

“Me tienen hasta la madre. What are you doing here?” Suddenly there’s only one person left after you to buy a treat. You are so confused and Miguel already is thinking of ways to apologize for another half-failed date.

“You’re dating, right?” Gwen asks covering her mouth and smiling along with Miles.

“You two have to be dating. The hands holding, sharing drinks, and that kiss. Wow, you looked so adorable holding her cheek” You’re blushing, Miguel is at the edge of being flustered.

“Peter. Shut up…” Lyla warns Peter.

“Yeah. We’re dating…We just wanted to keep it private… for a little” You can’t help to laugh when everyone starts cheering.

“But…How? After the theater thing we thought-“

“Miguel is in my canon events,” you say before entering the shop and leaving everyone in shock.

Your boyfriend only stares there, awkwardly.

“Tell Jess, I can’t believe this!” Peter yelled at Lyla, who was very nervous wondering how was Miguel.

The 6’9 foot tall man wanted to activate his suit, grab you by the waist and get you out of his earth and take you to your beautiful house.

You are paying for a little box of sweets, and he can’t wait for you to get out.

“This is amazing. I’m so happy for you” Peter pressures Miguel, smiling and caressing his shoulder.

“You two already have plans or what?…” Hobie asks for the first time.

Miguel sends him a bad look, and thankfully, you’re out. Standing beside Miguel to hug his arm.

“We’re going slow, guys. But yeah, canon indicates it’s safe for us to be together” Your touch is what is keeping him from yelling at some teenagers and an adult once again.

“Oh yeah, canon indicates that… in about 18 months, a baby could pop in from these two” Lyla spills like nothing.

“WHAT?” you basically scream in the middle of the street.

Miguel’s eyes only widened before he exchanged flustered looks with you.

A baby? In a year and a half? No way.

“Oh-, ups. I didn’t show you that part” the AI said to Miguel.

He looked Lyla like wanted to kill her. Which made the little AI disappear immediately.

A long conversation with would happen eventually.

“Well, congratulations,” Miles says giving you a hug. You accept it, but you’re still in shock.

“Mystery solved. Can we go home now?” Hobie asks sarcastically.

Miguel agrees with Hobie for the first time.

After some awkward goodbyes, you are alone with Miguel again.

“That was weird but funny. Don’t be too harsh on them on Monday, please” he sighs, following back to his place.

“They can’t simply invade our privacy and walk out like nothing, y/n”

“Well yeah, but… They are our friends and they mean well”

“Correction. They are your friends” he says opening the door of his building for you. Is a futuristic apartment complex. And Miguel owns the biggest of course.

“Deny it as much as you want, but they are our friends” Miguel shrugs.

You already have a lot of things in his place. Your parents didn’t know yet. They would likely disapprove but easily get used to it. Especially since Miguel is the best boyfriend.

And in a month, he had convinced you to love so hard again.

“Chiquita, I want this weekend to be just about us. Can we?” You nod, taking your slippers and going straight to wash your hands. He watches you put the flowers in a cup, it makes him feel like he’s achieving domesticity with you. Miguel gets some forks and plates for the pastries you bought. And soon, you are snuggling on the couch with the pastries and glasses of white wine.

“What do you think about Lyla and what she said?” You were dying to know. But too scared to actually find out.

“She’s not lying. And… if that’s our future, I’ll be happy” There’s a lot to know about each other, but you like how everything was developing.

“All those fears of being alone or losing you are over. I have you and whatever it is, it’s gonna be fine”

“Ay, Miguel. Te amo tanto, corazón” he smiles, leaning to leave his plate on the little table of the living room.

“Yo mas, mi vida” Whoever you two were in the past was gone.

These new versions were eager to be lovers.

_____________________________________________

+Next fics are_ reputation (Miguel’s version) fic and the long time waited hurt me it’s okay part two

Taglist: @deputy-videogamer @poppyflower-22 @ggwonderwoman @bruhhhhhh1234 @seasonofthenerd @g0oshtt @luvrrish @docs-dani @irongardenermaker @berlinswifey @hobiseightbracelet @corpsebridenightamare @asmi-bae @love4saturn @yellooaaa @currentlyinflames @sukjko @carmilla01 @ladyrosemone @wilmontana987

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

1K notes · View notes

bbyquokka · 4 months

Note

Hyunnie thst type of bf to have a spa day with u when u had a rough day at work and he be like

Getting face masks and wine ready and he be like

"Spill the tea baby, what happened"😭

spa day

FLUFF/SUGGESTIVE THEMES BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

cw: gn reader, established relationship, food & alcohol mentioned, it gets suggestive at the end, hehe. words: 1k ~ (1,002)

a/n: soft thought turned slightly hard? mhm, yes, hehe. i dont make the rules, my mind told me to do it! i hope you enjoy! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“i'm so over today. freaking dumb ass people and their dumb ways of thinking. how can i give you a refund on something you used months ago!?” you mumble to yourself as you throw your bag on the floor and kick your shoes off.

your commotion makes hyunjin jump in his seat. he puts down his paintbrush and wipes his hands on an old tee. he peeks his head out of the studio door, brows furrowed together as he notices how stressed and unamused you look.

“fucking people. i don't get paid enough to deal with the bs.” you continue to grumble. you go to flop down on the sofa but a pair of strong and warm arms pulls you out of your bubble and back down to reality.

“oof!” you grunt as hyunjin pulls you into his chest. he rocks you side to side, stroking your hair softly.

“rough day?”

“you could say that.” you laugh bitterly before melting into hyunjin's chest.

“want to talk about it?”

"yeah, that'd be nice.” you whisper.

“ok. but go take a shower first.”

“trying to say i smell?!” you look up at him. hyunjin thinks for a split second and nods. you scoff and gently slap his chest. “ok ok, finee.”

you push yourself off him and walk to the bathroom. you do your usual shower routine, feeling a hundred times better and more relaxed in your comfy lounge wear.

you open the door to the bathroom and walk to the living area, gasping at how it currently looks.

the coffee table moved to the side to make room for two cushions and a blanket. candles lit up in the room with the tv on low volume. hyunjin dressed in shorts and his robe, his hair up on a half ponytail.

on the coffee table are two glasses of wine, bowls filled with your favourite snacks and treats, two facemasks and other spa inspired items.

hyunjin looks up at you as he pours you a glass before setting the bottle on the table. he gives you a warm grin before walking to you.

“what is this?” you whisper, still in awe.

"thought the best way to help you relax was to have a spa day!”

“you did all this in the time i was in the shower?” hyunjin nods and grins, clearly impressed with his handiwork. “that's impressive.”

“haha, thank you! now come and relax.” he guides you to the cushions. you sit down cross legged as he hands you a glass of wine.

“thank you.” you take the glass and take a big sip of it.

“easy there tiger. at least wait until food arrives.” he laughs

“you ordered food?”

“yeah, your favourite!”

“god i fuckin' love you.”

“i love you too.” hyunjin puts down his glass and grabs a face pack and a headband. he hands you the band and waits until you have finished putting it on.

he opens the pack and gently puts it on your face, soothing it out with his fingers. you hum softly at the refreshing coolness of the pack. you close your eyes slowly and sip your wine as you relax.

“all i need is some cucumbers on my eyes.” you mumble. hyunjin laughs softly before putting a mask on himself, relaxing beside you and sipping his wine.

“so, tell me what happened.”

“ugh. well–” you go on a rant and rave about work, about the customers, managers and bosses. the more you talk, the more annoyed you start to feel. hyunjin simply nods his head and listens to you.

he's good like that. he won't interrupt you in the slightest and just let you go on. once finished, does he soothe you with some kisses and hugs.

halfway through your long rant, the doorbell rings. hyunjin answers the door to the food delivery guy, forgetting about his mask. the delivery guy gives hyunjin a shocked face before laughing when hyunjin explains the situation.

he walks back to you, explaining what just happened. you laugh and make jokes about it, forgetting about your rough day at work and why you were so angsty to begin with.

“thank you, hyun.” he looks at you as he peels off his mask.

“for?”

“for this. i appreciate it greatly.”

"no problem! i hate seeing you distressed so this is the least i can do for you.” you hum softly and take your own mask off.

after eating the food, hyunjin gives your hands a massage and even paints your nails. you do the same, matching the colour he has given you. you both enjoy each others company and enjoy what he has done for you.

you can't believe how lucky you are.

“strip.” you blink at his sudden request before noticing the bottle of massage oil in his hand. you strip yourself of your tee, resting on your stomach with your chin on your hands.

hyunjin straddles you and pours the lotion onto your back. you shiver at the coldness which makes him laugh.

“wasn't expecting a massage, hyun.” you giggle

“it's not a spa session without a massage!”

"mhm, i guess you're right.” you grin before groaning. his thumbs dig into your tense back muscles, fingers working their magic on you.

you squirm underneath him, moaning and groaning. hyunjin swallows thickly as something so innocent is sounding so lewd to him. he feels himself heat up and his groin to feel warm.

“babe.. please, can you keep the moaning to a minimum.” he begs.

"but your fingers feel so good, hyun.” you grunt innocently as he digs into your muscles.

"yn.. please..” he huffs. you ignore him. hyunjin bites his lip hard, his penis twitching several times.

“h-hyunjin.” you moan softly.

“fuck.” you squeal as he turns you on your back suddenly. your eyes widen as you look up at hyunjin. his eyes filled with lust as he licks his lips, ready to devour you.

“you're doing this on purpose yn. you must really enjoy riling me up.”

289 notes · View notes

majorproblems77 · 22 days

Text

LU Update! So welcome back to the analysis corner with me!

We have another LU update! Called Moving forward we see the heroes leave the town and make their way to the location that Sky found. With learning a little more about the team as a whole.

With 10 pages there's a lot of information to work through so I hope you are sitting comfortably

As always Linked universe (LU) belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, I own none of the pictures I'm using and please give the original post some love. It's very well done and I love this comic so much.

You can find the comic here!

And as always there are spoilers abound for the most recent update!

Now sit back, grab some water and snacks and let's do this!

So before we get started im just gonna say that the brain cell is pinging around this lot so much that I'm bound to miss some stuff. But I shall try my best to get everything I wanna say said.

It was only some of you, captain, dont forget that.

(Oblatory look at my blorbo picture, he's so sweet. Blorbo blorbo blorbo)

Okay I'll behave this time

(No i won't)

I can understand the concern from the captain, as a captain from the army during a time of war secrets are dangerous. He's probably thinking if Twilight has concealed this what else has he concealed.

And then we get snarky wars again

I missed the snarky captain, he's wonderful.

Also the line about double duty, Come on captain, you know full well that patrol is an important part of a group dynamic like this.

This also confirms that the group have had encounters with monsters outside of what we've seen. As the line from wars about missing fights implies that they've fought a bunch of stuff. But we've only really seen wolfie in a fight back in the sunset arc.

Twilight fondly mentioning Midna, I'm so proud of him.

These two are the goddamn brothers ever and I love them dearly. Also, the knowledge we are about to be given about how this works is very exciting.

The brothers ever

All of them

Twilight thinking Wild had more than two brain cells. I love him. And the hug? The hug gives me life.

Also the captain, the captain is a point to talk about here. This feels like an accusatory sentence. The "You dont say?"

Me trying to figure out how time travel works in LU.

Legend, why are you so grumpy about this? Like he looks angry to hear this.

Four thinking about the implications of this sentence. I can literally hear the brain cell bouncing as it pings from hero to hero as they try to figure out this time travel thing.

Wind is a small bean as well look at him. The youngest I love the eyes.

Ahh, so thats the explanation. A spirit wolf that helped guide him on his journey which he trusted so much that he thought that the wolf he saw here was just another spirit until twi changed in front of him.

But this line from him is so sad. "Right after my resurrection" and "we both would have known the grave." This feels like as a person wild is at peace with it but doesn't want others to have to go through what he did. He's a chill dude and i love him for that to be honest.

Meanwhile, my blorbo Sky is out here trying to get actual work done. This is 10/10 the sksw dousing experience if you've not played it. You just swing the sword around while it pings at you until you eventually find what you are looking for.

Fi is trying her best.

Lads all of you need to remember that not all of you have had things that perform transformation magic. Im surprised (But also not surprised) That Time doesn't have anything to say about this. Like my man has used a tone of different transformation masks that change him into various different things and has one that turns him into a god.

The magic users ganging up on the non-magic users, like please behave.

Ahh Time, Time is the disappointed old man that has to coral a bunch of kids. And Wild is like the most kid of them all. (Tell me why I'd love to know! :D) (Which makes sense if we take LU to be at most a few months after the end of his game. Wild would be 18 at most.)

the sort of conversation you dont want to involve yourself in Time trust me on this one.

JUST SOME GUY WILD JUST DESTROYED TWILIGHT OKAY RIP

Feels bad for twi man he earned that title and to have it reduced to just some guy.

Wild is gonna get told off by Time if he ain't careful, that's his blood descendant right there and we all know he has a soft spot for him.

This is important, because I'm pretty sure most of them did at one point.

Another thing that appears to be a constant amongst the team is the need to conceal an identity. Either from them or them to others.

I'm not versed in all of their games so I can't go into full details but these guys ain't the only ones. Pretty much all of them have. The spirit of courage does love secrets, doesn't it?

Thats my blorbo and he's so sad help he

Blorbo blorbo blorbo

Give him a hug and reboot Fi and it'll be fine.

To echo the words of Time.

Curious.

Now this depends on what exactly Sky was dousing, was he dousing the portal, the helmet outside the portal? The postman even?

My money is on the helmet outside the portal, so that Dink came back into this timeline to retrieve it before leaving. But I may be incorrect on that account because Fi is able to track people as well as objects (Sksw would often have you tracking Zelda directly)

OHHHH

I was wondering how they were going to do it. But with Twilight able to track it they'll be able to use a combination of dousing and him sniffing out Dink's scent to be able to find him no matter where he might be.

It's so distinct, twilight you know by saying that you're gonna have some of these guys asking questions. Just wait for the next campfire story time it's gonna come up.

I can see Wind and Twilight having a conversation like this.

"What does Dink smell like?" "What?" "You heard me."

Oh he's so excited look at him!

Oh four.

I wonder if we are gonna have a four and Twilight conversation about this, with four's past he's understandably worried about the use of dark magic in one of his friends.

Oh come on legend lighten up, the child has never seen something like this before.

I'm glad Hyrule is coming in for his defence and all but 5 minutes ago Hyrule you were with Legend and saying to Wild that there's a load of items that do it.