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#kindness is an unspoken language
asjjohnson · 1 year
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...People know that hand gestures have meaning, right?
I was watching something on TV with my dad, and he commented that it was interesting how this guy's hand gestures seemed to match what he was saying, unlike how most people's hand gestures are just random waving.
Shocked, I told him that every hand gesture meant something, and that he was just more in-tune with the way this one person thinks.
So, just to make sure, in case I was wrong to assume everyone knows this...
Hand gestures are an instinctive form of communication, trying to get across thoughts, ideas, and feelings (or possibly trying to better understand your own). It's like charades if you're allowed to speak at the same time. It's like sign language when you don't know the real signs. Every single gesture means something, even when that meaning doesn't come across.
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sierra6x · 1 year
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what soft romance cliché are you?
because i love you!
passionate; you are the heated moment of an argument. when the person you care for has done something outrageously stupid or dangerous. all of your pent up emotions that you've kept inside of you come bursting out: "beCAUSE I LOVE YOU!" how could they be so dense. how could YOU be so dense. you've loved each other this whole time. your love tends to be strong, and loud. sometimes it might be hard for you to express your feelings but you let people know that they are cared for. you're also hot. good for you.
tagged by: @pistoiet tagging: do it & tag me.
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lucybianchi · 1 year
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#just talking into the void real quick#but like why am I the kind of fanfic writer who is like “I've got to make sure I have everyone's voice right” so I read/watch a bunch of#content with said characters talking to make sure I won't write them OC because that's one of my pet peeves and then I'll proceed to write#nothing but descriptions/internal dialog and they speak out loud maybe 5 times in 10 pages#like bitch you want to read about characters have more of a conversation through touch and body language or unspoken understandings#I've got you#But actually dialogue????? Who is she???? Speaking???? I've never been to oovoo javer#like why am I like this#dead ass when I used to write scripts for class it used to be a PROBLEM because my profs would set page requirements because of the#minute per page rule but a page of dialogue and a page of action are two very different things and my scripts used to be DENSE with action#But also why am I the bitch out here doing dumb fucking research on shit that NO ONE is gonna check me on#like who the FUCK actually cares about shit like time period accurate asthma treatments (I used this for a fic about Steve and Bucky once)#Or fucking Italian funerary customs/the style and construction of graveyards#like no one is gonna “um actually” me in a fic about small niche details but now because of fucking Giomis I want to make#Budino al cioccolato because looking it up fucking Italian chocolate pudding unlocked information from my childhood that has been driving#me insane for years because I had a strong memory of eating a warmish Italian chocolate pudding as a child and never could identify it and#then I looked it up for a fucking fic and realized that was what the fuck I ate as a child#And#I#Want#It#anyways#a bitch be ranting and a bitch be writing#but this time I'm planing to finally actually post my stuff on AO3 >.>#If anyone cares I do be out here writing Jojo fanfic because I have brain rot and if you want to join me you should go check out my#Jojo blog >.> you can find link in my bio#sophia talks too much
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thebirdandhersong · 2 years
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#sometimes i expect mr knight to express love the same way i do and i'm not sure why ?#i'm fairly obvious about it.... or at least obvious in my own eyes...... there is a lot of cooking and listening and beaming involved#as well as letter writing and Doing Things for him#(and wasting away in armchairs when he's not around.... ANYWAY)#so if i get too caught up in that i forget to look at the big picture. i forget that he's also speaking in his own way#in his own language with his own words so to speak#like!! the man knows i get cold easily. he knows i sleep with like six blankets#he'll try to warm up my hands when we're walking#and he went to buy the thickest duvet he could find so that i would be warm at night#and asked rather anxiously how it was after the first night i used it#and one evening when we were walking home i was shivering uncontrollably#because i was silly enough to wear a dress and stockings in APRIL (here in BC)#and he took off his coat and insisted i wear it over my coat. even though HE had nothing but a short sleeved shirt underneath it#if i think too much about these little things he does it makes me want to Cry#anyway the point of this is: wow people DO express love in different ways#and part of learning about someone in any kind of relationship is learning about how this unspoken language of theirs works#the planetarium chapter#mr knight is in many ways still a mystery to me but i am slowly learning more about him every day....... it feels like a huge honour
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grisler · 1 year
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❛ we’re not all savages here, sweetheart. ❜
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  the masked figure  stands,  still  guarded,   though  less  likely  to  strike  than  before.  there's an        uncomfortable       kind       of     familiarity        he feels in the room,  a  kind  that   makes  his  stomach  turn,   that  he  isn’t  particularly  fond  of.      ❝    could’ve  fooled  me.      ❞  
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fragileheartbeats · 3 months
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⌗ 𝘑𝘑𝘒 𝘏𝘊 ⁝ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮? ( ♡ )
— 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘠𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢, 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘚𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶, 𝘛𝘰𝘫𝘪, 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰, 𝘠𝘶𝘵𝘢 <3
˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 | 五条 悟 ─ 𓇼
When Satoru Gojo loves, it's like a tempestuous dance of wit and charm. His love is a symphony of playful banter and passionate embraces. His eyes hold the secrets of a thousand stars, and his touch ignites the very essence of your being. In the quiet moments, he whispers sonnets of adoration, and in the chaos, his laughter is the melody that soothes your soul. With him, love is an adventure, an uncharted territory that he's eager to explore with you, hand in hand, through the trials and triumphs of life.
𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒 恵 ─ 𔒌
Megumi's love is a sonnet of gentle whispers and soulful gazes. His affection is like a melody, soft and haunting, weaving its way into the very fabric of your being. He expresses his love through words, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings. With him, love is a quiet symphony, where every note resonates with the promise of understanding and unwavering support.
𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 | 虎杖 悠仁 ─ 𓐐𓎩
Yuji's love is a ballad of laughter and playful affection. His love is a dance, filled with joy and lighthearted moments that linger in your heart. He expresses his affection through kindness, each one a reflection of his boundless energy and unwavering loyalty. With him, love is an adventure, where every step is a testament to the strength of his love and the depth of his devotion.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 | 宿儺 ─ 𓇢𓆸
Sukuna's love is like a forbidden sonnet, dark and intense. His affection is a double-edged sword, dangerous and all-consuming. In his eyes, you see the storm of centuries past, but within it, there's a tempestuous passion that threatens to unravel your resolve. His touch is a promise of protection, and his gaze, a whispered confession of possessiveness. To love him is to dance on the edge of darkness, where danger and desire intertwine in a hauntingly beautiful ballet.
𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 | 七海 建人 ─ ☘︎
Kento's love is a gentle melody, composed of unwavering support and quiet devotion. His affection is a steady lighthouse in the tempest of life, guiding you home with every glance and touch. He expresses his love through tenderness, each one a testament to his undying commitment. With him, love is a tranquil river, flowing with the promise of constancy and security, where every ripple tells the story of a love that stands the test of time.
𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 | 夏油 傑 ─ 𓆉
Geto's love is a tapestry of shared silences and stolen glances. His affection is like a vintage love letter, filled with wisdom and longing. He expresses his devotion through the gift of time, sharing quiet sunsets and starlit nights with you. His love is a sanctuary, a place where your vulnerabilities are cherished, and your dreams take flight. With him, love is a journey of understanding, where every moment is a verse in an epic poem written just for you.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 | 伏黒甚爾 ─ 𓆤
Toji's love is a sonnet of subtle gestures and unspoken emotions. His love is like a rare flower, blooming in the most unexpected places. He expresses his love through tender touches and silent reassurances, each one a confession of his unyielding devotion. With him, love is a secret garden, where every whispered promise and stolen moment is a testament to the depth of his feelings for you.
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 | 脹相 ─ 𖤣𖥧
Choso's love is like a carefully crafted poem, each word a reflection of his understanding of your heart. He expresses his love through giving, each gift a token of his adoration and appreciation. With him, love is a canvas waiting to be painted, where every stroke of his affection creates a masterpiece of cherished moments and treasured memories.
𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 | 乙骨 憂太 ─ ✉
Yuta's love is a gentle hymn, filled with compassion and understanding. His affection is like a warm embrace, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety and acceptance. He expresses his love through quiet moments and heartfelt conversations, each one a testament to his unwavering support and unyielding strength. With him, love is a haven, where every breath is a reminder of the depth of his feelings and the beauty of his soul.
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MASTERLIST
@fragileheartbeats . Don't plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
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fillinforlater · 2 months
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SULLied MINd
Male Reader x Kim Minju, Seol Yonna (Sullyoon)
Length: 10.228 words
Tags: art-project all nighter turns threesome, secret crushes, softly making out, stripping, striptease, shy to bold, double blowjob, worshiping cock and balls, cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, facial, cumsluts, virginity taken, missionary, sweat, stocking kink, riding, rimming, stand and carry, cum drinking, lots of perverted thoughts, lucky!you
TW: I barely finished this in time, so the editing is not that in depth lol
Inspiration: Minju and Sullyoon just go together very well, dunno if @sinswithpleasure was the first to give this idea, but the pairing definitely comes from The Bunker... the rest is my own craziness
(A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL! Happy Minju day to everyone, I hope you enjoy this fic which was supposed to be like around 4-5k...)
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“No, you gotta put it in here, not in there!”
“I-I can’t, my hand is too big for the hole.”
“Then try using your fingers, that should work.”
“Eh, okay, but you need to hold onto the legs, otherwise it’ll fall over.”
“Let me get in between the—ah, Minju, watch out! Now my hand is all white.”
“Oops, Sorry.”
The struggle behind you is real, the struggle in front of you—the unfinished essay due tomorrow that is—is real too, but those spoken words cannot be real. You know exactly what Minju and Sullyoon are referring to when talking about white stuff and holes and size. After all, they are working hard to wrap up the project all of you have procrastinated on for so long and it’s bound to be a mess.
You start to trip over your own unspoken words. The lewdness in your mind is unfathomable, a mess can be a mess without mess being the wild, chaotic, imaginary sex that seems to creep into your brain more and more.
No, focus. It’s just a mess because Sullyoon and Minju still don’t know how to put together the human-sized post-modern sculpture of a robot made from cardboard, newspapers and glue—white glue, that drips from Sullyoon’s hand as she tries to shove a painted cardboard cylinder into—
You did it again. Your thoughts are betraying you.
“What are you looking at?” Sullyoon nags, when she spots your dreamy gaze on her hand. Wait, are you drooling? What the fuck is happening?
“N-nothing, nothing,” you quickly turn around and look at the pathetic pile of words that neither make sense nor reach the required minimum amount to pass. “It’s just that—you two are too loud, I can’t concentrate.”
Minju throws you a concerned look, while Sullyoon aggressively wipes her hands on a paper towel and hits you over the head with a piece of cardboard. Now there’s some stickiness in your hair
“Oh yeah? You’re still the furthest behind—I’ll do the writing, I can’t build for shit—that’s what you said and you are still not finished.”
“Sully, please, don’t scream,” Minju groans and gets on her knees in between the sculptures legs, her head on level with what could be its crotch. “Let’s just focus, okay? Can you give me the, uhm, white stuff? I need to fix the butt.”
And now Minju is spreading glue all over the—it’s better you look away and focus on the task ahead. The essay should go over all the different periods of, uhm. Or maybe the various stages during, some-thing? Perhaps the teacher wants a concise summary of how you came up with the idea and created the illusion of Sullyoon sticking her fingers in Minju’s pussy and making her face contort into—
“You’re drooling!” Sullyoon shouts and hits you again.
“Sully, please!” Minju tries to calm the situation down.
“What? Can I not be angry that this lazy ass is just daydreaming—”
“Sully, language! And stop screaming!”
“You’re both screaming and shouting, how should I concentrate?”
“You—”
Sullyoon is about to throw hands. Though they both might give off a similar reserved, kind, beauty vibe to the unsuspecting outsider, Sullyoon and Minju are quite different. It shows now more than ever, when Sullyoon slams her fist on the desk next to you and stares you down into the chair, while Minju sits on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, head lowered in defeat and annoyance.
“Stand up,” Sullyoon orders, her grip on your biceps harsh, as if she tried to scar you with her nails. “I’ll do it, save the project while you can fuck off.”
“The fuck?” you shout back, face angry. Sullyoon’s hand is slapped away and you’re about to fight more if she doesn’t back off. “You won’t do anything, and don’t curse at me. Who do you think you are?”
“Guys—”
“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable!” Sullyoon interrupts Minju and opens her adorable eyes wide in rage. “You’re gonna fail us with that—pathetic excuse of a text.”
“It would be better if you could keep your mouth shut, Sullyoon, and let me finish this in peace. Also, the robot is still not upright. If he falls over, Miss Kwon will rip our heads off.” You can barely hold yourself together. The only positive thoughts for Sullyoon, if you can call them that, are the lewd ones, those imagining her naked, her navel exposed, her pussy bare.
“Guys, I—!”
“Oh and that’s my fault? I bet your drool will make it unstable. I swear if you turn around one more time—”
“Then what? You’ll beat me, assault me? I think Miss Kwon won’t give you a better grade then—”
An ear-shattering boom. The door is shut, the door to Minju’s room—Minju, who is not with you anymore. For such a kind and bubbly girl, this fight must have killed her. She was the one suggesting that you all do the project at her place, with her parents out of town. She made cookies beforehand and had something planned for dinner too.
“I-I think we overdid it,” Sullyoon sums it up with an usually soft whisper and you nod in shame. Minju has been nothing short of an excellent host for the two of you.
Suddenly, Sullyoon’s phone rings. She doesn’t get time to answer it however, as the caller seems to end the call within a moment's notice.
“I’ll be out, gimme a second,” Sullyoon says and runs to the door.
“Sure.” She didn’t even hear that, that’s how quiet your voice was. Outside, you hear Sullyoon hurrying down the stairs. There is turmoil in your head about what you ought to do. Should you just sit here and wait for them to come back? Is it better if you go downstairs as well, apologize to Minju, so the three of you can continue with the project? Should you continue alone, perhaps?
You decide on option four: sneak towards the door, carefully open it and then lay low while trying to pick up what they are talking about. They surely aren’t fighting anymore, but their voices are loud enough for you to clearly hear every word.
“It was stupid of me, okay? Can we go back upstairs and finish our sculpture?” Sullyoon asks with loving care.
“I-I don’t know if I can,” Minju sniffles. “This was embarrassing.”
“What do you mean? You weren’t embarrassing, we were. This fight was—”
“No, you don’t get it, Sully!”
Now things seem to get heated. You can hear Minju jumping up from a chair, while Sullyoon gasps.
“Then explain it to me, Minju!”
“Okay, screw it.
“I like him, okay? Two years, I have waited two years for us to finally be in a project—and now you two are fighting! You are ruining my chances with him!”
The silence is deafening. If you weren’t lying prone on the floor already, your knees would have collapsed and you would’ve landed in the same spot anyways. What a revelation! For the first time in your life, you believe that either your ears are deceiving you or that you’re in the most lucid dream imaginable. Never before has a girl had feelings for you—
“This can’t be real,” Sullyoon suddenly laughs out loud. “You like this guy?”
“Wha-what do you mean?” Minju hisses back, whiny, like she’s about to cry. “He is very-very handsome a-and I’ve seen his abs. He is also smart, have you heard him talk about history? It’s so attractive.”
“Yeah, of course I have, he is like talking non-stop in history class.” Sullyoon’s tone has shifted from shocked and dismissive to a bit dreamy, almost like she is admiring you. “And the way he pronounces all these foreign words, or how he gives it his all in PE—”
“Wait a minute,” Minju interjects and you can hear the grin as it forms on her face. “You like him too, Sully!”
“Not anymore, not after his lazy ass didn’t do a damn thing during our project.” Another second of silence, then both of them start laughing hysterically, one is stomping on the floor, the other tries to cover her mouth to muffle the loudness.
You’ve heard enough. No, seriously. At this point, you could die happily. Two of the prettiest girls in the entire school like you and both of them are in your project group which will surely last until the next morning at your current pace. What else could you want more? Countless guys would kill to have such an opportunity.
But you want more.
“Crazy, we have the same crush. Oh, have you seen the pictures of his abs?” Minju asks excitedly after the two have finished their laughing fit.
“No, but I was about to ask: how did you get those?” Sullyoon gasps again and then giggles while both start to whisper. The whispers are too quiet, you can barely pick up any syllables. This marks the perfect moment to get back in front of the PC so they won’t catch you eavesdropping when they come back up. It also gives you time to think about what you want to do.
The image of them and their crush on you hasn’t fully settled yet, however, you’re already planning how this night might continue, what might happen, what you should say. Unlike during exams, you don’t feel pressure or tension that’s about to crush you—there is just excitement and a feeling of being loved.
“Hey, we-we are back,” Minju says a few minutes later, her face all red when she enters her room. Sullyoon follows after her, her hair a bit messier than before. Unlike Minju, she is able to hide her feelings for you quite well, now that you know.
“Hey,” you respond with a soft voice. “Look, Minju, I’m so sorry about earlier. I should’ve done my job. I won’t let you guys down this time, I promise. Sullyoon, if you want to, you can write the text. Sorry that I was so rude earlier.”
“I-it’s fine.” Both their voices seem to break when you stand up and give each an apologetic bow. With your new knowledge, you assume that this is a good sign, like selecting the correct dialogue option in a video game.
“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Sullyoon asks and you nod.
“It’s settled then.” Minju grabs a wrist from you and a wrist from Sullyoon and has this adorable, bright smile on her beaming face. “Let’s not fight anymore and finish this dang project!”
“You are absolutely right, Minju!” you gleefully say. “You two are pretty awesome, so I’ll give it my all.”
Both their breaths pick up in pace; who would have thought that you could make the hearts of girls flutter with just a bright, sunshine smile. Sullyoon and Minju quickly dive back into work, ears still red, and you pretend to be completely unaware. Unaware of their feelings, unaware of their hopes, unaware of their—potentially sullied thoughts.
But could those two angelic looking girls really have the same impurities in their minds as you do? Can it match your fantasies of one of them admitting their love to you tonight, you kissing, cuddling and fucking secretly in the bathroom, while the other continues to work on the project? Maybe they have similar thought, but did they ever consider—
“Can you, uhm, hand me the, eh—” Minju stutters and taps her temple in thought. She looks adorable doing so.
“Do you need the model? Some cardboard? Scissors?” you ask back but Minju shakes her head, a bit abashed that she lacks the focus to say which item she needs. Thinking of scissors, your fantasy does not stop at some one-on–one lovemaking. You’d want the other to join, all three of your tongues in a make out session while your hand is in the back of their panties. You want to fondle their butts and hear them moan before they would scissor, their wet pussies rubbing up and down your manhood until you explode.
“I need the… white stuff.”
“You need the white stuff—from me?”
A quiet whisper, Sullyoon could not have picked it up. Minju halts for a second, then her face turns beet red and she hides it behind her palms, while her eyes keep looking at your awfully-well played innocent expression. Worriedly, you reach for her face and Minju gasps. What does she expect? Certainly not what follows.
“Oh, there is some glue in your hair, Minju. Guess we should wash out the white stuff~”
With that said, you grab her hand and pull her out of her bedroom. To the surprise of Sullyoon, whose questions go unheard, you and Minju enter the upper floor bathroom. There you immediately find a wet towel and start to rub Minju’s hair, and with every second that you dishevel her hair, you also seem to dishevel her mind.
Minju is perplexed, trembling, unable to react to you, especially when you inch closer and really focus on that annoying spot. The two of you forgot to turn on the bathroom lights, so there is only the dim moonlight to reveal to you the absolute dream that are Minju’s eyes: full of love, uncertainty and want.
“I think I got it out,” you finally whisper and drop the towel. “Sorry for messing up your hair.”
Minju smiles softly: “N-no, thank you. You might have saved it, a-actually.”
“Minju—” A moment of silence, full of purpose, of tension, but you bask in it. You can hear Minju’s heart racing and if you’re honest, the muscle in your chest is pumping like crazy as well. “You, you are very beautiful, one of the prettiest girls on this planet.”
“Re-really!?”
“Yes. I wish I could
“Kiss your lips; they look so soft.”
They are so soft, no doubt about it, especially when they accept you so willingly at first and then won’t let go when you try to pull back a little. Minju is on cloud nine and she wants to stay. Her adorable hands hold onto your sleeves, while you hold the back of her head securely in the palm of your hand. There is no tongue movement, there is no tongue movement needed, because it all comes together for her—
A fairy tale moment, out of nowhere, for the girl with her crush.
But your play isn’t over. After a short while, you regretfully remove yourself from her lips and continue to hold her close, hand on the small of her back. When you look down you are greeted by a look—this look of mesmerized love, with teary eyes of joy and panting lips of desire on Minju’s flawless features. How could you want more?
This is how mankind moves forward: by wanting what they don’t yet have.
“Minju,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I—before we continue, and I really do want to—I have to tell you something.”
“Y-yes?”
“I like you, I really, really like you.
“But you know how multiple people can have the same crush? I, my heart, has this issue that—I, I like multiple people! I can never escape it, there is nothing I can do. That doesn’t mean that my love isn’t real—I just want to be honest with you.”
Minju, in the midst of all these surprises and twists and turns for her, looks surprisingly calm and nods carelessly. Of course she is a bit dazed, after all, your lips were just on hers and she can take them back just by getting on her toes, but this should still be a bit weird for her. At least, that is what you assumed.
“I-I don’t care,” she suddenly blurts out and her arms wrap around you tightly. “Why should I judge you? There are probably so many pretty girls out there. I-I’m just happy that you… noticed me.”
“Are you for real?” In a sudden surge of happiness, you lift Minju up and spin her around. “You are so wonderful, I know why I fell in love with you.”
This should wrap up your Oscar performance—well, it’s already beyond that. At this point the feelings for Minju feel more than just acted. How could they not? She is gorgeous, light, her lips are tender, her character adorable and you cannot escape what your heart is telling you: love her, because she loves you.
There is however still—
“Pl-please! Please love me too!”
A loud scream, and Sullyoon bursts into the room. You may not be able to see the correct colors of her face, but you know she is either pale because Minju ‘stole’ you from her or she is red all over because she thinks there is a chance, a tiny chance that you also like her. Nonetheless, all these thoughts become irrelevant, because Minju almost collapses from shock. You catch her before she is able to hit her head on the sink.
The bathroom door still rattles, but the three of you just stare at one another, eyes wide open. The situation is so absurd, you must be dreaming, dead or in heaven—all at the same time, Minju’s entire existence is in your arms and Sullyoon seems willing to join her. She is close, her hands folded as if she is begging for your love. Her breath is hot, right in your face and so unsteady.
“Sullyoon.” Minju’s voice is faint, not even a whisper, but it’s loud. It’s both a statement and a question, a question directed at you. Is this what you were talking about earlier? Could it really be that the two who have a crush on you, would not have to fight? To put it very simply: Do you love Sullyoon too?
At least tonight, you do.
“I—
“I do, actually.” Those few words have you out of breath, before you can continue, Sullyoon has taken a spot in your arms next to Minju. The speed with which your dreams come true is mind boggling, but you play it cool and hold both of them close, an arm around each of their waists.
“You mean it?” Sullyoon has never sounded this cute, not in class, not during breaks and definitely not tonight. Who can resist her with those pouty lips that adorn silky smooth, perfectly symmetrical features? “You really like me?”
“Yes, I do, I like you both. This, this has to be a dream.”
“What, uhm,” Minju stutters and looks at you, similar expression to Sullyoon, her eyes also beaming, her chin tilted towards you—their similarities become uncanny in this dimly lit bathroom. “What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” you whisper and smile.
“We still have a project to finish,” Sullyoon sighs and puts her head against your chest, which does not make for a good pillow with its constant up and down movement and Minju right next to her.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should finish it. Let’s focus and then maybe our thoughts are a bit more… sorted.” Both girls nod, but it takes some more convincing before they let you go. The fear that they could lose you to the other makes them stay a bit longer until you have to push through them. It’s a playful struggle, which is only resolved when the three of you go back to Minju’s room.
All is quiet for a good, productive thirty minutes. The cardboard sculpture is finally painted and read to dry, the text only needs a few more tweaks, the project is in its final stage. All you can think about, however, are your groupmates, especially when your sight drifts away from the task ahead to their faces, their hands, their hips.
“Minju, can you help me?” Sullyoon groans. “I need to finish, this bottom part is so hard!”
“Of course, let me just—put this here and this into that—do you think it fits now?”
“It still looks too big, don’t you think? Maybe we should stretch it—”
“Or we could share it? I think if we both do it, it will be better.”
Hit yourself on your forehead, because the brain behind it once again can only think of the lewd. Minju and Sullyoon are trying their best to format this text and split it into fair portions for the presentation—yet all you think about is how they admire your big cock, share it in between their parted lips and then, Minju helps Sullyoon to go down on it with her throat.
After you are all covered in her spit, Sullyoon would grab your base and put it on Minju’s folds, ease you into her and all kinds of moans would fill the room and alert all neighbors who are still awake.
“I think this is good,” Minju ultimately concludes and turns to you. “Do you want to take a look too?”
You shake your head. “Uhm, no, I’m sure it’s excellent. Wow, looks like we really finished it.”
“Okay, so.” Sullyoon spins around in her chair, hands hidden in between her thighs and everything vibrates. “Are we going to talk now about… our situation?”
“I think we are all adults, we can talk about it.” Minju fidgets a bit and looks at you. They are both waiting for you to say something, but you just smirk without a worry in the world and lay down on Minju’s bed.
“Sure, we can talk. Let’s be honest, be free. Don’t care what the rest things, just
“Tell me what you feel.”
Sullyoon pushes the chair closer to you with her feet and Minju sits down on her bed, less bold than Sullyoon, because her eyes are fixed on the other end of the mattress. You get her attention when you fingers lock with hers, but the first to speak up is Sullyoon.
“I think I have a crush on you. Two years ago it started and I can’t explain why, but—you grew very handsome during that time a-and you’re pretty smart, so—”
“I feel the same!” Minju suddenly shouts and her fingers squeeze yours tightly. “And sorry, I-I once took a picture of your, uhm, abs when you changed your shirt. It was stupid, I’ll delete it right now—”
You laugh and pull Minju on top of you. Now her gaze cannot escape yours anymore and she has to see the true awe in your eyes. A natural awe for her beauty, her kindness and the way her honesty reveals all those secret feelings.
“Delete them if you like,” you hum and place the palm of Minju’s hand on your abdomen while flexing your muscles. “But you can take some more high quality pictures, if you want to.”
Jealousy overtakes a formerly hesitant Sullyoon and she pounces onto the bed next to you. Her hands are still hidden in between her thighs, but you can see that she wants to touch what Minju is already groping.
Sullyoon doesn’t even have to ask. You grab her wrist and slowly guide it under your sweatshirt. Though she tries to act shocked and abashed, you can feel her digits roaming all over your abs greedily as she visibly drools. Minju had most of your attention until now. Now it’s Sullyoon’s turn to feel your love in the form of a wet kiss pressed right onto her already wet lips. Unlike Minju, she tries to go all in on the first go, but you quickly pull away with a chuckle and watch her eager tongue searching for your mouth.
“Sully, open your eyes,” you softly laugh at her and drag a finger over her flushed, tender cheek as she does so. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going anywhere. If you are okay with it, I can love you both with all my heart.”
“I want to share you,” she says with determination and immediately contradicts her statement by lunging at you and starting a torrential kiss that has Minju hiding her face behind her long, cascading hair. It’s all faux, because in the meantime, she has rolled up your sweatshirt to your chest. Gently she pokes your pecs and you giggle into the kiss with Sullyoon.
“Good to know we are all on the same page,” you finally voice your own feelings when Sullyoon backs off to catch her breath. “I think I could cuddle you both for the rest of the night and forget every worry, every task, every stupid responsibility ahead of us.”
Funny how your dreams come true, again. An arm around each of their waists, you pull Minju and Sullyoon deeper into the softness of pillows and blankets generously spread on Minju’s mattress. Both your cheeks are quickly peppered with kisses, cute, hesitant ones from Minju, from chin to ear and wild, playful ones from Sullyoon, from the edge of your collarbone to your lips. She seals them again and this time you can hear Minju become jealous with a loud huff.
This back and forth of envy, you see no way to disrupt it anytime soon. Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to. This dynamic pushes them further to reveal more of their love, so give them what they want. You are theirs to love and play with—but you will play with them too.
“Minju,” you say, your voice purposefully low and more serious than before. “You have such amazing hips. They are wide and look so perfect on you.”
You turn towards her and reach for the top of her skirt. Insert a couple fingers into it and let them glide along the waistband until you reach the outermost point of her hips. Minju tenses up when you begin to grab her hips, the skin of your palms right on her underwear, slipped into her skirt. You pull her even closer and she is back to holding onto your sleeves.
“Such nice hips.” Rub them, and Minju starts to rub herself on you, face on your bare chest and crotch on your thigh. Speaking of thighs, Sullyoon might have felt neglected for a second, so you find her mouth with ease and bully her tongue with yours while putting a hand on her inner thigh. Sullyoon shrieks the more you touch her jeans-clad legs, no matter if you go down to where her calves begin or if you go up to where her pussy is aching.
“Wow, Sully, your legs, your thighs are fantastic. I bet they are very soft.”
“T-touch them more, please,” Sullyoon softly whimpers and you nod. Minju is too enamored with her own thighs around yours, she does not realize her friend popping open her jeans and sliding them down. Your hesitation, your careful planning gets thrown out of the window when you slide your hand over her soft skin and go to bite her lips.
“They are the softest, damn, I could knead them all day long.” Your hot breath mixes with Sullyoon when you go from some basic thigh stimulation to cupping her sex and pressing your palm on her covered clit. “Your panties are cute too~”
No time to focus on Sullyoon’s embarrassed face, because Minju’s takes your entire view. You try to kiss her mouth but she backs off, even climbs off the bed and stands next to it. Both her hands firmly grasps the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turn white—that’s how hard she grabs it while her voice sounds absolutely love drunk:
“I-I have cute panties too,” she complains and lifts her skirt up, higher than you thought she would dare to. Not only you, her crush, that can see this most private part, but her friend can as well. Your eyes are glued to the small, pink garment with its tiny wet spot at the front, very cute indeed, maybe even cuter than Sullyoon’s baby blue panties which at this point become ruined on your hand.
“They are really cute, Minju.” You smile, she cracks a small smile. “I did not know you two had such lewd minds and wild fantasies.”
“Can we see y-your underwear now?” Sullyoon avoids your statement with a pout while simultaneously confirming it. Minju joins her nods, skirt still held high, her panties just a bit wetter at the thought of you. “Yes, please, we-we want to see it, it’s only fair!”
“Hm, how about a deal then, my two lewd girlfriends: I’m all yours, you can undress me and play with me until you are satisfied, but first you give me a show. I want you two undressing each other slowly. Sounds like a deal?”
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At this point, everything is so out of control, you might as well ask for a favor that usually would get you kicked out. After all, this isn’t porn, not every girl is into girls and into threesomes, but Minju and Sullyoon have shown to be so needy for you, their libido will take over all reasoning. To no surprise, both only hesitate for a second.
“I’m okay with that,” Sullyoon whispers. “You too, Minju?” She leaves the spot in your arm and walks behind her friend. “Are you okay with me touching you?”
“S-sure.” They both get into it quickly. Minju drops her arms and lets them dangle while her needy face is directed at you. Sullyoon makes sure you can see her fingers play with the waistband of Minju’s skirt, just like you did, and she teases you by only pulling down one side, then the other. It’s only when you groan in disapproval that she moves upwards and pulls Minju’s sweatshirt over her head.
You totally expected a bra behind this comfy, cotton barrier, but no: Minju is wearing a white shirt underneath and the tease just continues. Sullyoon finds the lowest button first and works her way up, sending chills down Minju’s spine.
An amazing midriff, toned abs around a cute little navel; you can’t help but ogle when Sullyoon presses her fingers into them and gasps in surprise. No words need to be spoken—that’s probably how Minju likes it more as well. She struggles to relax, especially when the final button pops and her shirt opens like curtains to reveal her bra, the same color as her panties, erect nipples visible through the thin garment.
“May I?” Sullyoon asks, basically blowing the question into Minju’s ear as her hands already fiddle with the clasp of the bra. The sound of silence is nothing but hot breaths and the faint creaking of Minju’s bed as you adjust yourself to get closer with her still-covered breasts.
Still covered.
Still covered.
“O-okay,” Minju whispers, whines, it doesn’t matter, you finally get to see her upper body in all its glory, and you find glory to be an understatement: her breasts are perfectly symmetrical, not saggy but quite perky and a bit smaller than your hands. You could cover them up and knead them without much effort; it takes effort however to not look absolutely overwhelmed as your dreamy eyes focus on erect nipples and round arolae.
“What do you think?” Sullyoon asks the question with an answer that is obvious but hard to put into words.
“Minju, your body looks…
“... very, very hot. I-I’ve never seen something so flawless.”
“And you haven’t even seen what’s behind this~” Sullyoon’s voice is sultry as she taps Minju’s skirt. She once again teases you, her smooth hand under the skirt and once you hear Minju shriek, you know what she is about to do.
Sullyoon removes those stained panties, while Minju still wears her skirt. The miniscule petite underwear wraps around her ankles while her dainty digits wrap around the hem of her skirt. At this point, your drool cannot be held back. You need to see her most private place.
“Let, let me do it!” Minju says with confidence and as if she’s as impatient as you are, pulls the skirt up and shuts her eyes. Sullyoon chuckles lightly and gets a hold of Minju’s hips, while you are about to dive into those wet folds, small and pink and definitely untouched. You notice a small strip of hair above her clit which looks like it should twitch at any moment. Minju’s visible arousal becomes your visible arousal and before you can end the teasing session and start a new session, Sullyoon interrupts you:
“Shouldn’t Minju undress me now?”
“Wha—oh… yeah, sure,” you respond and hold your horny horses. Minju looks a bit dazed when she drops the skirt and opens her eyes again. You help her gain focus by reaching for her hands and holding them. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Minju, you are perfect down there as well.”
“Re-really?”
“Yes, I’d never lie to the girls I love.
“Now, why don’t you help Sullyoon get out of those… tight jeans?”
Sullyoon smirks. Without you noticing it, she pulled her pants back up and made sure that they showed the outline of her shapely butt. She is a tease like no one before or after; fortunately, Minju seems to not get what teasing is about: with you still right beside her, she puts all her strength at pulling the denim down—the denim and Sullyoon’s panties.
“Eh, what are you—Minju!” Sullyoon complains loudly.
“So-sorry, did I do it wrong?”
“You, you were too fast!” The shyness returns to Sullyoon’s face as she buries it in the crook of her arm.
“No reason to fight,” you ease the flames of conflict burning before you. “I think Minju did a great job and your butt is great, Sullyoon.”
“No, don’t say that, it’s too big!”
“I’m gonna say it again.” You emphasize your words with a good squeeze on both her cheeks while Minju’s wide eyes are on the dumpy before her. “You have a fantastic butt, not too big, definitely not too small, perfect.”
Your kneading hands leave Sullyoon a mewling mess, speechless, even as Minju goes and undresses her further. It’s all a lot quicker, the top is removed easily, the bra falls with a simple click and Sullyoon is the first to be fully nude. She stops your continued handsy attacks on her ass with a spin around. Unlike Minju, her pussy is freshly shaven and her entire body looks like it was made just for this moment.
“Someone is prepared,” you say with a smile and drag a finger up her midriff to her tits which are nice handfuls of their own, similar in size and shape to Minju’s.
“You are mean,” Sullyoon pouts and suddenly starts to embrace you. You gasp. Her body is almost scorching hot. “I waited so long for this.”
“I bet you couldn’t look better. No dream, no imagination can make your body look any sexier.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”
The sound of someone crawling onto the bed gets your attention. Minju lays next to you, her skirt finally kicked away and she stretches her arms forward in search of your embrace. That poor girl is desperate, however, you don't make it to her before Sullyoon unzips your pants.
“It’s only fair if we get to see you too, right, Minju?” Sullyoon asks, her tone making it clear that the answer cannot differ from her needs.
“Should I strip for you too?” you say with a witty smile, but Minju comes to Sullyoon’s aid.
“Enough teases, I—I can barely think!”
The striptease must have set something in motion within Minju: her shyness is only apparent on her fully red cheeks, her hands have already taken a different path. Boldly, they yank down both your pants and briefs in strong pulls, past your erection, which comes back swinging at her. Minju dodges it, because she can’t stop looking at Sullyoon behind you, arms resting on your shoulder, lips suckling at your neck.
“So big!” Minju can’t hold back her shock and awe at the shape, the bend, the size.
“Yeah,” Sullyoon dreamily adds. “We really have to share him from now on.”
Things are out of control. Every further plan of slowly getting to your dream threesome scenario are useless, laughable, when both your new lovers shove you down into the mattress and somehow find space on and in between your legs to intently stare at and past your phallus. Minju and Sullyoon are often not on the same page, sometimes polar opposites in class, but tonight they are more than united.
While Minju is in awe at how you throb and seemingly still grow into the air, Sullyoon eagerly spits into her hand and slowly spreads her saliva on your shaft. The thoughtfulness, carefulness and softness of her fingers make every pump of hers fade into absurdity. Right from the get go, Sullyoon’s handjob is already on the level of jerking yourself off.
“Have you ever done this, Minju?”
“N-no, never. Not even close.”
“I—only have with not real dicks.” The two blush, but there is no need to intervene. Unlike in most classes, they are eager to study for themselves, learn new tricks and test them on you.
“How about you start down at his… sac, while I go from the top?” Sullyoon suggests and Minju nods. However, you still see hesitance in her eyes, probably because she is afraid of screwing things up or making it awkward.
“They are full for you, Minju,” you softly coo and brush her hair as she almost puts her lips on them. Okay, maybe she needs the tiniest of pushing to finally— “Put your lips on them, give them a kiss. Nothing to be afraid of.”
Sullyoon is definitely not afraid. She wraps her mouth around your cockhead and begins to twirl her tongue around it. The taste of your precum must have urged her on, because she hums happily and sucks loudly. It’s like your cock is the straw in her favorite drink, that's how aggressively she sucks and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Meanwhile Minju sneakily tries to find the best spot to wrap her lips around your crown jewels, her adorable expression unpurified when she decides to go for it.
“Oh fuck!” you groan and your body arches involuntarily. More of your manhood is pressed onto their faces, into their eagerly drooling holes; it makes you wonder if you even need their pussies if this already feels so heavenly. The eagerness and playfulness of Sullyoon paired with the gentleness and sweetness of Minju makes for a double blowjob that could drain you embarrassingly fast.
Something inside your stomach tells you to just release it. Let them suck, let them play, until you just release it all over them without worry in deep bliss. Before that happens, you have to get back at them. It would be quite the disappointing night if this was your only load and they wouldn’t have any stimulation until then. You have to come up with a plan, while Sullyoon pops you from her mouth with a deep moan.
“Minju, let’s switch,” she suggests. “He tastes really good, you have to try it. Don’t worry about the size, I couldn’t take it either.”
“Oh, okay, his, his balls are quite hard. Does this mean they are full?”
“Fuck, yes,” you interrupt their horny conversation, ready to announce your plan. A plan that will surely distract you and them to the point all of you will have the best of fun. “After you’ve switched, how about you turn your butts towards me? You’re doing a fantastic job, I want to return the favor.”
They lock eyes, then look at you and nod. Sullyoon has this grin on her lips, as if she can’t wait for your fingers and tongue on her labia. Minju, again, might look quite abashed, but she is quicker than Sullyoon when it comes to showing you her behind. The sight of her bare ass, tiny pink pussy and thighs spilling out of black stockings has you drooling, almost neglecting Sullyoon’s equally remarkable offer.
Sadly, you only have one tongue and so you dive into Minju’s cunt first. In what has to be the most mind-melting moment in her life, the beautiful girl sucks in your addictive taste while for the first time, someone touches her virgin sex. Minju moans around your length while you lick all the way from her clit to her asshole in long quick swipes. You watch her body tremble and decide to put an arm around it so she doesn’t sway away from your mouth, which digs into her sensitive folds.
Speaking of sensitive folds, your other hand has found more of those. Sullyoon’s innie, beautifully smooth, spills wetness forth and guides you to the well-lubricated entrance. You don’t even have to see anything to slip your middle finger inside her. Sullyoon gasps and nuzzles her soft cheek against your balls, while a little bit higher, Minju has lost all shame.
“Yummy, yummy,” she babbles every half second when your cock leaves her mouth. The two of you seem to share the same thought: These perverted fluids are delicious, I better get as much as I can.
In your mutual delight, Sullyoon momentarily rips you out of it, just to make things even better. She bunches up Minju’s hair in a hand and starts to put her lips on Minju’s. Their tongues battle, luckily your tip is there to separate them, though it does not want peace: it wants all out war.
For this brilliant idea, you decide to switch and bury your face in Sullyoon’s ass then quickly move to her cunt and pierce it open with your wet muscle, the same muscle Minju’s twitching hole misses. She has to finish on your hand, so you decide to twirl her exposed clit in between your fingers.
The greatest trio in the world's most renowned orchestra could not compare to the harmonies your different moans produce. They are unfiltered, not played for a camera, not exaggerated—but still so loud, booming, climactic, when Sullyoon shutters. Her juices gush into your mouth, more when she leans back and presses her pussy on your face.
Minju follows quickly, almost sitting on and riding your hand as it lays there, fingers tapping upwards, against her nub. Her orgasm is not as wet, but you feel the bed shake when she cums and seemingly goes to another reality. You’re glad she physically stays, her tongue still eager at your slit—and Sullyoon is on the other side, making out with her and your cockhead.
You're incredibly hard, an iron-like rod, a tip that is purple and sensitive yet absolutely numb and only begging for what might as well be the best and final release. The thought of this ever happening again does not cross your mind, a void of nothing but pleasure. You have to give it your all now and so you buckle upwards in between their sandwiching lips and explode without warning.
“Fuuuck,” Sullyoon groans. Minju yelps, a high pitch as she still rides out her own orgasm on your palm. Your first is bombastic, a shot up in the air that rains down on their faces while the rest is equally distributed on their tender cheeks, silky lips, hot tongues. No need to mention that a lot ends up in places where the clean up will be more annoying: hair, bedsheets, even clothes have stains of white on them.
Who cares, really? Not Minju, who still laps up what leaks out of your aching, overstimulated cock. Not Sullyoon, who is out of breath and uses your thigh as a pillow. Certainly not you who literally passed out for a second and only returns because Minju sucks too strongly.
“Ouch, fuck, Min-Minju it hurts—”
“You tasht sho good, I want more.”
“Then, ahhh, get it from Sullyoon’s face, I-I don’t have anything anymore.”
Minju listens and obidies, unable to remember her shy nature when she sucks on Sullyoon’s skin to get all of your spunk off of her. Sullyoon is unfazed, mewling a bit before finding your gaze. She smirks and suddenly, the tip of her index finger touches your balls.
“You're lying,” she whispers. “You have at least one more in you.”
“I-I don’t think so.” Shake your head to emphasize your words, but Sullyoon emphasizes her belief more thoroughly by pumping from your base up. Slow strokes to keep the pressure in it, she makes sure to keep her mouth a literal breath away, a hot breath that takes your breath away. Your eyelids shutter.
“Are you sure he can keep going?” Minju cutely asks, the final remnants of cum she collected from Sullyoon’s forehead on her finger which she promptly puts in her mouth and cleans thoroughly. “I could really go for another.”
“Don’t you want him to take your virginity?” Sullyoon’s question somehow has the blush return to Minju’s ears, she turns around abashed. It’s unbelievable: a second ago, she was the biggest cumslut, now she is afraid of what feels like a logical next step if it weren’t for…
“We can’t, Sully,” you say and reach for both their heads and pat them. “Not going to do it if we don’t have condoms, and maybe we should take some time? This is all a bit—”
“Crazy?” Sullyoon climbs off the bed and searches through her backpack, to the confusion of both you and Minju. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so you enjoy seeing her ass in the squatting position. “Is it crazy that I have these?”
She throws you a pack of condoms. You blink.
“Is it crazy that I want you to take my virginity tonight?” Sullyoon sneaks back like a predator, adorable looking, dangerously feeling up your thigh to your once again hard length. You don’t let her have her way, grab her wrists and look at Minju.
“You are crazy. Look in whose bed we are! Minju, what do—”
“I-I’m fine with it!” Minju cups her cheeks and her gaze can’t fix on either your or Sullyoon’s face. “I can give you privacy, if you want.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sullyoon laughs. “You should join us. I’d let you go first, if you want.” She licks her lips and even with her arms being held down by you, she gets her flat tummy to rub on your manhood, close to her heat which you can no longer resist.
“I’ll get some water, you… do you.” Minju’s words are hastily spoken, her sentence finished when she is already out of the door. This settles it for you. You’re going to fuck Sullyoon; her first time is yours and the way she rips open the wrapping of the first condom leaves no doubt in your mind:
This girl loves you and wants you now.
“How do you want it?” you ask and roll the thin, barely-there rubber down your cock.
“I want you to push in me, push my body into the bed, slowly at first. Be careful until I tell you to go faster. Fuck me, hug me, do it so good and hard that I forget that there was ever a time where you didn’t love me.”
“Sounds—
Let go of her wrists and Sullyoon lets her amazing body fall into the cushions. Her lewd expression shifts; nervousness, only a little, seriousness, a little more—thrill, endless amounts of thrill. The same counts for you.
“—good. Spread your legs for me, Sullyoon. Breathe and relax.”
Those wonderful legs not only spread for you, they actually wrap around you, their smoothness suddenly suffocating and now it’s you who needs to breathe. Your cock slips into her so easily, your tip parts her, enters and if it weren’t for her wince you would’ve gone hilt deep right away. Sullyoon’s eagerness momentarily comes to a halt as she realizes that you are a bit different from her toys.
“Wow,” she mumbles mindlessly. “You’re so wide and hard and warm—nothing like a… a…”
“Like a dildo?” you tease her and gradually drag your tip along her walls and then out of the blissful heat. Her legs make sure to push you back in and now she is even tighter. Sullyoon wants you to stay, you can’t leave without your permission. “Tell me when it hurts.”
“Actually—”
Her digits find your nape and pull you down to where her lips pucker.
“—I want you to hammer your cock into me now. Mold my pussy in its shape. Hold back only if I say stop.”
“Got it.” Kiss her lips. “I love you, Sully.”
Sometimes, you need to let go and let the reckless abandon of lust take over your body. Your hips become a tool for pleasure, as they gyrate, then move back and forth to bury your length deeper in Sullyoon’s cunt. Then you copy and paste their movements and repeatedly do them with your tongue as well to the point your new girlfriend desperately clings to you. It’s not only the sweat that sticks to you; her entire being keeps you glued down.
You pump, pump, pump into Sullyoon until you notice her eyes rolling back into her head whenever you hit that spot. The sweet spot that will eventually make her cum. Good thing that you already blew a load and that all your sensitivity has subsided—it gives you the power that makes you feel like a superhero, a superhuman. You will not stop at anything, you want to make her cum with just your dick and so you have to fuck harder.
“Oh God, you’re so big, so fucking big and perfect,” Sullyoon moans. As a thank you, you place a hickey somewhere on her neck. In hindsight, a bad idea. All your classmates will see it, unless she wears turtlenecks from now on. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so good.”
“Your pussy, Sully, it’s, it’s so tight. You’re choking me.”
“Spread me open more then, fuck, fuck, I want you to make me full.”
Hidden from the world, you place a hand on Sullyoon’s abdomen. Not to touch that tummy that alone can make boys fall instantly, though it feels nice to rub your fingers across it—no, your goal is further down, right above where your cock pounds into that wet cunt. Talk about wet, Sullyoon’s juices have spread everywhere, Minju will smell her friend in this room for days to come.
And talk about Minju: she has just returned, a huge bottle of water in her hand and eyes wide open. There is no shock at the sight of Sullyoon moaning and bending under the never ending attack of your hands, tongue and of course cock. Minju is more fascinated than anything else, you know she could watch for hours if only you didn’t notice her.
“Oh, hey,” you gasp in between groans, but your greeting is cut short by Sullyoon’s deafening scream.
“Minju, Minju, oh fuck, you have to try this. He is so good~
“Yes! My clit, right there! Oh my God, I’m going to cum, you make me c-cum!”
Sullyoon pulsates throughout her pussy, her arms, her fingers. Those pointy nails of hers dig painful bruises in your back while your blurry gaze tries to make out her face in haze, but all you see is the shape of her mouth being agape. She’s suddenly so quiet, except for her pussy, which tries to start your own orgasm. You won’t give it to her, not when Minju stands there, her stocking-clad thighs rubbing together, visibly stained with her nectar.
“You guys…” she whispers and watches closely as you pull out of Sullyoon and wipe away some beads of sweat that have formed on your temple. You’re not a construction worker, but your work was hard and it paid off: Sullyoon could not be closer to heaven above the clouds, no skyscraper or airplane can take her there.
“Can I have some of that?” you weakly ask and point at the water bottle. You’re quick to squeeze out a huge portion when Minju hands you the plastic container. From the corner of your eye you see Sullyoon, back from her crazy trip and you offer her some of the water. She rejects and suddenly, full of energy, jumps up and behind Minju.
“Minju, you have to try it.” Minju shrieks when Sullyoon places her hands on the hourglass body. “He feels amazing, I know you will love it.” All her fingers carelessly drift down to where Minju’s full thighs spill out of hr black thigh-highs.
“B-but didn’t he, like, fi-finish in you? He must be exhausted.” Minju’s excuse is met with a scoff from Sullyoon.
“Look at that thing.” Sullyoon points in between your legs. That’s right, you’re still solid and throbbing, aching to go for more. “He is a stud, he can go forever. He will make you cum on your first time, Minju~”
“I-I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to listen to her,” you tell Minju and take another sip from the bottle. “We can do something else if you don’t feel ready yet.”
Your words might be honest, but Minju does not get a fair chance to consider this other option. In front of her sits her crush, a guy with a big, super tasty cock. Behind her is a friend, mind controlled by lust, eager to share this big, super tasty cock. The sight of you teases her, Sullyoon’s hands on her hips, butt, crotch tease her. Can she really go for it now? Make this crazy night become nothing but madness, a story worth telling but no one will ever hear it?
“I want… you inside of me.”
“Perf—”
“I want you to cum inside of me!”
You gulp, thoughts tripping over each other. Even Sullyoon is perplexed and frozen. “R-really?” you both ask the still-virgin girl.
“No, like, in-in a condom of course! I just want to know… that my pussy felt good for you, that I can make you cum. I don’t want to get pregnant yet of course—oh God, did you think that?”
“Well…”
“Doesn’t matter!” Sullyoon suddenly laughs this chaotic misunderstanding off and pushes Minju on your lap. “Here, Minju, put a new condom on his cock. We don’t do creampies, but I totally get what you want.”
“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” Minju apologizes awkwardly, but you quickly forget about it when she expertly puts the rubber on your tip and has your entire phallus covered in no time. Her dainty fingers feel fantastic on your base, which she holds steady, awaiting you to do something with it. You can’t make up your mind however: should you pick her up and throw her into the sheets to fuck her like Sullyoon? Maybe spin her around and fuck her doggy, ass up, that beautiful face buried in pillows as you burry yourself inside her for the first time?
Sullyoon helps you come up with a third solution. She grabs your wrists and firmly puts them on Minju’s tiny waist and instinctively, you lift her up and over your cock. Minju looks down at your manhood and mewls, ready yet not ready to take it. Her starlit eyes, a few centimeters away, look down into yours and you swear you don’t want to hurt. You have to do everything to make this the best thing for her.
Give Minju a firm kiss on her trembling lips as both you and Sullyoon gently place her entrance on your spear. At first, she is scared, her body tensing up, but with your warmth radiating on her warm folds, she suddenly seems eager. More and more inches disappear into her and you leave her lips to hear her ultimate moan when her virginity disappears.
“Ouh, so big, so much, ahhh!”
“Does it hurt?” you ask her.
“A-a bit, but it’s fine—Sullyoon, what are you doing!? Don’t look at it!”
Sullyoon kneels between your legs. When she breathes out through her nose, your balls feel her hot and horny breath. She completely ignores Minju’s words and stares at how you leave and re-enter Minju’s pussy. “Minju, this… this is the best sight! Trust me, it feels good when he goes faster. Your pussy will feel so good.”
“This is embarrassing,” Minju mewls again, her hips firmly pushed down on your lap, almost the entirety of your cock inside her. You might not feel powerless in this position, not at all in fact, but you want this absolute beauty of a woman to do how she likes it. If she just wants to sit on you and slowly move her lower body in circles, that’s fine, if she wants to ride you with heavy thrusts, that would be to die for—
But Minju unexpectedly picks a third option. Seriously, these girls are full of surprises. She puts her hands on your shoulders while yours instinctively hover down to her hips and then she tightens around your cock again before moving up and down, up and down, up and down with perfect body control, at the same pace.
Minju rides you, fucks you, like she has done it a thousand times. You can hardly believe she never had a toy inside her. Every breath becomes more chaotic, her features disheveled, her tongue numb. It hangs out of her mouth, a perfectly ripe weak spot for you to attack. You suck on it, bully it in your mouth and Minju grabs your throat, accidentally choking you. No, no, she has to keep doing that. She has to suffocate you, with her pussy, with her fingers, with her stunning visuals as she fucks herself silly.
“Sullyoon, fuck,” you both simultaneously curse when the forgotten girl starts to lick all the way from your perineum over to your cock and Minju’s folds to Minju’s butthole, then back down, as if it were the longest, tastiest lollipop. She is not irritated by all the sweat, the lewd juices and Minju’s ass bouncing on your dick—Sullyoon laps it all up and even giggles when she hears both of you struggle with the added pleasure.
Minju gradually loses speed, which is of course not bad, after all, her cunt still tries to suck your Sullyoon-kissed balls dry, but you notice how completely out of breath and overstimulated she seems. With unfocused puppy eyes she tries to apologize for her lack of stamina, but instead of lamenting, you find a quick solution—a solution that sends Minju straight into her first ever crazy orgasm.
Hock your arms underneath her legs, securely hold her and stand up. Sullyoon gasps in surprise, her tongue still in Minju’s ass, which suddenly shakes when you start to fuck. Minju screams in bliss, covers your crotch in girl cum as you lose your grip on reality but never your grip on her hips. Minju can barely hold onto your nape as you pound her and send orgasm after orgasm into her.
“Ahhh, oh my God, it’s, it’s coming again!”
She deserves so many more so you steady your feet and thrust upwards harder, faster, gape her cunt wide open, all for Sullyoon to see. She remembers that you speared her open in a similar way, your cock hard and reckless. She starts to touch herself while sucking on whatever part of your base isn’t currently inside Minju. In the meantime, Minju’s stockings burn themselves in your memory. She always has to wear them, they look so hot, seductive, like they were made to cover her legs.
“So big, too much, too much, I—”
Minju explodes again. This time her ability to speak is replaced by mindless moans, which sound a bit silly through her constantly cracking voice. You look down and admire the ripple of her thighs, the way her small tits bounce up and down. Her hot cunt feels ready for a load, a load it will not directly receive unfortunately.
Unfortunately? No, it’s good! You can’t risk getting Minju pregnant, that would be insane.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan.
“Let me help you~” Sullyoon’s lewd voice and even lewder lips push you over the edge as she puts your balls in her mouth and sucks on them loudly. The added pressure makes you unload into the condom, testing its durability. Luckily it passes the test and Minju still gets to have that feeling of hotness inside her.
She smiles weakly, but cannot really react. Her body goes limp in your arms as you slip out of her wide open hole. You carefully drop her onto the bed, a bed that you definitely need too now. Soft sheets to finally rest in after this night of projects and—other projects so to say.
“Fuck that was insane. What’s going to happen now?” you ask no one in particular. Minju is already gone, deep in a dream.
“What do you think?” Sullyoon suddenly says and lays next to you in bed, her fingers pulling away the condom. When she sees the ridiculous amount of cum still covering your dick, she is quick to clean it up with her tongue. It seems that she is just as addicted to your taste as Minju.
“Fuck, Sully—”
“We have to do this every week.”
“Wh-what?”
“Aren’t we your girlfriends now? Don’t you want this—
“To happen again~?”
Yes, they are your girlfriends now—and yes: you have fallen for them.
Who could blame you?
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mockerycrow · 7 months
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UNDER THE SURFACE (Ghost x GN!Reader)
ghost masterlist — ghost icon by @yumethefrostypanda concept post here!
authors note; this is not my best work tbh, i wish i could improve it somehow, but i’m hoping you guys will like it anyway. Pretty sure this is my longest singular post, too! 4.7k words :-)
[WARNINGS: angst, spiraling thoughts, near panic attack, hurt/comfort, inaccurate medical stuff, vague descriptions of physical violence, very brief mention of possible self harm.]
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YOU WERE USED to Simon being gone for long periods of time; you have been his roommate for two years now, nearly three. You know he’s military, it’s part of the reason why you were able to score being his roommate in the first place. At first, it was a very awkward arrangement. Simon himself wasn’t a very awkward person, no—he’s actually quite charismatic in his own way, a way that you could get along with. One of the reasons why the arrangement was strange at first was because you weren’t exactly able to get a one on one tour of the flat before agreeing, but you were a bit more trusting of this mysterious man because a mutual friend—Kate—sent you his contact information, considering you were looking for a new place to live since your lease was up.
Simon’s flat was void of any personality, really. Yes, you could tell by the way he organized everything that he had been in the military, probably for quite a while—but there weren’t any photos. No gaming systems; you discovered he did have a bookcase of quite a few books, but it was covered in a layer of dust. Despite this, when examining the books he owned, you could tell they were worn down—definitely loved. It made you smile a bit, seeing the different variety of books. A bit of personality, you think. Besides his room, it was like a completely furnished, no personality flat. You weren’t allowed in his room, not unless he gave you explicit permission, which you honored his boundaries. Simon was kind enough to offer you a space in his home—but you know he was quite weary of you, which was understandable. He helped you move in and you could tell he was watching you and your body language. Searching you for danger—but he slowly warmed up to you.
Another thing that you discovered that Simon was quite emotionally.. constipated. Over the first few months, you could tell he didn’t sleep as much as he probably should. He was always awake before you, and you would always find him in the kitchen, sipping on a hot cup of tea. After a few weeks of this routine—Simon rising much earlier than you, you figured maybe he couldn’t break the military’s strict routines.. Until one night you woke up from the sound of his heavy footsteps walking down the hall. You tensed in your bed and you sat up because Simon was silent as a ghost all the time. You didn’t even know if it was him at first, so in your half-asleep panicked state, you felt for your phone and you texted Simon’s contact, asking a messily texted “is that you walking around?” You blink your sleepiness away and wipe your eye as your phone vibrates with a “yeah. sorry.”
That was the first time you got some notion that Simon was thrown off guard from something, after another week of awakening from his noises, you began to realize that he was experiencing night terrors every couple of nights. His nightmares were never a thing you two discussed, exactly.. It was more of an unspoken rule to not talk about it. You would occasionally find yourself in the kitchen around the time you calculated when Simon would wake up—and you were right nearly every time—and you just.. coincidentally made him a cup of tea. To Simon’s pleasant surprise, you managed to get his tea right every single time. You’ve had your fair share of night terrors, so you knew how it could be sometimes. You wanted to do something nice for him, and he seemed flustered every time.
It took you a while to get used to him being gone for long periods of time. Simon appreciated that you never questioned too deeply into his career, even the times he would come home sporting a new injury, you were always willing to play doctor for him. Simon saw the concern in your eyes and sometimes he would share small stories of what happened, or maybe to get you to stop thinking about his injuries, a small story about his teammates. You slowly learned their names over the course of a year and a half, and you learned Simon’s rank as well. He is a lieutenant, and there’s a man called Captain Price, another man named Sergeant Kyle Garrick, and one more man named Sergeant John MacTavish, who Simon referred to as “Johnny” fondly.
It wasn’t common that Simon talked about work, which is the reason why it took about a year and a half to even get the information you did out of him. Over the time you’ve lived with him, you had decorated the flat to feel more comfortable and home-y. Simon only had a few requests, which you honored, and one of them was no pictures of him with his face showing. You shot him a curious and questioning look, but as always—you didn’t question him, and he was very thankful. You had gotten a few indoor plants as well that didn’t need much caring for and you wanted to liven up the place, y’know? You were okay with Simon not sharing much about his past or his work, because he was willing to listen to your little rambles about your interests and work. You were a bit hesitant, but Simon was very emotive and he never seemed annoyed or brushed you off.
Despite Simon’s reluctance to share anything of his own, he always heard you out if you needed to vent about something. He made sure you knew you could talk to him, even on days where you felt like you had no one to go to. You spent an entire night with him, just talking about anything and everything. It was the first real conversation you felt like you have had with anyone in such a long time. It was also the first night Simon really saw you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed from uncomfortableness, the vulnerability being nearly too much to handle; something he could relate to on a personal level. So when you started showing these signs, he knew exactly when to change the subject. Simon quickly realized how to read you, and he somehow knew what you needed at different moments.
Simon flies into the airport late at night with a small duffel bag, tagged as a military bag. He sends you a quick “be home soon.” text. Simon doesn’t expect you to answer due to it being around 3 in the morning, and you indeed don’t answer him. He catches a taxi to your shared flat. Simon collects his things from the taxi before paying the driver and sending them off, and Simon lets out a slow breath as he takes in the achingly familiar sight of the place he lives in. He tugs the hood that remains sitting over his head closer to his face, which is covered by a black surgical mask. His hand tightens on the straps of the duffel bag before he approaches the flat building, taking out his keys as he approaches the elevator. Once Simon reaches the third floor, he wastes no time getting to the front door, and he isn’t sure why, but his heart is pounding inside of his chest.
Simon unlocks both the top lock and the doorknob to enter the flat—something he had taught you to do every single time. He pockets his keys as he enters and Simon pauses for a moment because he can’t put his finger on it, but something feels off the second he glanced inside. His eyes trail the living room which is clean, not one thing out of place. Simon takes a deep breath and he doesn’t brush off the weird feeling, because even when there’s no evidence something happened—he’s usually right. The blanket on the couch is perfectly folded and laid over the back cushions, the mini bookcase by the TV is dusted as always, your shoes.. Are not by the front door, but a different pair are..? These either are not your shoes, or they are new. You always warned Simon about bringing people over, and you definitely would’ve told him this time. The lamp is on in the living room, but it seems the lights are out everywhere else. Simon silently goes through his routine when he gets back late at night—taking his jacket off and hanging it up, he leaves his boots by the door, and he drops his keys into the dish.
Next step to his routine is to step into the kitchen and get a cup of actually good quality tea, unlike the shit the military provides him. He fills up the electric kettle and sets a timer on it, grabbing his favorite mug and the box of his favorite tea from the cabinets. Simon glances down the dark hall—he’s seeking for a sign of life from you because you’re usually getting up around this time to greet him. No matter what, you always seem to know when he returns—yet you aren’t leaving your room. There’s no light emitting from the hall nor underneath the doors, and fuck, it’s eating at him. Something is wrong—and what the fuck is it? Simon stands there for a moment, turning his head to watch the blue light blinking on the electric kettle. He watches it blink slowly as he tries to rack his brain for what could be wrong—maybe those shoes are someone else’s, but he could just have a stern conversation with you about it later. Maybe you came back from drinking with friends—no, if that was the case, he knows for a fact your belongings would be everywhere, maybe even a spilled glass of water in the kitchen. He’s had to clean that up a couple of times.
He raises his wrist and pulls up his sleeve a bit to look at his digital watch; it’s nearly 0400 now. Simon puts his hands on the counter, leaning his body weight against it. Did something happen at work, maybe that’s why it feels off? You’ve always had a commanding presence like he has, so maybe— “Fuck.” Simon hisses quietly, hooking a finger into the strap of his black face mask and he rips it off, tossing it without care onto the counter. He leans forward and checks the kettles timer for a second, and then he’s walking towards the hall. Simon passes by his room and he walks up to yours, and he tries to turn the doorknob to peak in to check on you, but—it’s locked? Simon lets out a harsh breath before trying the door again, and yeah, it’s locked. Simon swears under his breath and he knocks on the door, his stomach twisting and turning. Something is wrong, very very wrong, very fucking wrong—
You unlock the door and you open it just enough for you to peak out, and you use your phone flashlight to shine it in Simon’s face. He squints and puts his hand up, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Hey—you locked your door.” He points out quietly, and you’re just staring at him, your eyes wide and alert. Simon’s anxiety lessens, but your reaction doesn’t make it go away. “Y’alright?” Simon drawls out, his hand on the wood panel of the door. You let out a harsh breath and you let go of your phone, letting out a quiet, “Simon..” before you suddenly pull your door completely open, and you wrap your arms around his thick torso into a hug. Simon swears his heart jumps into his throat and then into his stomach, bouncing back into his chest because you hugged him. You two were never particularly touchy like that, maybe a fleeting touch here or two, usual drunken affection from you—but you barely ever hugged him like this, even when he returned from deployments. Your touch burns hot through his clothes, and he knows you wouldn’t touch him without asking, so when you do? He wraps an arm around you, his free arm resting on your shoulder. “Hey..” Simon breathes out, lost for words.
You don’t hold on long enough for the uncomfortable worry to creep up his spine just yet. You rip yourself away from him like he burned you, his hands falling to his sides. You offer a tight, weak smile—one that you could easily play off as a sign of fatigue. Simon’s breath stutters as he watches your hands linger near your chest in a subconscious defensive gesture, your fingers closing into a fist for a moment; as if you’re uncomfortable, almost overstimulated. Simon feels the way for the light switch and he flips it on, and your room looks normal—but you look.. off. You look a bit clammy, almost like you’re sick or bouncing off the walls with anxiety. His eyes flick to your fingers and the skin besides your thumbnail and your middle finger are picked to all hell, and you just.. don’t seem right. All of these.. signs, you’re showing are actually very subtle—he just notices everything about you. Simon knows what food you favor, what your favorite color is, what social situations what you tick, what makes you mad—he knows it all. “Three months went by slow,” You murmur, trying to start a conversation. Simon’s eyes narrow at you for a moment as he watches you back up to your bed; no, you don’t turn around, you back up. You don’t turn your back to Simon at all. Fuck. He watches you lift your mattress, causing him to lift an eyebrow. “They did,” Simon confirms. “What happened while I was gone?”
This wasn’t an unusual question for Simon to ask; but it had a completely different meaning to you this time. You feel your muscles tense as you grab something from under your mattress, and you put it back down. It glints from the overhead light in your bedroom—a.. pocket knife of some sort, a switchblade perhaps. Simon’s eyes narrow at how you pocket it oh so quickly into your pocket. “Nothing much,” You reply quickly, smoothing out your shirt. “Same old same old, work has been fine, uh..” You trail off for a moment, clearing your throat. “Look, let me take a shower—I’m sure you’re itching for something to eat, huh?” Simon watches you open your drawers and pick out some pants and a shirt. The knife comes to mind—why are you taking it with you? “I can make it myself.” Simon responds, his feet planted firmly where he had been standing the whole time. You shake your head and close the drawers once you collect your clothes.
“It’s tradition, Simon. I gotta.” You offer a stronger smile as you make your way towards the door, still avoiding showing your back towards him. Simon watches as you glance at your bedroom window before exiting your room, muttering a quiet “close the door when you leave”, which Simon obeys. He shuts the door with a click, and he watches you quickly scurry down the hall towards the bathroom. “Just let me shower first.” And with that, you step into the bathroom, close the door and you lock it before Simon can interject. He stands there for a moment, stunned. His chest tightens for a moment because you just felt so far away. You’ve created such unwanted distance—even as you’re not very touchy with him, you still bother him for every detail he’s willing to give up when he returns. You are constantly making jokes, inviting him into the kitchen when you’re about to make a welcome home meal—but this time? You were hiding in your room, locking your door, bringing a knife with you—in front of him. Did you think that could slip past him? Did something happen whilst he was gone, to cause you to bring it with you? Is it for self defense against something or someone?— Is it to use on yourself?
Simon feels his stomach turn at his thoughts. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He walks past the bathroom, his footsteps stuttering for a moment in front of the door before he presses his lips into a thin line, returning to the kitchen to make himself some tea, the electric kettle had beeped long ago.
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The next late morning, not much was different. Simon only slept a few hours, three or four—as per usual, he still woke up before you. He threw on a pair of sweatpants, and a black hoodie. He made his tea, made you a cup of what you prefer to drink in the morning, and he made a light breakfast for you both. Despite being in the military for a while and relying on cooks as well as MRE’s to get through his days, Simon is a decent cook. He made himself some sausage and fried eggs, and he made a plate or a bowl of what you prefer to eat in the morning. Simon sighs for a moment as he glances at the time—around 1100, and you still haven’t emerged from your room which is odd, especially now that Simon just came back home. He takes a moment to look at his food, and he decides then and there he will drag you out if he has to. Simon scoops up his plate as well as your food, and he heads down the hall towards your room. With his hands full, Simon balances for a second as he gently kicks the door as a way to knock, and then he stands on both of his feet again. “Oi, wake up!” Simon shouts, leaning close to the door to listen for your movement.
It takes a good minute and when Simon is about to knock again; he hears your doorknob unlock and you peak out the door, your eyes wide and alert again, although it’s obvious you had just woken up. You seem to relax when your tired mind’s gears turn and you realize it’s just Simon. You open your door wider and you rub your eye, and he spots the knife in your hand, partially obscured by the door. “Mm, sorry. I overslept.” You say, your voice heavy with sleep, vibrating in your chest. Simon makes a noncommittal noise before holding out your food, which you stare at for a moment you take it, your lips twitching into a weak smile. “Thanks, Simon.” He waits a few seconds, and you nearly shut your door on him.
Thanks, Simon. That’s all??
“Can I eat in your room wit’you?” Simon gruffs out, feeling sudden determination from this weird act you have going on. You blink for a moment and then you nod. “Just give me a sec.” You murmur. You shut the door in his face and he hears you shuffling about, moving something—sounds like your mattress. Are you putting your knife away??—and then you open your door, gesturing for Simon to walk into your room. Surely you don’t think you can hide this type of thing from him of all people, right? Why are you hiding it from him?
Simon enters your room, and you close the door behind him. You never used to do that—“What happened?” Simon stares at you for an answer, watching your face contort in a bit of confusion. You don’t say anything at first, and when you were about to open your mouth, Simon speaks. “I mean this in the nicest way possible—do ya take me f’a wanker?” Your jaw drops for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing. “What? No, of course not, Simon. Nothing happened, I’m not sure why—“
“Don’t,” Simon interrupts, putting his plate of food on your dresser. “Something has happened, and you’re lyin’ to me. You’re jumpy, you’re carryin’ a blood knife around, lovie—don’t think you can get that past me—and you won’t turn your back on me.” His lips press into a line as he watches your shoulder hunch up a bit, in an all too familiar defensive, tense position. The pit in Simon’s stomach begins to grow as you avert your eyes from, too. “You are barely talkin’ when you bloody damn near talk my ear off when I come home—you said, ‘Thanks, Simon.’ Not an over the top reaction about me doing something for th’both of’us, not a invite in, and last night—you’ve been locking your door.” You put your food down near yourself, and Simon catches the way your fingers are trembling. “I.. I’m allowed to lock my door, Simon. You don’t need to question me.” You say, attempting to hold a steady voice which barely works, your voice nearly cracking on the last word. Your heart is racing out of your chest and all you want to do is bolt at the door; which Simon catches on to. You watch him as he slowly begins to step in front of the door. “You tell me everything—even how your damn showers go. Why won’t you tell me this?” He demands, and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, too.
He watches your face contort into several different emotions and feelings; panic, sadness, anger, relief—the whole nine yards. Simon walks towards you when you begin to sob, and you sit down on your bed to avoid collapsing. His chest tightens as he murmurs name, wondering if he went too far. You reach your hands for him and not for one second does Simon hesitate this time. He wraps his arms around you, sitting right next to you on your mattress, your thighs touching together. He reaches up and rubs the nape of your neck as you openly sob and shutter into the crook of his neck and in his arms. His skin burns from your heat seeping into his clothes, a lively warmth that burns so hot but he welcomes so much more than he remembers that he used to. Your tears are hot, burning his skin with every drop that slides onto his neck, but he welcomes the sensation. “It’s alright, lovie. Let it out.” Simon murmurs, one of his arms tugging your body closer to his. He holds you in almost protective stance, like someone is threatening to drag you away from his grasp. You grab at the back of his hoodie, your chest beginning to heave. “Mm, no, c’mere; look at me, yeah?” Simon beckons you, his voice smooth and soft—which is extremely rare. Simon cups your cheek and lifts your head from where it rests in the crook of his neck, his hand instantly getting covered in the wetness of your tears that are streaming down your cheeks. You inhale sharply as you try to look at Simon, your eyes unfocused and you try so hard to focus on his pretty brown eyes, but you can’t seem to get ahold of yourself. You let out a panicked sob as your hand now tug on the front of his hoodie, and his voice is so far away, but his hand is molding to the curve of your jaw, like it belongs there.
You shut your eyes for a moment and you let Simon move you around as he wants, which he ends up guiding your head to his chest, and his grip loosens some so you don’t feel trapped. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, to catch your bearings; you can hear a faint ringing sound that you didn’t notice before, but you do note it’s slowly fading away, and in fades is Simon’s voice. He’s murmuring praises—and oh, he’s laying against the headboard of your bed frame now, with you laying on his chest. You feel yourself trembling against him, and embarrassment hits you hard. You’re tense—you don’t want to talk about any of it at all, but you know Simon. He will push you until you snap, even if it’s in your best interest to tell him. You reach up and play with a hoodie string of his, listening to his soft breathing. You hesitate for a moment before your lips part. “It was a week after you left.” Simon’s heart skips a beat, which you hear—you vaguely find it amusing, but he’s silent to allow you to continue. One of his hands is on your back, his thumb moving back and forth. “I..” You swallow spit so you don’t croak, as you’re convinced you might sound pathetic. As if Simon would ever think of you that way. “I was walking home from the pub, y’know, the one only just a few blocks away? It was late at night, I think the police said it was around 2 am. I stayed until closing, I was with some of my friends, uh..” You trail off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. Your hand pauses, and Simon senses your state. He begins to rub your back full on, murmuring, “It’s alright. Go on, then.”
You let out a shaky breath before continuing. “I was absolutely wasted, and there was this guy—grabbed me and I tried to get out of his hold, but he ended up fucking stabbing me. Robbed me of my shit.” Your voice cracks and the silence is deafening. Simon feels his heart drop into his stomach. You got stabbed? “Fuckin’ hell.. Why didn’t you call me? Or at least let me know?” Simon’s voice treats carefully, knowing that you’re still freaking out by the way you’re incredibly tense against him. “I know how important your focus is when you’re gone,” You respond, your voice staying quiet as well. You don’t look at Simon’s face because you know that you’ll break once again. You pick at the fabric of his hoodie, seeking comfort in his warmth, despite how you usually aren’t like this with him. “I didn’t want to take your focus because I know you, Simon. You would’ve backed out of whatever you were trying to do to come and help me.” Simon presses his lips into a thin line, staying quiet because you both know that you’re correct. Simon would drop everything to come home to you, to help you. “The guy nicked my lung, was in the hospital for a while.” Simon’s hand stutters for a moment, the smooth pattern of his palm rubbing your back being interrupted from shock. “Jesus—“ Simon hisses, and he can’t help but tug you closer. “You should’ve told me anyway, lovie.”
You sniffle and you rub your face into his hoodie, a muffled noncommittal noise coming from the back of your throat. He doesn’t say anything further, nor do you. Simon lays there with you on top of him, one of his hands caressing your back, the other wrapped around your body, sometimes coming up to rub the back of your neck. You don’t mention the way he doesn’t seem to tell you to move, and he doesn’t mention how touchy you’re being. Simon doesn’t want this moment to end—one where you’re vulnerable and trusting with him, one where you’re alive and well. He can’t help but wonder if he ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell him something? Simon feels simmering, muffled anger in his stomach because you didn’t want to interrupt his work for being stabbed, nicking a vital organ no less—he makes a mental note to sit you down and make you promise to call him if an issue or an injury like that ever arises again. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to push away what would happen if you didn’t do that—if that guy were to come back to try to finish the job and Simon wasn’t here, would you call him? Would you pick up your phone and dial his number? Would you text him? What if you got hurt again—would you call him?—Or would the hospital? He always imagined you’d be getting the call of his death, and not the other way around. Simon swears under his breath for a moment and opens his eyes; he doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He wants to stay in this moment with you—both himself and you alive. He glances down, your tear stained cheeks slowly drying, your eyelids closed. His fingers slide from the nape of your neck to the side, and he presses his fingers against your pulse.
Being here with you—he wants you to trust him, too; like he trusts you. That’s all he wants.
tag: @zzzennin
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azullumi · 2 months
Note
trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....
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“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche
summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.
pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind
tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet
note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)
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i. hand
You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.
You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.
“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.
And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.
“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?
“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.
“You’re not unloveable.”
Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.
“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.
“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”
ii. forehead and cheeks
You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.
There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.
No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.
You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.
“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.
The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”
What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.
iii. lips
Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.
You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.
You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.
(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)
If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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motelofmermaids · 3 months
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omg we need a finnick x shy reader plz😭🙏🙏
this pulled me out of my slight writer’s block, bless you. ❤︎︎ i want to add that this is definitely adding onto this request, and i kind of built a story from it. i wanted to keep it canon to the hunger games, and i didn’t make reader too shy to where it’s like… c’mon. nonetheless, i really hope y’all enjoy!!
finnick odair loves how shy you are.
❥ when you first, for a lack of better terms, met finnick odair, it was a year before the third quarter quell. he was free, as far as you knew, sun kissing his slight honey-tanned skin, illuminating his sea-green eyes. he, without a doubt, had your breath taken. it would have been far from the truth if finnick said your sole attention on him at the bustling farmer’s market made him uncomfortable. for the first time, he truly thrived under another’s attention. finnick had noticed your presence throughout the market, shy glances as you listened to the shop owner’s attempts to persuade you. he gave you a smile, a wave—and you, little ol’ you, immediately turned around and walked anywhere your shaking legs took you. finnick wondered if he did something wrong.
𓆝 the second time you saw finnick odair was at the beach, sitting in the water as mags listened to his incoherent rant. you noticed his body language, his hands talking with him. you had gotten in an argument with your parents beforehand about the upcoming hunger games, they said you could volunteer, give your family honor. you could’ve been useful—to the district, to the capitol—but you ‘wasted’ your life on making jewelry for the local children and shop owners. sure, they were beautiful, ‘but not good enough.’ as small sob threatened to leave your lips, holding onto the bracelets you had made days before—for your parents. walking past mags and the capitol’s darling, mags pulled finnick out of his rant, pointing to you. finnick wasted no time catching up to you.
❥ months have passed leading up to the quarter quell, in which you and and finnick had become… friends. it took him a while to get almost anything out of you, being as quiet as you are. it was worth it, though, the way you slowly came out of your shell around him—when you gave him such sweet smiles, finally not covering your mouth with your hand when you’d laugh. you still got warm on the cheeks, still couldn’t look into his eyes for too long, especially since finnick was a natural tease. he always leaned in a little too close, he would bite his lip when listening to you, sometimes he’d move a strand of hair away from your face. it was all too much for you, and finnick knew that.
𓇽 when snow announced that previous victors would be reaped for the 75th hunger games, you immediately ran to finnick’s. you couldn’t even think, instantly pulling him into a hug when he answered. you held him the entire night, mags right beside the two of you. “finnick,” you cleared your throat, tears threatening to fall, “i want you to have this…” you took off your necklace, hesitating to hold his hand as you gave him the beautiful seashell pendant. he leaned up, his other hand reaching to gently brush your cheek. “i…,” you stuttered over your breath, looking away from him, “i want you to have a piece of home with you.” mags observed the both of you, giving an all-knowing smile.
❥ when finnick odair finally came home to a liberated district 4, a liberated and free panem, he only thought of you. as soon as finnick found you, eyes red and scanning the crowds of people, he ran without any regard. gently cupping your face, he looked down at your wide eyes, your shaking hands resting on his arms. he refused to waste another moment, not when he almost died—when you could’ve died. he leaned down, his breath gently grazed against your lips, and you heart might have given out from how fast it was beating. you closed your eyes, a small unspoken consent for him, and he kissed you. he kissed you until you realized that he was your source of oxygen, that he was all you had. he slowly pulled away, a smile adorning his lips and you couldn’t bear it—your eyes fluttering shut in pure timidity.
𓆝 finnick wanted you to move in, thought you’d love it more because it was near the water. he told you about all the nights you could have together, walking on the beach and stargazing. you agreed, of course you would, with the one condition of getting a cat. he didn’t hesitate, and you and him were comfortable together. it wasn’t a new home, it was filled with finnick’s childhood, but there was a novelty in the air—it felt like a new beginning… it was a new beginning. you had a family now; finnick made sure to remind you of that everyday. you and him—and your cat— were normal, you didn’t need to lower your voices to appease the oppressive capitol.
❥ you didn’t need to lower your voice when finnick had you underneath him. it was slow, sweet, and spiritual. he promised you from the start that he understood you, that you could take your time. he didn’t want you to rush just to please him. and when you nervously told him that you were ready, he made sure it was the best experience you could ever imagine. he needed you to know just how much he loved you, and that you didn’t need to be quiet with him—that you didn’t have to put on a mask. you were simply you, in your rawest form. and he craved every second of it.
𓇽 when finnick had mentioned marriage, you, without a moment to process, spluttered. he knitted his brows together, a small frown on his face as he asked if it was too soon, too straightforward. you panicked out, “no—no… no, not at all.” but you were hot, hand on your cheek to cool yourself down because, dear lord, you felt like you were burning. finnick couldn’t help his laughs, a cocky grin accentuating his sweet dimples. he cherished you, and you were aware of it; his love for you would endure as long as he lived. when you put your head in your hands, nodding as you muttered a small ‘yes.’ he swore you were sent from the heavens—that you were meant for him.
finnick odair who loves you for you.
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kishibei · 11 months
Text
GUYS MY AGE ...
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dilf! toji x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.6k words
summary: toji loves everything about his younger girlfriend, all except the overly friendly relationship she has with his son. to curb his unspoken fear of losing you, you fuck him.
cont: jealousy, possessive language, affectionate toji, missionary, mating press, no resolution, creampie per usual
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Toji loved your body; he could never fight that little nagging thought sitting in the back of his mind— the one telling him to touch you.
Your boyfriend's hands were strong, holding a roughness that was tender in its own right— the honest pads of his fingers hardened from years of dirty work.
His fingerprints were practically committed to your memory, each one just a little different from the next. Uneven swirls and ridges winded into each other; tips tacked with scars and deeper indentations from his gunslinging days.
You could feel them all when he walked his hands down your body; even more so when he had you spread open across his thighs, teasing you with just a couple of fingers.
...
Toji appreciated the softer parts of you and paid more attention to them. Your chest, your ass, and the slight pinch of your cheeks constantly reminded him of your youth compared to his— a youth that appeared long gone when you'd met his gaze now; thin black eyes adorned with crow's feet.
His eyes held a vision that was faraway, a distant kind of look he'd always given when he was upset about something. That stoney face he wore never failed to betray his emotions, bearing them on his sleeves despite his best efforts at swallowing them down. There was only one thing that could've been bothering Toji; the same thing that had been eating him up for weeks— his irrational fear of losing you.
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Toji really had nothing to worry about when it came to keeping you to himself. You were a one man kind of girl, ignoring the advances of any others who set their sights on you. He often scorned your younger peers, making fun of them without second thought, especially taking joy in tormenting the very man who introduced you to himself: his own son.
...
His first and only, Megumi was beyond fit. Clever, agile, and full of much more life than he was; Megumi was the spitting image of Toji in his younger years. Their striking resemblance was never quite something he saw as a bad thing, at least not until he began to date you.
It was the spoils of his own labor he envied— so much younger and almost perfect for you.
With the kind of drive that came with youth, Megumi easily had a long list of goals he fought fiercely to achieve; ones that he was never really shy to let you know of. He was shameless in this right, not even trying to hide his willingness to impress you in front of his father.
Toji would have been an idiot to not notice his son's infatuation with you. Only a fool would've choosen to ignore the longing glances, the lingering hugs, how the younger man always managed to look away whenever his father kissed you.
At times your boyfriend wondered if you’d prefer someone who wasn't this much your senior, mumbling his insecurities into your chest when he thought you’d already fallen asleep at night.
You had loved him just as much as he did you; your heart swelling with an appreciation for all things Toji. So here in his lap, you humor him; giving him a small reminder of just who you belonged to.
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The man had softened up over the years but his strength still remained, thick corded muscle staying firm beneath the thinning skin he had cursed so much.
You hardly blinked; watching intently as he fingered the hem of the shirt he was wearing, peeling it off slowly to expose his muscular chest. His pecs were adorned with light blue branches of veins that shone through his patinaed skin.
Despite how perfect, almost god-like he appeared in this moment, the sight reminded you of his humanity.
You're not sure of what exactly he did before he settled down with you, how many people he’d really killed, or the curses that followed him in his lifetime; but it was a reminder that blood still ran thick in those veins of his, and that they sustained the heart that bled only for you.
“I love you…” he whispered, the sudden confession making you laugh. A giggle bubbled up in your throat before bursting forth into the air, a sound reminiscent of wind chimes escaping your lips. It was an infectious thing, lifting the corners of Toji’s lips to form a gentle arc that stretched from cheek to cheek.
He's impatient when he tugs your jeans off, not even bothering to remove his as he opens his fly just enough to pull his heavy cock out. You know he’s hard despite the fact it barely stands erect, his leaky head bowing under the weight of the rest of him.
You can't help but lick your lips as you stare down at it, eyes already lidded with hazy vision as he grips onto the base, slipping into you without much of a fight.
A shaky breath leaves Toji's lips as he settles in, hissing at how your hole flutters, already clamping down on him.
"Shit..” he sibilates, “so fuckin’ wet for me…”
The words seem to go straight to your pussy as you clench around him, whining a bit from the praise and the mind-numbing feeling of him sinking into you.
He’s so big, he knows he is. Toji’s fully aware of how he fills you to the brim, how deep he reaches, practically prodding at your cervix as he lowers you down on him. He’s teeming with confidence now, pressing down on your tummy to show you just where he’s sure the tip of his length reaches.
“Mm, you feel that, baby?”
You blink slowly, trying to clear your head enough to find the words to respond. Pushing past little whimpers, you stumble over all the syllables you need. Deciding it's best to give up on speaking, you nod profusely, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. Upon revealing your stupefied expression to him, he laughs like he always does; a low rumble that just drips in arrogance as it falls from his lips.
“That’s all me…” he purrs, deft fingers slowly caressing the rest of your body, stopping to squeeze at your soft chest.
His unyielding touch moves down to your legs; strong hands finding purchase on the back of your thighs as he practically folds you in half, pressing your thighs to your chest like nothing.
It's so much, and you can feel him even deeper now, every inch of him plunging into you at a disconcerting pace. You squeal as he pounds into you sloppily, pressing messy kisses to your cheeks, the tops of your ears, down the expanse of your neck, and just about every bit of skin he can get his lips on from this angle.
He loves you, this you know. And even if he hadn't said it earlier, the way he’s fucking you says it all.
“Ooohh, shit Toji!” you sputter, eagerly bouncing on the man’s lap as you try to match his thrusts. Your body shakes with the force of each pump, moaning wantonly as he slowly drags his cock out of you, ramming it back in your dripping hole again and again.
You seem to be growing dumber by the second, incoherent babbles and whines leaving your lips as he fucks the shit out of you. If you could focus on one thing, you would; but your eyes shift everywhere, rolling into the back of your head before meeting with the place where your bodies connected, watching in a trance as Toji’s thick cock disappears into your sopping wet cunt.
Toji grunts, his hips bucking wildly as he clings to you tightly, your back against his broad chest as he uses the force of his pounding to bounce you on even harder than before. He grits through his teeth, eyes shutting hard before they open again, his lips at your ears as a string of expletives leave them.
“Fuckin’ hell, ease up, you’re squeezin’ me…” he strained, jaw clenched so tightly that it looked like it might just break.
Toji looked like he was reeling, so close to the edge but still holding on, trying to push you over yours before letting himself go.
“Fuck…whose pussy is this?" he panted, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried keeping his pace, his hips stuttering as he got closer to finishing now.
You couldn’t answer, mouth preoccupied with moan after the next as you tried anyways, babbling at him like an idiot.
“Mmngh! Y-yours! Yours, right?!"
It was difficult to even answer him straight, just saying anything, you jumbled up the first few words that floated into your hazy mind.
Toji laughed, taking in a shaky breath as he kept going, pulling your legs back even further as he slammed into you with a force that was overwhelming.
"Mine… all fuckin’ mine, you hear?!"
His pace was grueling and you were surely at your limit, crystalline tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he fucked you. Your skin felt like it was on fire, a deep familiar knot in the pit of your stomach just threatening to break.
“I hear! Hear you, Toji!" you yelped, mouth hung open in a perpetual 'O' as you teetered over the edge, right at the cusp of your orgasm.
“I can't! Can’t take any more, please!"
Toji amused you with a crooked grin, using his rough fingers to circle your puffy clit, the extra stimulation giving you just what you needed. You came with a cry, electricity coursing through your veins as you moaned wantonly, gushing around him with a shudder.
The force of your orgasm sent Toji straight into his own, groaning loudly as he emptied himself inside you, filling you to the brim with thick spurts of cum.
He huffed, chest heaving as he kissed you messily, slotting his tongue into your mouth just before he pulled away to speak.
“You’re so good… but just for me, yea?"
He pressed his lips against yours again and the corners of your mouth turned up in a satisfied smile, loving when he got like this. Toji grew soft, cuddling up to you as he slipped out of your cunt, a runny mix of both his and your fluids dripping onto his lap.
“Only for me…”
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©2023 KISHIBEI do not repost, modify, distrib. or translate.
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godsfavdarling · 11 days
Text
How could you?
my masterlist, part 2
pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship)
words: 2,3k
summary: You go to Spencer's apartment, only to witness a shocking betrayal that shatters your world.
warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15!
a/n: this was one of the ideas for the later chapters of my full story 'Keep Holding On' (completed and available here), but there wasn't really a place for it. so, I decided to just make it into a one-shot with a gender-neutral reader!
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You and Spencer have been together for a few years now, your relationship a patchwork of late-night conversations, lazy weekends spent on a couch with books, and long nights in each other's arms.
Although his job isn't easy and you don't get him to yourself as much as you'd like to, you wouldn't change a thing. He and the love you share mean everything to you.
In the quiet moments when you're alone, you find yourself marveling at how unexpected and yet perfectly fitting your love story is. You never thought this could happen to you. 
You never let yourself believe that there would be a man like Spencer loving you and accepting every fiber of your being.
Spencer's presence in your life is like a gentle breeze on a hot summer's day, soothing and comforting. His unwavering support and understanding make even the toughest days bearable. And when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, you feel a sense of belonging that you've never known before.
You cherish the simple moments shared over cups of coffee in the morning or stolen kisses in the middle of the day. In Spencer's eyes, you see a reflection of your own hopes and dreams, and in his laughter, you find the melody of your heart's desires.
As you drift off to sleep each night, nestled in Spencer's embrace, you offer a silent prayer of gratitude for the love that fills your days and the warmth that fills your heart. 
In him, you've found not just a partner, but a kindred spirit, a soulmate who completes you in ways you never knew were possible. And for that, you will always be thankful.
There's an unspoken language that exists only between you and Spencer. It's a language of love, trust, and understanding that transcends words.
You marvel at how effortlessly Spencer seems to know what you need, even before you do. His intuition is uncanny, his gestures of affection tender and sincere. 
Whether it's a simple touch on the small of your back as he passes by or a reassuring squeeze of your hand when you're feeling uncertain, Spencer has an innate ability to make everything feel right.
You trust him with your deepest fears, your wildest dreams, and every fragile piece of your heart.
In his arms, you find sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world, a safe harbor where you can be your truest self without fear of judgment or rejection.
And as you navigate the challenges of life together, you're constantly reminded of just how perfect Spencer is in your eyes. His kindness knows no bounds, his patience infinite. 
But it's not just his virtues that make him perfect; it's the way he loves you, wholly and unconditionally. In Spencer, you've found a partner who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all, and loves you all the more fiercely because of them.
Now as you climb the stairs to Spencer's apartment, your heart flutters. Spencer has just started his 30 days of obligatory sabbatical, and you're looking forward to spending more time together now that his only obligation is his teaching job. You've picked up takeout on the way, eager to share a quiet evening together.
But as you open the door, your excitement turns to shock and disbelief.
There, before you, is Spencer, locked in a passionate embrace with JJ. Her hands are cupping his cheeks, their lips pressed together in a kiss that sends a jolt of pain through your chest.
Time seems to stand still as the bags of food slip from your fingers, crashing to the floor with a dull thud. You can't tear your eyes away from the scene before you, the weight of betrayal crushing down on you like a ton of bricks.
A thousand thoughts race through your mind, each one more painful than the last.
How could Spencer do this to you? How long has this been going on? And most importantly, how could you have been so blind to the truth?
Your heart feels like it's been ripped from your chest, shattered into a million pieces by the revelation before you. The love and trust you once shared with Spencer now lay in ruins at your feet, leaving you feeling empty and alone in a world that suddenly seems cold and indifferent.
As Spencer and JJ finally break apart, their eyes widening in shock at your sudden appearance, you feel a surge of anger rising within you. But beneath the anger lies a deep well of hurt and sadness, a pain that cuts to the very core of your being.
Without a word, you turn on your heel and flee from the apartment, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to make sense of the betrayal that has shattered your world.
Everything spins around you in a blur of tears and confusion, you turn and run down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal that threaten to consume you.
Each step feels like a marathon, your legs heavy with the weight of sorrow and disbelief.
But just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, your vision swimming with tears, you stumble, your foot catching on the edge of a step. You plummet forward, the ground rushing up to meet you with terrifying speed.
In that split second before impact, a pair of strong arms wraps around you, pulling you back from the brink of disaster. You gasp in shock and relief as Spencer catches you, his grip firm and steady.
For a moment, you cling to him like a lifeline, your body trembling with the force of your emotions.
You can't breathe, can't think, can't comprehend the enormity of what has just happened.
As you collapse onto the stairs, your sobs echoing in the empty stairwell, Spencer kneels beside you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.
He reaches out to touch you, but you flinch away, unable to bear the thought of his hands on your skin.
"Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't what you think. I didn't...I didn't do anything."
But his words fall on deaf ears as you struggle to make sense of the chaos swirling inside your head.
How could Spencer betray you like this? How could he let someone else touch him in that way?
As the truth begins to dawn on you, a wave of anger washes over you, hot and relentless. You push yourself away from Spencer, your chest heaving with the effort to draw breath.
"Don't," you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't touch me."
But Spencer refuses to give up, his eyes burning with determination as he reaches for you once more. "Please," he begs, his voice raw with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't me. It was her."
You place a trembling hand on your chest, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggle to catch your breath.
"How could you?" you utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words heavy with accusation and pain.
Spencer's eyes are full of anguish as tears well up in his eyes. He reaches out to you, his hand hovering in the air between you, a silent plea for forgiveness that you're not sure you're ready to grant.
But before you can respond, JJ appears at the top of the stairs, her mouth open as if she's about to say something. But then, with a quick shake of her head, she closes her mouth and walks past the two of you without a word.
You stare after her in disbelief, your mind reeling with confusion and hurt.
You struggle to make sense of the situation. You knew of the hostage situation with JJ and how she had professed her love for Spencer. But you also remember how Spencer immediately came to you, confessing everything and reassuring you of his love for you.
He spent the whole night telling you every detail of what happened, assuring you that his heart belonged to you and you alone. He made it clear that you were the one he loved, not JJ.
So what happened? How could he be kissing her now, after everything he said and everything you've been through together?
With a shaky breath, you push yourself up from the stairs, your muscles tense with the effort to contain the storm raging within you. You want to flee, to distance yourself from him and the shattered remnants of your trust.
But before you can take a single step, Spencer's voice cuts through the tumultuous haze of your thoughts, pleading with you to stay. His words are a desperate plea for understanding, for a chance to explain the inexplicable.
"Please," he implores, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't leave. I need to explain. I swear, it wasn't what it looked like. You have to believe me."
You hesitate, torn between the desire to escape and the need for answers. Despite the overwhelming pain coursing through your veins, there's a part of you that still craves the truth, no matter how agonizing it may be.
You groan loudly, the weight of the situation bearing down on you like a leaden blanket. Your mind races with a million questions, each one more painful than the last.
But for now, you're too overwhelmed to process anything.
With another loud groan, you turn and begin to make your way back upstairs, your steps heavy with exhaustion and despair.
You can feel Spencer's eyes boring into your back, his silent plea for you to stay echoing in the empty stairwell.
As you reach the top of the stairs, you don't look back, you enter the apartment and your only thought is to find a moment of solace in the solitude of the bathroom.
With trembling hands, you shut the door behind you, the click of the lock a final barrier between you and the chaos that threatens to consume you.
And as you sit there, trembling and broken, you realize that there's something about Spencer, something in the depths of his eyes that compelled you to stay, to hear him out.
It's a trust that runs deeper than words.
As you emerge from the bathroom after a few minutes, the weight of the silence between you and Spencer hangs heavy in the air.
You find him on the couch, his leg shaking uncontrollably, his fingers fidgeting nervously. His face is etched with worry and pain, mirroring the tumult of emotions raging inside you both.
He gave you space, just as he always did. It's one of the things you've always admired about him, his ability to recognize when you needed time to process and heal.
But now, as you sit in the armchair nearby, staring at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you can't help but feel the need for answers, for some semblance of understanding in the chaos that surrounds you.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Spencer speaks. His voice is hoarse with emotion, the words tumbling out in a rush as if he's been holding them back for far too long.
"She just showed up," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Out of nowhere, she started talking about how she loves me and how she was stupid for ignoring it for so long. She said she couldn't pretend anymore..."
You listen in stunned silence, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. So it wasn't Spencer who initiated the kiss, it was JJ.
But why?
As Spencer continues to speak, his words are a desperate attempt to make sense of the madness that has engulfed your lives, you find yourself drawn to him, to the vulnerability etched into every line of his face.
Despite the pain and betrayal that still lingers between you, there's a part of you that can't help but empathize with his plight.
As Spencer falls silent, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness or understanding, you find yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.
Hurt, betrayal, and confusion war with a lingering sense of empathy and love for the man sitting before you.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and collect your thoughts. "Spencer," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what to say."
His eyes widen in anticipation, his expression a mixture of hope and fear. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."
"I need time," you finally say, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need time to process everything, to figure out where we go from here."
Spencer nods solemnly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."
With a heavy sigh, you push yourself up from the armchair, your limbs feeling like lead. "I'm going to go," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "I just... I need some space."
Spencer nods, his gaze following you as you make your way to the door. "I'll be here," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."
You pause in the doorway, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. "I love you too," you murmur, your voice choked with emotion.
And with that, you step out into the cool night air, the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders.
As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder will it ever be the same between the two of you?
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waitingonher · 10 months
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hiii!! I saw your Percy x Hecate reader and was wondering if you could do a percy x Aphrodite reader?? 🫶🏽🫶🏽
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percy jackson dating a child of aphrodite
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pairing: percy jackson x reader
content warning: coupley things
word count: 916
author's note: hi!! sorry this took so long (finals r around the corner) enjoy tho! i also put my own gas station order in this LOL
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you and percy have got to be the most attractive couple on the planet. honestly, it’s an unspoken camp rite of passage to have a crush on at least one of you two. everyone literally has their own story about how they have/had a crush on either you or percy (or both) it’s crazy. 
percy is such a green flag!! 
HE FOLLOWS THE SIDEWALK RULE. no matter where you are, you WILL be walking on the inside. 
you could be on a super dangerous quest being chased by monsters and percy would still make sure he’s running on the outside. like i’m pretty sure being ran over is the least of your worries… but it’s still cute.
percy is actually so obsessed with the fact that you can speak french/other romance languages. he’d make up any excuse just to hear you speak them.
all of a sudden he’s paying attention in his spanish class and he needs your help pronouncing certain words!! 
or one day he’d randomly come up to you and would start speaking to you in french??? turns out he’s been secretly learning it without you knowing?? percy’s 387 day duolingo streak is all because he wanted to hear you speak your language more. he’s definitely dedicated!
sometimes when you’re talking, percy would suddenly be like “wow, she’s so pretty???” and he’d (accidentally) zone out, just completely admiring you. he knows that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, but sometimes he just has to take a moment to take it all in. 
shopping dates with percy!! 
you’d ask him which top looks the best on you and then he’d tell you all of them?? he really thinks you can afford all 10 shirts you showed him.
“perce, between those three pants, which one looked better on me?” you ask, holding one of the pairs against your body.  your boyfriend looks deep in thought before coming to a decision, “all of them,” he declares. “babe,” you groan, “you can’t choose them all, choose one.”  percy looks genuinely worried when he realizes he has to actually decide on one, because he thinks that you looked absolutely gorgeous in all of them. so he comes up with the only other idea that makes sense, “well i don’t mind buying them all for you. besides, you looked super great in them.”  you immediately shake your head, “percy, i’m not about to let you drop $150 on three pairs of pants. that’s actually insane.”  “but-”  “no percy.” 
HE KNOWS WHAT COLOR JEWELRY YOU WEAR. percy absolutely refuses to be one of those lousy boyfriends who don't even know what kind of jewelry their girlfriend wears. 
he’s been patiently waiting for the day when someone asks which color you prefer.  
this guy has your gas station order down to a tee! 
percy walks up to the passenger door with a plastic white bag in hand. he opens the door and begins to take out its contents, “thanks perce! you got my-”  “i got your arizona, the green tea flavor, and your hot fries. and yes, i made sure to shake all the bags to make sure i got the one that was optimally filled,” he responds, a smug expression spreading across his face.  with an impressed look, you nod your head in approval, “wow babe, you’ve really got my order down.”   percy nods his head pridefully, “i know.” 
dates where you two have to dress up are one of his favorites!! 
him seeing you all dolled up…whewww…someone call 911 for him. 
despite how much percy hates dressing up, he’d do it if it means he gets to see you all dressed up. 
percy makes you flower bouquets!! 
they’re always so unique and special every time?? you didn’t even know that camp had such a wide variety of flowers until he started making you bouquets. 
and he always makes sure to keep a flower in his cabin so he knows when it’s time to make you a new one jdfsklds
one of percy’s favorite things to do with you are little skincare nights! 
you’d come over to his cabin and you guys would light some candles and make tea. overall it’s a very calming ambience! 
even though it’s terrible for his skin, percy has an affinity for peel-off face masks. every single time, without fail, he’ll make some sort of joke about how he’s shedding. LMAO 
you look over in the bathroom mirror to see your boyfriend applying the very thing you hate, a peel-off face mask, “love, why can’t you be normal and use a sheet mask for once? or even a clay one like mine?” you point to your face.  percy takes a quick glance at you in the mirror and shrugs, continuing to apply the mask onto his skin, “those ones are lame, and it’s not fun if i can’t peel it off,” he responds, very concentrated on spreading the mask around. you cringe when he gets a glob of the mask onto his fluffy headband.  “well the formulas aren’t really good and it’s super irritating for your skin, babe,” you tell him, hoping that the thought of a damaged skin barrier scares him out of using peel-off masks.  “y/n, you can have the good skin. i’m fine with a damaged skin barrier or whatever,” percy replies, trying to remove the mask from his headband.  you roll your eyes, “whatever, lizard face.” 
you two are actually a match made in heaven <333 
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nymerias-high-garden · 2 months
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'Spring Formal'
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Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfAphrodite!Reader
A/N:Never thought I'd actually write something this long but I was watching tiktoks and had an idea 💀 but anyways-
Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares, stormed into the Camp Half-Blood Spring Formal with her usual scowl, her outfit glinting in the dim light.She wasn't one for fancy events,but Chiron insisted that it was a chance for demigods to bond.Little did she know,this particular formal would change her perspective on more than just parties.
The pavilion was adorned with twinkling lights, and the scent of ambrosia and nectar wafted through the air. Clarisse scanned the room, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the children of Athena huddled together, discussing tactics for capture the flag. Her gaze shifted to the son of Hermes,sneaking snacks from the refreshment table.
However,what truly caught Clarisse off guard was the vision of beauty that entered the pavilion.You,a daughter of Aphrodite, wearing a breathtaking silver gown that shimmered with every step.The dress clung to your curves,and the delicate straps revealed a hint of your sun-kissed shoulders.
As the night progressed, Clarisse found herself observing from a distance, unable to shake the sense of longing that gripped her. The daughter of Ares was accustomed to battles and conquests, not matters of the heart. She retreated to the edges of the pavilion, silently watching as you twirled and laughed with others.
Clarisse was known for her toughness and combat skills, but beneath that exterior lay a heart that few had glimpsed.But she wasn't about to fall for an Aphrodite kid of all people!
However,Clarisse,as tough as she was,unaccustomed to such beauty, felt a strange flutter in her chest. She couldn't tear her eyes away as you twirled on the dance floor,your laughter echoing like the sweetest melody.
As the night unfolded,Clarisse observed you from a distance,feeling a mix of awe and frustration.She couldn't deny the undeniable pull she felt.But then,her jealousy flared when she noticed you dancing with Luke, another camper,who seemed equally smitten by your charms.
Clarisse scowled,clenching her fists as she watched them glide across the dance floor. A surge of conflicting emotions swirled within her. The daughter of Ares, usually unyielding in battle, found herself grappling with a different kind of conflict—a battle of the heart.
Determined to push aside her unexpected feelings, Clarisse decided to join the dance floor. With her armor clanking, she approached the scene, cutting in between you and Luke.The daughter of Ares extended her hand to you, surprising both herself and the onlookers.
"Mind if I cut in?" Clarisse's usual tone,gruff and authoritative,carried a hint of vulnerability that she never thought she'd reveal.
You,even if momentarily taken aback, smiled and accepted Clarisse's invitation.You two began to dance, a clash of strength and grace.Clarisse struggled to find the right words,but you,with your innate charm, eased the tension.
As they danced, Clarisse's initial jealousy transformed into a realization—an acknowledgment of the unexpected connection she felt with you. The daughter of Ares, known for her battles, found herself engaged in a different kind of skirmish—one that unfolded in the silent language of shared glances and unspoken emotions.
In the midst of the dance, Clarisse mustered the courage to speak. "You look... different tonight." she grumbled, struggling to articulate her thoughts.
You chuckled, the sound like a soft breeze. "Different good or different bad?"
"Good, I guess," Clarisse admitted, surprising herself with the honesty.
As the night progressed,you continued to dance,your movements synchronized in a dance of emotions neither of you fully understood.The daughter of Ares, usually quick to anger, found herself navigating a maze of feelings she had never encountered before.
Eventually, they found a quiet corner where they could talk away from the lively music and curious gazes.
"Why did you dance with Luke?" Clarisse blurted out, unable to contain the question that had been gnawing at her.
Your eyes softened, and you sighed. "Luke asked me, and I didn't want to be rude. But honestly, I'd rather be dancing with someone else."
The admission hung in the air, and Clarisse felt a strange mixture of relief and trepidation. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, the daughter of Ares realized the vulnerability you both shared.
"Someone else, huh?" Clarisse mumbled, trying to hide the hope in her voice.
You nodded,your smile gentle. "Someone strong,someone who surprises me, someone like you..."
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userlando · 10 months
Text
got drunk on you — daniel ricciardo
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daniel ricciardo x verstappen!reader [6.5k] summary: max comes for a visit before the race in monza and he fails to mention that he'd invited daniel along. warnings: 18+ explicit smut, verstappen!reader, explicit language. a/n: not me writing this during my 12hr shift lmfao i hope it's somewhat enjoyable to read. as always, feedback is v much appreciated. love you all 🤍
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The first time you saw Daniel, was when he’d been clad in orange at the paddock in Bahrain. It wasn’t so much as your eyes being drawn to him automatically, but more so his laughter. You still remembered where you stood with Max and his girlfriend, offering words of support to your brother before qualifiers. Your eyes had solely been on him, but they’d immediately glanced around at sound of the big belly laugh from across the paddock, drawn like a moth to a flame.
It wasn’t hard to match the laughter to the smiling face, watching with mild interest as he messed around with Lando; slapping him between the legs and dodging the punches the British boy dished out in retaliation. He looked fun, carefree, bearing absolutely no tension or nerves that half the grid did for the upcoming race.
Daniel was beautiful. There was no other word to describe him. The sheer charm radiating off of him had your interest piqued immediately, and pairing that with the forbidden fruit feeling, you were hooked. There had never been any real desire to break the unspoken rule of you dating your brother’s friends and colleagues, but it was easy to imagine stepping over that line when you’d watched the tall Australian.
No words were exchanged, but you did get glances and friendly smiles whenever you passed each other. Your best friend received the brunt of your inner thoughts, texting her like a madman of the tall glass of water on the grid.
When Max won, you’d gone back to the hotel and had a few drinks while you got ready for the after party, keeping Sofia - your friend - on the line. She’d somehow convinced you to follow him on Instagram, which you did, and you’d tried not to overthink it when he’d sent you a follow request back a few minutes later.
If liking pictures was flirting, then you were well on the right track.
You’d only ever gotten glimpses of him whenever you did end up tagging along to races, but the first time you actually met him was when Max showed up on your doorstep with Kelly, claiming that he missed his little sister and wanted to spend a few days with you before he was off to Monza. You didn't point out that you'd be right there with him in Italy, accepting his intrusion easily because despite it all, you missed him a whole lot.
What he’d failed to mention was that Daniel would be dropping by too, having invited him without checking with you. It usually wasn’t a problem, sometimes guys from the grid would show up with your brother and it was always a good time.
You really, really wished he’d mentioned it before you opened the door the morning after your brother’s arrival though, still in your very embarrassing pajamas and a toothbrush used and abandoned in your bathroom, fully expecting to see the delivery man on the other end. What you didn’t expect was the tall man who you’d silently been yearning for, looking way too good for someone who'd stepped off a plane.
“Hey.” He greeted you, shooting you a smile that made you blink owlishly. “Good morning.”
You frowned, opening your mouth to greet him but was pushed to the side by your idiot brother. There was a loud and silly exchange between the two men, like you weren’t standing right there with a big question mark on your face, and you watched in silence before Daniel’s gaze on you made Max turn around; like he’d forgotten you were there. In your own home.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you but I invited Daniel.” Max said and you refrained from glaring at him, giving the other man a kind smile instead. “It’s no problem, yeah?”
Killing your brother would have to wait.
“Hi, sorry, of course not.” You thrust your hand out for him to shake, which he did. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
You invited him in, closing the door and shooting your brother a glare when his friend wasn’t looking. He responded with a clueless frown of his own, eyes dropping to what you were wearing.
“What are you wearing?” He asked, yelping when you elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs. “And what do you have on your face?”
He reached a hand out to swipe at your cheek, rubbing off toothpaste and you watched in horror, wanting nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
Thankfully, Max lead the way without another word, chatting with the Australian as he showed him to the room he’d presumably be staying in. You watched them round a corner before fleeing to the kitchen, finding Kelly by the stove, looking ten times more put together than you did. The whole place smelled like pancakes, and you almost lost your track of thoughts just by the sheer smell of them. But you were too wound up, a little upset and a whole lot embarrassed.
“What is he doing here?” You asked, careful to keep your voice hushed because you knew how well sound traveled through your house. “Why didn’t Max say anything!”
Kelly looked a little lost, like she wasn’t sure why you were as upset as you were. Which, fair, she didn’t know the absolute turmoil you’d experience whenever you caught sight of Daniel. It was embarrassing, how nervous the man made you. Like a teenaged girl with a crush on her brother's best friend.
“I thought he did.” She looked over her shoulder at you before plating a pancake with practiced ease. “He’s coming with us to the vineyard.”
You leaned against the counter, feeling a little miffed and she must’ve seen the look on your face because she smiled in amusement.
“You’re the one who complained about third wheeling when I booked the tour for us.”
She had a point, but you didn’t say it out loud. Instead, you plucked a cut up strawberry from a plate and turned around to go get ready before the boys came back. The giraffe pajamas had caused you enough embarrassment for a day. It was time for them to retire deep, deep in the back of the closet.
Breakfast was surprisingly pleasant, conversation flowing freely as you dug into your food. You’d forgotten how incredibly well your brother and Daniel fit together, bickering like siblings and taking friendly jabs at each other. Kelly shifted the conversation to the vineyard you’d be touring, talking about the kinds of wines they made and would have in the menu.
It was a beautiful day to spend outside, the Spanish sun shining brightly as you found your little group huddled around the entrance. It was a small group consisting of maybe fifteen people, and you looked around as Kelly and Max walked ahead of you.
“D’ya reckon we’ll get drunk off our asses?” Daniel asked and you gave the man an amused smile.
“I don’t think the samples are that big.” You frowned. “Right?”
“No clue.” He looked ahead as the two of you fell into step, presumably glancing at Max. “Do you like wine?”
You considered lying, but then you figured that it wouldn’t do much harm to just be honest so you shook your head in the negative.
“Absolutely hate it.” You let out a small giggle when Daniel laughed, bumping his arm against yours. “I’m sorry but it smells and tastes so bad!”
“It does the job, though, no?”
You smiled, opening your mouth to reply but Max cut in, yelling at you to hurry up and join them. The tour guide had appeared like magic, out of thin air, and he was standing to the side patiently. You eyed him suspiciously, turning to Kelly to ask her whether it was an English or Spanish tour, but then the man started speaking and your suspicion turned into sheer amusement.
“Why’s he speaking Spanish?” Max murmured quietly enough for only the three of you to hear.
“Because we’re in Spain, Max.” You answered him sarcastically, earning a snort from Daniel and an exasperated eye roll from your brother.
Kelly made a sound in her throat, sounding a lot like a warning to shut up like she did so many times whenever the two of you started bickering in public.
“I think I might’ve booked the wrong guide.” Kelly admitted sheepishly, quietly and you muffled a laugh behind your hand.
It was a funny thought, that she’d managed to choose a tour with a Spanish guide when only one out of the four of you could speak the language. The one being you. You knew it was only a matter of time before your brother would disassociate out of boredom, and you couldn’t wait to witness it.
“He’s telling us to follow him.” You murmured helpfully, referring to the guide and the group moved in tandem as everyone entered the vineyard.
The tour went as well as expected, watching with mild interest and confusion as you walked the fields, descending stairs to basements and getting to sip on samples of expensive wine in the dampness of old cellars.
You tried not to grimace too hard when you brought the glass to your lips, stomach roiling dangerously as you sipped. And it was only when you’d shuddered that you noticed Daniel watching and grinning across from you, catching you in the act.
At some point, you lost sight of Max and Kelly. You suspected that they’d broken out of the group and gone to the restaurant to sample more wines; like their lips weren’t already stained and Kelly wasn’t starting to get into that giggly mood she always got into when she’d had a little much to drink.
You and Daniel stuck together though, eventually wandering off and getting lost in the field of grapes and greens.
It was fun. More fun than you’d had in a while. You took silly pictures, talked and you forgot the time completely.
“I think Max is a little drunk.” You pointed out, holding your phone in your hand with the screen lit up by a text from the man himself.
You held out your phone so Daniel could read the text, watching how he threw his head back to laugh at the jumble of words he found there. Much like the texts he’d sometimes receive after bar crawls and night clubs.
where arew yoh?? This wind is amazing
??? Wind not wind
WINE
are yyu lost? do I nee f to call for help
“He’s trashed.” Daniel agreed.
You sent back a quick assurance that you were fine, pocketing your phone and looking up to find the man already looking at you. It sent a zip of awareness down your back and you looked away bashfully.
The sun had done a lot of good for him, his cheeks were gaining colour and had already started to freckle. It was pretty, and so, so endearing.
“So, are you excited for Monza?” You asked lightly, turning a corner in the hopes of finding the way back to the restaurant but it was another dead end.
The both of you kept walking though, figuring that you’d find your way back eventually. You just hoped it would be before it got dark outside. Max was drunk, but he’d send a search party out and you had no doubt about that.
“Oh yeah, I got it in the bag.” He said, playful, easy. So very attractive. “Max doesn’t stand a chance.”
You laughed, shoving him in the side and he stumbled with a cackle; regaining his footing easily.
"The most skillful driver out there." It wasn't a complete lie, Daniel was one of the good ones. He just needed a team that could keep up with his speed.
“I’m in the category of the more good looking drivers, actually.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah,” he puffs up his chest, lips getting sucked between his teeth in a poor effort to keep the massive smile off his face. “That’s what my mom said anyway.”
You let out a laugh, thinking of how utterly charming he was. It seemed to come naturally to him, and usually it’d intimidate you when that charm is paired with wildly good looks but he somehow managed to put you at ease.
It wasn’t difficult to see why Daniel was so popular and loved in and out of the grid. He made everyone feel like they were old childhood friends and that was a rare quality to possess.
“I’m starting to think that she lied, though.” He continued, like he hadn’t been staring at your smiling face for a beat too long.
You’d been staring too, though. He was too mesmerising.
“Why’s that?” You grinned, knowing that he’d say something that would reel you in completely, judging by the playful little shake of his head.
“Because you didn’t agree.” He laughed at your eyebrows jumping on your forehead. “You laughed too hard.”
“How do you know I wasn’t laughing out of agreement?” You narrowed your eyes a little playfully.
Daniel smiled, delighted that you were playing along and falling right into his little flirty traps. He couldn’t even remember why he was so nervous to talk to you in the first place.
But then you smiled at him, eyes glistening a little too prettily and it was like someone had knocked the breath out of him. So, he looked away and tried not to show how he’d suddenly felt like someone had pulled the rug right from underneath him.
Never mind that you were Max’s sister, knowing that there was some silent bro-code that he had to consider. It was hard when you had all the qualities he usually looked for in women. And not to mention how fucking attracted he was to you.
“So you do agree that I’m good looking.” He nodded, looking a little smug and you shook your head in amusement.
“Who doesn’t?” You asked, before you had any time to rethink the words coming out of your mouth.
He looked at you and you struggled to not break eye contact, even though your face was feeling a few degrees hotter. If he noticed your nerves, he didn’t say anything and you were eternally grateful for that.
“Well,” he sucked his teeth and tried not to look like his ego hadn’t tripled by that one comment. “ditto, sweetheart.”
The way he said it so casually almost made you stop in your tracks, heat creeping up your neck at the way the word sweetheart sounded on his tongue. You briefly wondered how it’d sound in other contexts.
The thought made your heart race and you quickly banished that thought, because what the fuck?
Daniel made a little sound and stopped walking, and you automatically looked up to notice that you’d finally found your way back. You laughed because somehow you’d accidentally circled around and ended up back where you started.
“Ready for some more wine?” Daniel asked jokingly, brushing his hand against yours and you resisted the urge to grab it.
It was easier to nod, words stuck in your throat as you made your way up the stairs to the restaurant.
It was night by the time you came stumbling back through the threshold of your house, Kelly and Max a little tipsy with Daniel not too far behind; judging by the slight flush on his cheeks that definitely hadn’t been caused by the Spanish sun.
Your cheeks were aching from smiling and laughing too much during the evening, heart feeling light as you navigated your way through the house. Your brother grabbed you with an arm around the shoulders, pulling you into his embrace so suddenly that it made you stumble.
“Easy, Max.” You let out a yelp when he smacked a kiss on your head, slapping at him with your hands until he eased his hold on you.
“Goodnight, bunny.” He was slurring a little, but the words sounded fond coming from his mouth.
You got a similar kiss from Kelly - but less sloppy - and you watched them walk away before disappearing out of sight. The sound of a half-snorted laugh made you turn around, finding Daniel hiding his smile behind his hand. Not that it did much hiding, eyes scrunched up in amusement.
“Bunny?” He referred to your brother’s nickname for you and you frowned in embarrassment. He easily recognised the sheer disdain colouring your face and was quick to plead. “No, no. I need to hear that story.”
“No, you really don’t.” You shook your head with a laugh and began walking to the kitchen. “It’s horrifying enough that you saw me in my pajamas this morning.”
Daniel let out a laugh this time, the sound echoing in the kitchen and you couldn’t even hide your smile even if you tried.
“Hey, giraffes are cute, alright?” He plucked a clean glass out a cabinet and accepted the water bottle you’d gotten out of the refrigerator. “I thought you looked good.”
“Oh, you’re a bad driver and a liar.” You hauled yourself up to sit on the counter.
“I’m not ly— you think I’m a bad driver?” He looked offended, voice going up an octave in sheer disbelief. “You really do have your brother’s sense of humour.”
You stretched a leg out to poke his waist and he easily caught your leg when you tried to pull back. A startled yelp left your lips at his quick reflexes, and you tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was trailing the grip up your leg as he inched closer to you.
“Tell me why he calls you bunny.” He said seriously, and you blinked in disbelief because how did he break the tension so fast?
“You’re not allowed to laugh.” You warned him and he nodded, the smile telling you that he was going to do exactly that. “I used to pretend to be a bunny when I was little. I’d demand carrots for dinner and it has just stuck through all these years.”
He threw his head back and cackled so loudly that you were almost worried that Max would come back out and see what the commotion was all about. But it was hard to deny that his laughter was contagious, so loud and carefree that you couldn’t find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad.
“That’s adorable!” He placed both hands on your thighs as he stepped between them, giving you a bright smile. “Did you hop around as well? Oh you did, didn’t you?”
Your embarrassed smile was enough of an answer, and it sent him into fits of laughter again until you groaned and hid your burning face behind your hands. Daniel’s peals of laughter slowly died down and he made a noise of protest, hands coming up to pry yours off your face.
“Don’t be embarrassed, bunny.” He said and you glared.
“Don’t call me that.” You pointed a finger at him. “Only Max is allowed because he rarely does anymore. I don’t want that nickname to stick.”
He held up his hands in surrender, sucking in his lips to stop himself from smiling and you held your own smile back while staring straight at him.
You hadn’t realised how close the two of you had gotten, your thighs on either side of his waist and him leaning oh, so close to you. There was a shift in the air then, where you both seemed to realize the position you found yourselves in. He didn’t make any moves to pull away though, and you weren’t about to be the one to push him away.
You were aware that you were playing a dangerous game, toeing the fine line that Max had drawn in the imaginary sand. There was no telling how your brother would react if he walked into the kitchen right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your hands found life of their own; trailing up the meaty expanse of Daniel’s arms until you reached his broad shoulders.
He wasn’t a massive guy, by any means, but he was defined and had muscle. It wasn’t so hard to see that he’d put in work to look the way he did, it came with his job after all.
“Can I…” His words died on his tongue when you glanced up at him, getting a little lost in your eyes and the way you were practically eating him up with your gaze. It was intoxicating. “Can I kiss you?”
A rush of heat flooded your stomach, and you responded by running your fingers through his hair and bringing his head closer to yours. He went easily, eagerly settling his mouth over yours in a kiss that had you gripping his hair and shoulder.
The need took over so fast, you barely had time to take a breath. Your heart sped up when he took that last step forward, bringing his knees flush to the counter as his mouth opened under yours.
You didn’t know what to focus on, getting lost in the feeling of his hands gripping at your ass cheeks and pulling you into him until your crotch was slotted right against his lower belly; allowing you to rub off on him if you so pleased. And fuck, you really wanted to.
He must’ve sensed it, or even read your thoughts because he helped you thrust forward with the help of his hands on your ass, groaning deeply into your mouth when you started grinding against his torso. Daniel didn’t know if he was imagining the heat against his stomach, but you felt warm and so ready for him to take you apart however he pleased.
“Tell me what you want.” He demanded quietly against your lips, and you let out a needy little whimper when he squeezed the meat of your ass in his palms. “You gotta tell me what you want.”
“You.” You managed, leaning forward to kiss him and Daniel allowed it before pulling back slightly.
You almost huffed in frustration, but refrained from doing so. Instead, you grabbed one of his hands and guided them up the apex of your thighs, under your dress and settled his hands right where you needed him most. Daniel’s breath stuttered, the heat of it hitting your face and you blinked at him with pleading eyes.
“Touch me, please, Daniel.” You arched your back a little until his hand moved of its own accord, stroking softly over the dampness of your underwear.
He couldn’t believe how wet you already were, fingers eagerly searching for your hole through the cotton and pressing down until you were whining. It was like music to his ears, and he needed to hear more.
Daniel yanked your panties to the side, cursing loudly at the wetness of your pussy against the pads of his fingers. He touched your swollen clit in circles, never taking his eyes off of your face. You were so animated, pleasure written in large bold letters on your face as your eyelids fluttered; eyes rolling a little when he stroked you particularly nicely, mouth dropping opening in breathy moans.
He couldn’t resist leaning forward to steal a kiss, the filthiness of it making his cock ache.
“Does that feel good?” He asked when you broke from the kiss, tipping your head backwards so his mouth met your chin instead. He kissed down the column of your throat and sucked against the skin there, mindful to not leave any visible marks.
“Feels perfect.” You slurred, your accent melding into your English and it was so horribly endearing and hot at the same time that Daniel couldn’t resist sinking a finger into you.
The response from you was beautiful, your back arching and hips thrusting into his hand as your hole swallowed his digit without any trouble. Daniel wasn’t sure if you were even aware of the noises you were making, high pitched little uh’s that rose in octaves and he was quick to silence them by kissing you.
He took the opportunity to slide another finger alongside his middle one, meeting a little resistance before you relaxed in his hold. The wetness and warmth of you was so intoxicating that he had to take a deep breath to not blow too soon in his pants.
“Want you—“ your words trailed off as your hands came up to search for the button of his pants.
You were panting, feeling impatient and Daniel watched in silence as the sound of the zipper echoed in the quiet kitchen. There was a brief sense of relief when you dragged down the hem of his underwear, just enough for you to fish him out and get your hands on him.
“Fuck.” You cursed in a whisper, voice laced in enough wonder for Daniel to laugh breathlessly. It was unbelievable how that one word could breathe so much confidence into his body.
Daniel was heavy and hard in your hand, and you took a moment to stroke him to get him fully hard, marvelling at the sheer weight and size of him. Of course, he couldn’t possess the personality and looks, he had to have the full package as well.
“You sure you want this?” He asked and you glanced up at him.
“I want this.” You almost said need, but bit your tongue.
You looked for any sign that maybe he didn’t want this, but you could find none and that made the urgency flare up in your chest as you brought him closer to you. He went easily, hands gripping your thighs to spread them.
“Spread your legs wider.” He instructed you and you did as you were told, ignoring the slight ache in your thighs at being stretched so wide.
Maybe you should’ve felt embarrassed by the position you were in, on display on your kitchen counter with your dress flipped up to reveal your bottom half. But Daniel was roving his eyes over you like he hadn’t seen anything like it before, and that was enough for the last smidge of self-consciousness to dissipate into thin air.
He took himself in his hand and stroked a couple of times, and you were so mesmerised by the sight of it that you almost missed the way he suddenly halted and looked around.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, frowning and he glanced at you.
“Do you have… anything?”
It took a second for you to gather your thoughts and understand what he meant, and dread suddenly sank in your stomach when you realised that no, you really didn’t have protection.
“Shit.” You swore, frowning as you sat up a bit. You looked at him, eyes searching his face as the most stupid idea crept into your mind. “I don’t— I don’t mind?”
His eyebrows jumped, and you couldn’t blame his surprise because it was a reckless move. But you were on the pill and you hadn’t been sexually active for a while. And maybe you shouldn’t, but you trusted Daniel enough.
“I mean, I’m clean and I’m on the pill.” You quickly added when he still hadn’t said anything.
You briefly contemplated sneaking into the sleeping couple’s room and stealing from Kelly, but the sheer horror you felt at the thought of being caught by your brother was enough for you to dismiss that thought. No way.
“I’m clean too.” Daniel said, placing a hand on your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do it.”
“I’m sure.” You said and you meant it.
Daniel smiled with a nod, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss to your lips and it didn’t take long to fall back into that previous urgency you’d felt. You loved on his lower lip as he stepped forward, slipping two fingers into you and stretching you out for good measure before he gripped himself in his hand and guided you forward on the counter.
It felt like the breath was stolen from you as he breached you, keeping his eyes on your face to watch for any change and your eyelids fluttered shut as he pushed inside.
“Fuuuuck me.” He dragged out the words, struggling to find his breath at the sheer warmth enveloping him. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”
You blinked them open, mouth falling into an O that looked too inviting for Daniel. He kept his eyes on yours as he bottomed out, waiting for a nod from you before he pulled back and thrusted forward, jolting you and making you moan out.
“Fuck, baby.” He set up a good rhythm, leaning his forehead against yours as he started fucking you. “Sound so pretty for me but you need to keep it down. Wouldn’t want your brother to find us like this, do you?”
He groaned when you tightened around him, giving you a particularly hard thrust in retaliation that made you whimper.
“That got you tight.” He turned his head to nudge his nose against your cheek, and you could feel him smile slowly against your skin. You could only imagine how downright filthy it looked. “Does that turn you on? The fact that someone could walk in and see you like this?”
It was a horrifying thought, but you couldn’t deny the heat spreading through your entire body as you imagined it. And Daniel could feel it affecting you, feeling you squeeze around his cock so deliciously tight that he almost faltered in his rhythm.
Your stomach was starting to tighten up, a telltale sign that you were so close but you still needed that incentive; that last push over the edge of wild oblivion. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck to keep you upright while the other one found a home between your legs, fingers a little too slippery to cause any real friction. You let out a frustrated huff and wiped your hands on your dress before returning to touching yourself.
Daniel had his eyes fastened on you the entire time, feeling dangerously close to climaxing but he refused to be the one to come first, staving off for as long as he could.
It was difficult, it was so hard to keep up pace when you were clenching around him like you were subconsciously trying to keep him deep inside. He glanced up at your face and got exactly a two second warning before your mouth fell open and your legs got tight around him.
“Dan—“ The rest of your moan got choked off against the dampness of his shirt as he placed a hand on the back of your head and pressed your face to his shoulder; a poor attempt at muffling your sounds.
He couldn’t hold it off any longer, burying his face against the side of your head. “Where do you want me?” He should’ve pulled out, and he would if you told him so, but you felt heavenly around him and he momentarily wished that he could bury himself deep in your being and never get up for air.
“In.” Your words were trembling, breathless. “In me, please.”
And who was he to deny that, when you were begging so prettily?
“Fuck, sweetheart.” He gave a thrust, two and let out a guttural moan that he struggled to keep inside. Your breathy little noises as he shot off inside you was the only thing he could hear alongside the rush of blood in his ears. “This cunt.”
Your whole world tilted on its axis and you found yourself on your back, the hard and cool plane of the counter a nice contrast against your sweaty back. A giggle left your lips when you glanced down where Daniel had somehow managed to lose his balance, folding himself on top of you.
Daniel glanced up at the sound of your laughter, a dazed smile creeping onto his face and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing the locks away from his forehead so you could get a look at his eyes.
He looked a lot like he did after a gruelling race. Sweaty and flushed, the apples of his cheeks tinted pink. But there was a bliss to him that definitely didn’t come from racing, and you flushed all over when you realized that it was your doing, you’d done that.
It was a powerful feeling to bring a man like that to his knees.
“Sorry.” He apologised as he placed both hands on either side of you, pushing himself up on unsteady feet. He held his hand out and helped you sit up. The stickiness between your legs was starting to cool, feeling uncomfortable and very much like you were in dire need of a shower. “You alright?”
You glanced up at him and smiled. “Perfect.”
He reciprocated the smile, looking like he was a little unsure of how to proceed. You didn’t blame him, because what did you do after that whole ordeal, in a kitchen, nonetheless. You wrapped one leg around his thigh and urged him forward, hands grabbing at his arms when he was close enough.
“You look beautiful.” He said, voice sincere and quiet, just for your ears. It made you feel a little sheepish, but you thought that you’d never get tired of hearing it if it came from his mouth.
“So do you.” You said, words spoken against his lips before he slotted his mouth over yours in a kiss.
The skin around your mouth was feeling a little chafed from his beard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you let yourself be kissed; lost in the taste and smell of him. It was unbelievable how intoxicating he was.
“I’m gonna need a shower after that.” You said, laughing when he gave you a look and burying your face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, wrapping yourself around him - much like a koala bear. Daniel must’ve mirrored your delirious thoughts, because he spoke up a moment later.
“Alright, you little koala bear.” He laughed, sounding five shades of amused as he wrapped his arms around you.
You slapped at his back, “Do not make that a nickname.”
The counter disappeared beneath you as he lifted you, the feeling of being weightless so sudden and jarring that you let out a yelp; arms clutching at him to not fall. He had no intention of dropping you though, hauling you up in his arms until he was holding you steadily.
“What are you doing?” You whispered, half-hushed and it was kind of ridiculous that you were being mindful of your voice after all the noise you’d surely created a few minutes prior.
The possibility of Max walking in felt a lot more dangerous now that you weren’t blind with lust, and you still didn’t know how Daniel felt about screwing his friend’s sister behind his back. It was a lot of feelings to unpack, but you put it in an imaginary box and locked it away in your mind for another day.
“You said you needed a shower.” His smile was blinding as always when you pulled back to look at him. “I’m here to assist.”
“That’s what they’re calling it nowadays? Assisting?” You joked and Daniel raised his brows in amusement as he began navigating the way to the bathroom.
It was an old house, depriving you of an en suite that you desperately wished you had now. You’d never felt a need for it, seeing as you were living alone, but it would’ve lowered the chances of the other two occupants hearing the shower running so late.
Your concerns went up in smoke when Daniel finally found the bathroom, kicking the door shut gently behind him. It was a failed attempt, the door screeching like something out of a scary movie and it made you muffle your laugh behind your hand.
“Gonna need to oil that, love.” He said, putting you down on your feet.
That’s what you’d told yourself a hundred times since moving in, but it had a weird charm to it so you never did. That, and you just never got around to fixing the door.
There was a bizarre thought that was so fleeting that you dismissed it almost immediately, imagining Daniel dropping by in Spain and coming to visit you between GP's. Him in your kitchen with his guard down, doing maintenance work on your house that so desperately needed it. It warmed your heart to the core, thinking of him squeezing you into his busy schedule but then you thought of Max and your thoughts halted.
Max. He'd done nothing throughout your childhood but protect you, being there for you whenever you needed it and you'd been leaning on each other into adulthood. He was the closest person to you in your life, and the thought of going behind his back made something sour bloom in your mouth.
"Hey."
You looked up at the hushed word, blinking in slight confusion when you saw the concern marring Daniel's face. He must've seen you zone out completely and you realized that you'd been deep in your thoughts for a while because the shower was running already.
Daniel reached a hand out to touch your shoulder, just a quick stroke of his fingers against your skin and you felt your body light up at the slightest touch from him.
"Lost you there for a minute." He said, tilting his head to the side to catch your eyes. "What are you thinking about?"
You looked at him, considered lying, but again, what good would it do?
"Max." You said, the name heavy on your tongue.
His face morphed into something unreadable and he regarded you silently. Like he was trying to reach into your brain and dissect your thoughts.
"Look," He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and peered up at you with his beautifully brown eyes. "I want to explore this with you, see where it takes us. Do you?"
You nodded before he'd finished his sentence, relief seeping into your tense body because he understood your sudden fear, he knew what you'd meant.
"Alright." He gave you a smile, radiant and reassuring. "We don't have to involve Max until we're absolutely sure where we stand."
He made it sound so easy, and maybe it was. Maybe you could do this without involving the outside world, exist in your own little bubble and see where it takes you without the added pressure from the public or either families.
Daniel helped you out of your dress, pressing small and fleeting kisses to your shoulder and arms. It was like he was trying to encourage you to take the plunge.
And in some way you did, as you stepped under the spray of the shower with him.
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bbunisre · 3 months
Text
02: MEGUMI IS LIGHTWEIGHT (1.3k words)
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Panda’s parties are always the same—borderline annoying, misogynistic rap music pulsating in your ears and a lot of dancing. A lot. So when you enter the party, swinging your car keys with your fingers and shooting acknowledging nods at mutuals, you’re not surprised to see the same once again.
“They’re here!” a rogue Panda yells, coming through with a red cup.
He hands another one he's holding to you, an unspoken understanding of your frequent drinking habits. It wasn’t that you were an alcoholic (past you would say something else) but you were known for your high tolerance.
“Where’s that bastard Toge? I need to have a word with him.” I ask Panda.
“Oh, I think he’s upstairs. Probably making out with some chick, I don’t know.” Panda shrugs easily.
Even if Panda is the closest to Toge, you know in a heartbeat that Toge is not easily drawn to the temptations of lust as easily as Panda thinks he is. In fact, you guess that Toge's most likely playing on his Switch upstairs, avoiding the party that Panda’s forced him to come to.
You turn to Tsumiki, “I’ll go. Will you be alright?”
“Yeah, all good,” she smiles at me, “Come back soon though. Don’t kill Toge.”
Megumi’s listening to your conversation whilst Yuuji and Nobara argue about who’s the beer pong champion out of the two of them at the entrance of the house. You pull them by their sleeves so they’re not in the way of passing guests anymore.
Sometimes, it feels like you’re babysitting them.
“Can’t promise, babes,” you tell her with a half-shrug.
Tsumiki’s phone starts ringing, “One second.”
She steps out to take the call, leaving you and Megumi a foot apart from each other, “Megumi, how about you?”
“Sorry?” he asks.
Forgetting what Toge's said is a lot more challenging than you expected. You push down the uneasiness in your gut.
“It’s your first party, is it not? How are you feeling?” you ask.
Megumi's expressions are hard to read but after being around him for so long, you’ve become accustomed to his body language.
“I will be alright. Thank you.” he replies politely.
You smile, patting his shoulder, “I’ll come and check on you later.”
Megumi nods and you take your leave to the second floor, a breath of fresh air coddling you at the escape. When you see the familiar Toge in Panda’s bedroom, your estimate is correct. Toge is sprawled on Panda’s bed, playing some Otome game on his Switch. He says he plays it because it’s cringe and he wants to make fun of it...you're starting to think that he really does enjoy it.
“Y/N.” Toge notes.
“Toge.” you reply, sitting on the bed next to him.
He switches off the game and turns to you as you take a languid sip of the drink, “Has Megumi asked you out yet?”
You almost choke in the process, furrowing your eyebrows and swallowing properly. Setting the drink aside, you hit Toge, “You’re out of your mind. He doesn't like me.”
“I mean, it’s always been kind of obvious if you ask me.”
“What are you talking about?” you sigh, “There’s nothing. You’re being delusional.”
Toge rolls his eyes, “No, you are. And he does have a massive crush on you because he was so desperate to believe that you didn’t like girls.”
“That’s a huge sentence coming from your mouth,” you comment, laying down next to him.
The reverberations of the music downstairs make its way up Panda’s creepy staircase and into the bedroom walls.
“He does,” Toge affirms, “I’m sure of it. Besides those tweets, there’s definitely something there.”
“Why are you so insistent about it?” you ask, turning to the white-haired boy.
It’s odd; Toge is usually reserved and calm so when you see him ramble passionately about Megumi, you’re not too sure what it can mean.
“I don’t know,” he answers, turning to you also, “But remember when you broke up with…?”
He waits with bated breath for you to approve.
You sigh, “You can say Choso, Toge.”
“Yeah, Choso...” he nods along, “When you broke up with him last year, he always asked about you through me. You were a mess, a really bad mess, like a really, really, really—“
“A mess. Got it.” you state, remembering those tearful nights.
“Don’t know why he didn’t ask Tsumiki. Maybe he was scared of being found out. Maybe—“
“Maybe he didn’t want Tsumiki to keep thinking about me. Don’t you remember how worried she was about me then? He probably didn’t want to pressure her and he couldn’t ask me because I wasn’t talking to anyone.” you theorise.
“I mean, you could be right but those Tweets.”
“The kids were probably just making fun of him.” you say, getting up.
“Where you going?” he asks.
“Chill, princess. I'm not gonna leave you now.” you respond, walking towards the opened balcony. You can’t believe Panda gets this whole view to himself.
Toge follows you outside and the two of you sink onto the couch outside, watching the neighbourhood as Toge passes you a joint from Panda’s secret stash.
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An hour later, you remembered that you’d go check on Megumi. Sure Tsumiki is there too but she’s super popular, everyone will be talking to her while Megumi explores the unfamiliar terrain by himself.
So you say goodbye to the high Toge and walk back downstairs. Everyone’s dancing and hands drag you to dance but you push them away, saying you need to use the bathroom.
“Where is he?” you ask yourself, wondering around Panda’s house.
You see Tsumiki and Panda talking on the couch, Yuuji and Nobara playing beer pong but where’s Megumi? He's gotta be here somewhere.
“Y/N…”
A heavy hand lands around your shoulders.
“Megumi! Are you okay?”
Megumi’s lids are heavy as he leans onto you.
“Did you drink?”
“I…I thought he said it was a mocktail. I think I had too many cocktails.”
Of course he did.
“Okay, relax. I can’t drive right now because I drank too, but we can go out for a breather, how does that sound? There isn’t much space here for you to sit down.”
Megumi nods, barely processing your words with his eyes closed.
You inhale and prepare for the journey through the pushy and overly welcoming crowd as you make your way to the front door. The excited partygoers ask about his conditions but you give them brief summaries as you battle through the crowd. Finally, when you’re through the front door with a heavy Megumi, you make him sit on the porch’s stairs, “Wait here. I’m gonna get Tsumiki to drive you home.”
As you’re about to leave, he grabs your bicep, “Don’t go.”
You’re staring.
Very obviously staring.
“Please…” he whispers weakly.
“Okay, I won’t.” you answer, sitting next to him. There aren’t many people coming in and out of the party now. Most of them are getting drunk.
Right now, you’re trapped in your own world with Megumi. The last thing you wanted to do tonight, especially after what Toge told you. You didn't know he cared for you that much.
But it can't be true. Megumi can't like you. You're his sister's best friend.
The silence is louder than the rap music playing inside.
“How are you feeling?”
“I regret coming.” he responds.
Slowly, his head tips to your shoulder. You’re not sure if he’s realised he’s done it or the alcohol has consumed every working thought in him.
All you can muster is a nod as you’re glued to his side—thighs pressed together, shoulders smashed and his unruly hair prickling your cold neck.
If what Toge says is true, which it’s not, what would you do in this situation? Would you confront Megumi or would you flee?
“I can go get Tsumiki—“
“Y/N.” he states.
“Yes, Megumi?”
You can’t stop that gut-wrenching sensation in your stomach. Megumi looks up at you, long eyelashes fluttering open. You know what’s coming before it even comes.
“I like you. I like you a lot.”
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LENA'S NOTES - another chapter because ily guys <33
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