Tumgik
#I’m betting it was one of you mutuals
dancingisdangerouss · 2 years
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All right, which one of you fuckers gave me a hand kink?
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it’s so funny to watch as I collect new followers from my IWTV posts only to lose 1 or 2 after a couple of days
i know which posts are making them leave and i will absolutely not stop posting them <3
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sugume · 3 months
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YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
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✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 
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“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 
— 
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  
“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 
“Sweetheart...” 
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 
— 
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 
“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 
‘Are you serious?’ 
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 
— 
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 
“What?” You ask. 
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 
“I don’t care.” 
“Please—” 
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 
— 
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 
‘Oh wow.’ 
‘I know.’ 
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 
‘And what is that?’ 
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  
You nod. 
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 
“N-no!” 
— 
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 
 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  
“No babydoll—” 
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 
“I know it’s a lot of information.” 
“It is.” 
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  
“Suguru—” 
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 
“You okay babydoll?”  
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  
“T-that was—” 
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 
“Same.” You smile before wincing. 
“What’s wrong babydoll.”  
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  
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autball · 1 year
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A non-exhaustive list of the ways autistic people may show empathy even though we are assumed to not have it.
Are these exclusive to autistic people? No, not at all, we're just more often pathologized for them.
If I'm in a relationship with someone who does this, does that mean I just have to suck it up even if it doesn't work for me? No, it doesn't, but you do probably have some adjusting to do. You'll need to treat it as a mutual miscommunication instead of something it's all on the autistic (or ADHD, or whatever) person to fix. You'll have to change some of your expectations and get comfortable asking for (and explaining) the show of empathy you need - and you may even find out that the way you show empathy isn't working so great for them either. 😉
[Image description: AUTISTIC EMPATHY CAN LOOK LIKE… - Infographic by Autball.
White translucent boxes with black lettering inside on a magenta to purple diagonal gradient. The first four boxes read: (1) I’ve been through something similar, so maybe sharing my story will help; (2) Ooh, I know how to fix that! Maybe helping them solve their problem will make them feel better; (3) Oh man, now I have big feelings too! I just feel this so much!; (4) My favorite thing always calms me down, so maybe it’ll help them too. I’ll ask them to do it with me. These four are grouped together with a blue line and labeled: Misinterpreted as “Making it All About You.”
The next four boxes read: (5) I’m not sure how to help, so I’ll leave it to that person who looks like they do; (6) When I’m upset or overwhelmed, I prefer to be left alone, so I’ll bet they would like the same; (7) If I get involved, I’m gonna become overwhelmed myself, and that will take attention from them, so it’s best to just stay out of it; (8) I’m not sure how to help, and I usually make it worse when I try but get it wrong, so it’ll be better for everyone if I just do nothing. These four are grouped together with a blue line and labeled: Misinterpreted as Cold and Uncaring.
At the bottom is one last sentence, in white bold lettering, that reads, “Just because we don’t show it the same doesn’t mean we don’t feel it.”]
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thatbadadvice · 8 months
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Dear Advisor,
I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.
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Dear Awkward Anonymous,
It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.
So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.
Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.
Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)
Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.
Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.
Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.
Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.
It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.
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moonlinos · 3 months
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It’s so tasty, come and chase me
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♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food
♡ Word count: 2.3k
♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.
♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️
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You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.
Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.
Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.
Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.
“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.
Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.
Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.
He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.
Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.
Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.
He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.
“Weren’t you dying?”
“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.
“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”
Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”
“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”
You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”
“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”
He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”
“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”
You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.
You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).
“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”
“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”
“Then stop disrupting me.”
Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.
“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.
“Be my guest,” you shrug.
Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.
But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.
“Excuse me?”
“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”
You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.
He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.
“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.
“Fuck off.”
Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.
But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.
“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”
He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”
You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.
So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.
“I’d love to help you.”
With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.
Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.
“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”
You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.
“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.
“Grab the bag for me, hm?”
You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.
He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.
“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”
Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.
“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”
Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.
“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.
You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.
And then both your eyes land on the cake.
Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.
Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.
“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.
You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.
“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.
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Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.
“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.
After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.
A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.
“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.
“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.
“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”
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♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme
831 notes · View notes
sammygender · 2 years
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i am so. insane. whenever i see any good omens news my fight or flight instinct activates and i start breathing too heavily and feel a bit sick. all because it was my exs favourite show
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haddonfieldwhore · 5 months
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offline - vince dunn
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streamer!vince dunn x reader
summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting
warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one
word count: 0.9k
“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.
you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.
“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.
- is it y/n?
- i bet it’s y/n
- ^^ i wish they would stream together again
“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.
- he’s blushing!!!
- dunner is in love <3
- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//
- are you two dating yet?
- ^^ they’re just friends
- ^^ sure they are lol
"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”
you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.
“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”
“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.
“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”
“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”
“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.
“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”
“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.
“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.
“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.
“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.
“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.
“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.
“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.
“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.
“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”
“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.
“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.
“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.
“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”
prompt @novvasdreamscape
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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revasserium · 7 months
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death before decaf
opla!zoro; 10,414 words; coffee shop/college!au, vague enemies to lovers, fencer!zoro, sports medicine!major reader, slightly ooc zoro (he's a bit more talkative), fluff and flirting, bff!robin, zoro makes the first move, zoro calling reader "princess", mutual pining, both reader and zoro are dumbasses, making out in locker rooms
summary: sanji and nami bet on how long it'll take you and zoro to finally crack over your caffeine-related discourse; or -- that one coffee!shop zoro au that literally no one asked for.
a/n: i keep on saying "this is the longest fic i've written to date" but this really is the longest fic i've written to date. and no, this will not be the only time zoro calls reader "princess" in one of my fics. trust.
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one.
“How long did you say?”
“Two weeks, max.”
“Nah… you think?”
“Probably closer to a week. Week and a half.”
Sanji stubs out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe before tossing the smoking nub into the bin, casting Nami a disbelieving look.
“They’ve been going on like this for like three months… and you think they’re gonna crack in the next week and a half? Nah, fam — I call bullshit.”
Nami shrugs, smirking, “Your funeral.”
Sanji scoffs as Nami pushes through the swinging double doors into the main body of the cafe, hitching a smile onto her face as she greets the customers already lined up in front of the counter.
“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters to himself, dusting his hands off on his apron before pushing in after her, putting on his best customer-service smile.
“Mornin’ folks! Welcome to the Straw Hats Cafe, where the coffee’s hot but the people are hotter — what can I get started for you, sweetheart?” he grins as he shoots you a wink and you flash him your best Colgate smile.
“Can I get a decaf latte with —”
“Oat milk, two pumps of caramel, and whipped cream on top? Oh — and a sprinkle of cinnamon cause you can’t have a fall latte without cinnamon, right?” Sanji finishes for you.
You nod, your cheeks flushed a bright, wind-kissed pink from the cold outside.
Behind you, a green-haired boy in a tight-fitting tee and no jacket scoffs under his breath, shaking his head.
“Yep! You know me so well,” you say, giggling and making a point to speak just a bit louder.
“Course I do, darlin’. It’s what I get paid for,” Sanji jots down your order and pushes it to the side where Nami’s already halfway done with making your drink.
“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite mosshead jock — lemme guess, double espresso, no sugar, no nothin’, right?” Sanji punches in the order just as Zoro makes his way up to the counter, his eyes narrowed.
“Yeah.”
Sanji grins, hiking an eyebrow, “Talkative as always, I see. Alright — that’d be —”
Zoro wordlessly slides a full punch card onto the counter and Sanji pauses.
“Ah — pardon me, I do believe that’s your free drink! You sure you wanna use it on an espresso? Maybe… you wanna try one of our seasonal specials? The maple spice latte’s one of our best —”
Zoro scoffs again, “I’m good. I like my coffee real, thanks.”
Down passed the pastries, you roll your eyes, making an exaggerated face as Nami hands you your drink with a grin.
“Y’know, if you guys just made out I feel like it would fix a lot of this unresolved tension,” she says, even as you nearly choke on your drink.
You’re still coughing when Zoro joins you by the finished drinks counter.
“I’d rather lose an eye than make out with someone who drinks decaf.”
Nami sighs, shooting you a meaningful look as she slides the double espresso toward Zoro.
You wipe your lips with a napkin before leveling him with a glare.
“Well I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than make out with someone who never grew out of his middle school emo-phase.”
“At least I don’t try to use sugar to fill the gaping hole in your life where a real personality should be.”
“At least I don’t make that gaping hole my entire personality.”
“Princess.”
“Edgelord.”
You turn resolutely away from Zoro and smile back at Nami and Sanji, both stealing glances at the pair of you even as they continue to handle the Monday morning rush.
“Thank you guys — I’m gonna be late for class.
Zoro tsks, taking a sip of his espresso.
“I’m gonna be late for practice.”
You huff, pivoting away from him towards the door, purposefully letting it swing shut behind you; Zoro swears as it almost makes him spill his coffee.
Back in the coffee shop, Sanji finishes another order just as Nami washes off her hands to take over at the cashier.
“One and a half weeks?” Sanji asks as he rolls up his sleeves and grabs a few metal cups for steamed milk.
“Yep,” Nami replies, shooting another look out the glass door where they can both still see your’s and Zoro’s silhouettes as you head towards the university campus, “Just about.”
“Alright then, you’re on.”
Nami’s smirk only grows, “Like I said — your funeral.”
two.
You’re fuming all the way to your first morning class — Bio-Organic Chemistry — that you don’t notice your friend Robin until she’s standing right next to you.
“Are you mad at your fencer-boy again?”
You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath, “He’s not my fencer-boy, and no. I’m not mad.”
Robin grins, “Your tone says different.”
You cast her a reproachful look, “I just… bumped into him at the coffee shop again.”
“Ah,” Robin says, her voice saturated with understanding.
You groan, “He just… pisses me off so much! Like, why’s he care how much sugar I put in my drinks or if I drink decaf? He’s just a muscle-head loser who thinks drinking espresso shots makes him somehow more manly or something. Ugh.”
Robin’s grin is amused when you turn to chance her a glance.
“Then… why do you care how he takes his coffee?” Her question is light, but you’ve known her for long enough to know when she’s teasing.
“I didn’t! At least… not until he made fun of my drink first. I mean, who does that anymore? We’re in college! Like, grow up!”
“Mm,” Robin hums, schooling her expression into one of careful consideration and marked compassion, “and of course, you’re just engaging in his… childish antics because he started it first, right?”
You sigh, cupping your very sugary latte between your palms as you both duck into the main lecture building, teaming with students shedding scarves and jackets, shaking off the late autumn chill.
“I know, I know it’s stupid but… he just… pisses me off so much!”
Robin chuckles, her smile distinctly sphinx-like as you press your lips into a pout.
“Well, we can talk about it after morning lecture, hm?”
You sigh and nod, waving her off as she heads down the hallway towards her Ancient Worlds class and you head upstairs for the sciences.
You spend the whole lecture in a mood and by the time you’re excused, your temples have started to throb.
But true to her word, you find Robin waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, a thick leather-bound book clutched to her chest. You give her a questioning look.
“Just some light reading,” she says. You roll your eyes.
“Just say you’re a gigantic nerd and go.”
At this Robin laughs, falling into step next to you as you both start to make your way towards the dining commons.
“Have I ever denied that I was?”
You let out a noncommittal grunt.
Luckily, the commons isn‘t as crowded as it usually is and you both quickly find a seat.
“So,” Robin says as she slides into the seat next to you, propping up her chin on the heel of her hand. There’s a low, lilting tone to her voice that tells you there’s no getting out of it this time.
You sigh again, pursing your lips, staring down at your açaí bowl.
“So what?”
“Tell me about him.”
You scoff, “Not really much to tell — he’s… one of the fencers on the national team. So obviously, he’s got his own head shoved so far up his ass he can probably watch his own lunch dige—“
“So he’s quite good at fencing then.” Robin keeps her voice neutral, taking a contemplative bite of a banana.
“I guess — I mean we’re the top feeder school for the Olympic team, aren’t we?” You jab your spoon into the yogurt, nearly splattering Robin’s new book. She gently tucks it into her bag and motions for you to continue.
“I dunno, there’s not much to tell after that… he’s an arrogant jock who judges people by how they take their coffee,” and at this, you shove a large spoonful of yogurt and açaí into your mouth, glaring at nothing in particular.
“Doesn’t your practical applications class look after the fencing team?”
Again, you grunt, sinking a bit further into your seat at the thought.
“Yeah, I’ve been dreading that all morning, and the class isn’t till Wednesday.”
Robin’s smile is almost too academic as she carefully finishes her banana and gets started on an egg salad sandwich.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?”
You sniff, swallowing another huge mouthful of yogurt.
“It can,” you say, grimacing, “You should see the number of times I’ve had to hold back from dislocating his shoulder on purpose.”
Robin laughs her tinkling, all-knowing laugh, “Every day, I wake up glad to be on your whitelist.”
Your lips twitch into a reluctant grin.
“I’d be nicer too if I were as tall and pretty as you are. But since I’m not one of god’s strongest soldiers, I’ve gotta find other ways of defending myself, y’know?”
“I’m not sure what you do can be called ‘self-defense’ in a court of law but…” she smiles, “You shouldn’t sell yourself short either.”
You cast her a deadpan look, “But I am short. It’s like where 90% of my rage and spite come from.”
Robin grins, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
You make a rather childish face, but a comfortable warmth spreads from the center of your chest out towards all your extremities at Robin’s words. She cocks her head and continues.
“Plus… I’ve a creeping suspicion that your fencer-boy would agree that you’re prettier than you think.”
You freeze mid-swallow on your last spoonful of yogurt, eyes wide.
“Wait — what?”
Robin sighs, looking at you as if studying a particularly interesting monolith carved with all her favorite dead languages. You sit back, crossing your arms, feeling raw beneath her inquisitive gaze.
“You can’t still think that this little… feud you two have is purely based on a difference in coffee preference, can you?”
You realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip and force yourself to stop.
“I — I don’t know how it can be anything else though…” but even to your own ears, you sound distinctly unconvinced. Robin cocks her head.
“Think about it — when we were all little kids and running around on playground, which girls would get their pigtails pulled the most?”
Your frown deepens, “But we’re not kids anymore and this isn’t a play —“
“Yes, I know. Just humor me for a moment.”
You squirm in your seat, your heart thudding erratically in your rib cage, making you feel strangely breathless.
“It was… always the girls that the boys had a crush on,” you answer, your voice growing smaller with each word as the realization seeps into your skin like sunlight. And suddenly, it's too hot. The thought that Zoro might be doing this because he likes you isn’t something that’s crossed your mind. Or rather, it isn’t a thought you’d allowed to cross your mind.
“You know, boys aren’t technically considered ‘men’ until they’re in their mid-thirties,” Robin says, conversational and satisfied to have driven the point home to you. She leans back even as you reach up to press your face into the palms of your hands.
“But…” you try to grasp for some thread of logic that might be able to refute Robin’s claim but come up empty. She’s always been too smart for her own good. And yours.
When you finally lift your head again, it’s to find Robin still watching you, an oddly indulgent smile on her lips.
“C’mon,” she says, gathering her things, “don’t want you to be late for your next lecture.”
She has the audacity to wink as you hurriedly grab your stuff as well.
“Shut up,” you say, bumping her lightly with your elbow as you walk passed her, cheeks darkening with every step. Your next lecture, you both know, is the Nutrition of Sports — which is one of the few actual classes that you and Zoro actually share.
“Have fun in class!” Robin calls as you split ways outside the dining commons. You consider flipping her off but decide against it and opt to stick out your tongue at her instead.
Robin shakes her head, laughing quietly to herself. Really, she thinks, this is just starting to get interesting.
three.
You walk into Nutrition of Sports fully prepared to see Zoro slouched in his usual seat at the back of the class — except, he’s not there. You blink; he’s always been there, always early despite what others might assume of his punctuality. And yet.
“Lookin’ for me, Princess?”
You jump as you hear Zoro’s voice behind you, dangerously close to your ear. Jerking around, you find him smirking, arms crossed as he stares at you.
“N-no.”
“Tch.” He saunters into the room, his arm barely grazing yours as he drops into his seat, leaning back with a sort of damnable, feline grace, doing nothing to hide a huge, lethargic yawn. When he makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, you pause as you notice the way he winces, favoring his left side over his right.
You narrow your eyes.
“You’d be a shit poker player,” he says, grinning as he turns his eyes back towards you, catching you staring before you flush a deep purple and stomp towards your own seat, just one row ahead of him.
You noisily start setting up your supplies — an endless parade of jelly pens and perfectly coordinated sticky notes in aesthetically pleasing colors — pretending like you hadn’t heard him.
Thankfully, the professor hurries in soon after as the rest of the students file in.
Halfway through the lecture, you’re stifling the third yawn of the hour as you feel a small, crumpled something hit the back of your neck. You jerk around to find Zoro ducking behind his arms even as you spot the small wad of paper that he’d obviously just tossed at you.
You bend down to pick it up, only to find a note scribbled in slanted, uneven handwriting —
Sugar crash? Ha. Serves you right.
You nearly whip around but the professor clicks another slide and drones on. You huff, flipping the paper over to scribble on the back —
What happened to your arm?
You surreptitiously toss the note back to him and grin to yourself as you hear him sputtering behind you. The professor glances towards you. You flash him a winning smile as you continue to jot down notes; behind you, you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro scrambling to appear as if he’s paying attention.
The rest of the lecture goes by uninterrupted, though by the end, you swear that your hackles are raised from the way Zoro’s been staring at the back of your neck the entire time.
“What?” you ask, whipping around to face him.
Zoro, for his part, has the decency to look sheepish as he clears his throat and sighs, leaning back.
“There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” he says as he looks away, a slight darkness dusting the high of his cheeks. It’s not the first time you notice the bone-chiseled features of his face — like some gorgeous, careless god, rendered by the loving hands of a besotted Renaissance artist and preserved for the world to see — the way a constellation of freckles scatter across the bridge of his nose, the way his jaw is sharp enough to sting the imagination.
“Right. Fine. Sorry I asked.” You shove your notes and pens back into your bag, rolling your eyes as you shoulder your tote, “And… you’d be a shit poker player too.”
And with that, you turn and leave the room without a single backward glance.
You’re gone so quick that you don’t see the way Zoro stares after you, his own eyes narrowed into slits. You don’t see the way he frowns as one of his teammates nudges him with an elbow, reminding him that afternoon practice starts in 15 minutes.
four.
Tuesday night finds you slumped over a stack of books on the 3rd floor of the library, your entire body feeling odd and boneless. Hundreds of tiny flashcards are scattered across the top of the desk, each filled with a system you have to memorize before your test on Friday for your O-Chem course, when suddenly, a white paper cup appears in your field of vision, plopping onto the tiny slip of table still available between all your study materials.
“Hm?” you jerk up, blinking blearily up at a vaguely familiar green-haired figure even as he crosses his arms and sighs.
“There. Some real coffee. Looked like you need it,” Zoro says, glancing away the moment your eyes come into focus.
You stare at him for a solid ten seconds before looking back down at the cheap, watered-down cup of unsweetened coffee on the table before you.
Ew, you want to say, but somehow, “Thanks,” is what comes out of your mouth.
You reach for the cup, wincing slightly as you jerk your fingers back from the scalding exterior of the thin paper cup.
Zoro immediately leans down, snatching the cup from the table to blow on the surface. You watch him with wide, wondering eyes. It takes him a second to catch himself before he blushes a deep shade of maroon and clears his throat, quickly setting the cup back down on your desk, tucking both his hands into his pockets, looking anywhere but directly at you.
“It’s — careful — I mean — it’s from the vending machine downstairs so it’s not as fancy as the stuff we get from the coffee shop —”
Maybe it’s because you’re truly too tired, or maybe because Robin’s been right since day one but — you reach for the cup, carefully cradling it between your palms as you take a tentative sip and grimace at the watery, bitter aftertaste.
“Gross,” you say, though without any malice, glancing up at him. Zoro scoffs, dragging out an empty seat across from you, turning it around to straddle the chair, propping both his arms on the back as he looks at you. Your eyes once more catch on the way he’s gentler with his right side.
“What’s wrong with your arm?” you ask again, taking another tentative sip of the truly awful coffee.
Zoro grimaces, “None of your business.”
You sigh, the will to snark back rather feeble as you consider the mountain of vocab you have to memorize before your Friday test.
“Right, sure — keep your secrets,” you drone as you set the paper cup down and nudge it further away from you, “be mysterious for the next —” you check your watch, “eighteen hours before Practical Applications when you’ll have to explain to Coach Mihawk why you've been lying about an obvious injury three weeks before your next —”
“Fuck — okay.”
You pause, looking up from collecting your flash cards.
Zoro digs his fingers into his right shoulder.
“I — I think I pulled it at the tournament last week.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, “Your tournament was on Thursday.”
Zoro shifts uncomfortably, “And?”
“And it’s now Tuesday.”
Zoro doesn’t answer this time, but you have to actively fight down the urge to throw the no-longer-scalding-but-still-very-hot-coffee at his face. You tell yourself that the only thing stopping you is professionalism and sportsmanship instead of an unwillingness to damage his Michaelangelo-sculpted features.
“It’s been five days!”
Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to count.”
You bite back a frustrated scream as you push away from your chair and round the table to stand behind him, not giving him enough time to be bewildered before you press a palm to his right shoulder, already focused on finding the tender spots.
“Tell me where it hurts.”
You run an expert palm over the width of his shoulders, focusing on his right, fingers digging into various muscle groups until he winces.
“Ow.”
You grin as you find a tender patch to the right of his spine, almost beneath his shoulder blade.
“You strained your Rhomboid.”
“Gesundheit.”
You roll your eyes and reach over his back for the cup of coffee. You feel his breath hitch as your front presses full against his back.
“Hold still,” you say, pressing the side of the warm cup to the sore muscle.
Zoro makes a choked moaning noise that he tries to bite off, but not soon enough. It sizzles down your spine to curl at the base of your belly, spreading heat through your body in a way you have no urge to examine at this current point in time.
You hold it there for a minute, and then two, till the coffee’s gone lukewarm.
“Here,” you say, tugging the cup away to offer it to him.
He stares at the cup before glancing up at you.
“Caffeine helps with muscle soreness and pain — it’s probably why you’re so addicted to espresso all the time,” you offer by way of an explanation, even as he opens his mouth to ask. He closes his mouth and takes the coffee, downing half of it in a single gulp.
Then, he sets it down on the table before digging a crumpled packet of sugar out of his pants pocket.
“It’s… probably not as sweet as you usually like it but…” he presses it into the palm of your hand, looking anywhere but at your face, “should help the bitterness.”
And then he’s gone, slouching off towards the elevator bank, leaving you gaping after him with the packet of sugar in your hand, your rapidly cooling coffee, and a mountain of revisions you’ve got no hope of finishing tonight.
five.
Wednesday finds you practically sprinting as you reach your Practical Applications course, clutching at your chest as you burst through the gym doors, gasping for breath. Professor Kureha quirks an inquiring eyebrow at you while Mihawk, the fencing instructor, slates you a sharp, rueful glare.
“— as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” his bright hawk-yellow eyes flash back over the fencing team, “regionals are quickly approaching and we need you in top form. So — warm-ups stretches, everyone. Pair up and get to it. Zoro, up here with me.”
You duck your head and hurry towards your normal spot along the bleachers, slowing as you notice what looks like a cup of coffee from the Straw Hats Cafe occupying the place where you normally sit. You pick up the cup — it’s still hot to the touch.
On the coffee slip is a single word — Princess.
And though it’s in Sanji’s familiar coffee shop scrawl, only one person has ever called you that.
Heat crests up your chest, prickling at your cheeks. You don’t have to taste it to know that it’s your order — your favorite order. Briefly, you wonder if Sanji made Zoro recite the entire thing before agreeing to put it down, or if he’d spared Zoro the pain of having to say the word ‘decaf’ unironically.
And then you wonder if Nami teased him at all, waiting for his own drink on top of yours.
“Chop chop,” Professor Kureha says, grinning too wide as she wanders over, peering at you over her John Lennon shades, “you heard old Hawk-eyes — time to pair up.”
You hurriedly drop your bag and take a quick sip of our drink, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as the caramel-cinnamon goodness seeps into your blood vessels. Some nameless freshman hopeful from the fencing team is your partner for stretches and you patiently walk him through all the major motions, pushing on his back and laughing kindly when he can’t quite reach his toes.
You feel the faint tingle on the back of your neck that tells you someone’s staring, and you privately think that you don’t need three guesses to figure out who it is. But you don’t give Zoro the satisfaction of looking over till you help the blushing freshman finish all his stretches, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, reaching up on tip-toe to ruffle his hair even though he’s got a solid four inches over you.
When finally, you glance over towards where Mihawk is putting Zoro through his paces, it’s to find him flickering through the motions — flashes of silver, lithe, fluid — and you find your breath held captive in your chest by the sight.
You’ve always known Zoro to be a graceful fencer, but grace has nothing on the way he flows from one move to the next, each muscle drawn like a bow-string, each intake of breath timed and perfect. His arms and legs move in tandem and there’s a bewitching rhythm to the way his body breaks and bends. It is beauty and strength, dance and magic — power and promise and the sword-tip’s whish of premonition.
When he finishes, you suck in a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding.
You watch as Mihawk murmurs something to Zoro, who winces, looking chastened before Mihawk waves him away and Zoro sets down his epee, making his way over to you.
You open your mouth, about to make some snarky remark but Zoro reaches over his back with one hand and tugs his shirt off in a single, unbroken motion. You gulp, your voice failing you as your eyes settle on the strong ripple of his muscles as he tosses his shirt aside.
Zoro smirks, “Keep starin’ and I’m gonna have to start charging.”
You rip your eyes away, fire licking up the length of your torso as you reach into your bag for a roll of sports tape.
Zoro slumps down in the seat in front of you as you take stock of his sweat-slicked torso, your eyes still catching on the patch of swollen muscle beneath his shoulder blade. You reach forward and run a thumb along it, careful of the way he hisses.
“A hot-patch is only going to do so much,” you say, frowning as you drop the sports tape to focus on massaging the tender bit of skin.
Zoro groans, his eyes falling half shut as you slowly work at the various knots in his shoulders. Your fingers are slow and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure. And more than once, Zoro has to bite back what he’s sure would’ve been an indecent moan before it rolls out of his mouth at the way your soft palms press into the planes of his back, the tenseness of his shoulders.
“Keep moaning like that, I’m gonna have to start charging,” you say, much too close to his ear.
Zoro jerks, even as you pull back, laughing. The sound makes his skin prickle up with goosebumps and he doesn’t want to think about the myriad reasons why.
“I bought you coffee, twice,” he grumbles, cheeks pink, his mind still buzzing from the warmth of your palms.
You hum, your fingers flickering over his skin, pulling away for a second before he feels something wonderful and cool pressing against his sore, aching muscles.
“You’re right… you did buy me coffee twice. Even though the first time was horrible vending machine coffee and I used most of it as a heating pad for your injury.”
Zoro grunts, letting you manhandle him as you gently twist his right arm into an array of different stretches to test his range of mobility.
“Still counts.”
You put down his right arm to test his left. Zoro chooses not to think about the way his body tingles where your hands touch him, and especially not where you’re standing too close, your chest occasionally brushing against his shoulder. He chooses actively not to think about the way he can smell the soft, coconut milk fragrance of your lotion as you lean over him, rambling about doing the proper warm-up and cool-down exercises.
He grins as you reach over mid-sentence to finish your drink and you pause, watching him with narrowed eyes.
“What?”
He shrugs, “Nothin’… just that… seems like you liked your drink.”
Your eyes slingshot from his face to the nearly empty cup in your hands.
“I always like my —”
They widen when you realize that Zoro had in fact ordered a double shot of espresso in your usual drink instead of your normal decaf. And, that you’d been too distracted by him to notice.
“I — it — wh —”
Zoro languidly rises from his seat, grinning, “Thanks for the treatment, Princess. I owe you one — lemme buy you a coffee sometime, yeah?”
You stare after him as he makes his way across the room, back to the rest of the team for proper bouts. You force down another blush as you shove the now-empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can, your heart skidding to the rhythmic squeak of feet shuffling against the floors, the bell-like ting of epee blades, the murmur of the watching crowd.
six.
Thursday morning finds you ill-rested and grumpy as you join Robin in the quad, heading for the Straw Hats Cafe during free period.
“Trouble sleeping?” Robin asks, looking you over with mild concern.
You grunt, adjusting your bag, “Had coffee too late in the day.”
At this, Robin frowns, “But you only drink decaf.”
You grunt again, not looking at her, “Yeah, well.”
Robin blinks for a second before a knowing smile splits her lips, “Ah… so. Fencer-boy’s made his move.”
You round on her, fists clenched, “He has not! He just — he just bought me coffee!”
Robin remains infuriatingly unfazed as she stares at you, “Yes. And to most, that would constitute as ‘making a move’. And here I thought you were a fan of romance novels.”
You turn away from her, huffing even as your cheeks fill with color, “I — I am.”
“So?” she asks.
“So?” you echo, cursing yourself for sounding like a petulant child.
“So…” she continues, patient as always, “he bought you coffee.”
You crinkle your nose, your stomach a roiling mess as the pair of you make your way across the quad and duck into the cafe to Sanji’s bright, welcoming voice, your eyes scanning the queue even though you know that Zoro’s got morning practice. This does not go unnoticed by Robin, though she mercifully elects to not question you about it.
“Yes, he bought me coffee. But instead of decaf, he made it a double-shot.” You try very hard to make this sound like a personal affront, but Robin only dips her head.
“Ah,” she says again, and you feel the urge to run out of the building even as the pair of you shuffle towards the front of the line.
“Hi there, oh! I’ve got a special message for you,” Nami says as you get to the registers, her voice silken with glee as she reaches behind the counter to tug out what looks like a receipt. You glance down at the paper, confused, but she only winks as she moves to ask what Robin would like.
You inch to the side, distracted by this strange turn, your eyes dropping to the slip of paper, upon which is scribbled — Good luck on test tomorrow. Evening bout. Gym.
You stare at the cryptic message for a full minute before Robin ushers you toward the counter where Sanji is pumping out drinks, making girls blush as he winks at them each in turn.
“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Decaf Princess — though… seems like your tastes are a-changin’ these days,” Sanji says, grinning wide as you get to the counter, pushing a steaming cup towards you. You frown at the drink — cinnamon sprinkled atop a perfectly placed dollop of whipped cream, underneath which you’re sure is your favorite drink order. You look back up at Sanji.
“A certain mosshead jock put in an advanced order for you — said to give you an extra shot of espresso for the test you’ve got tomorrow.”
You sputter as Robin laughs beside you, thanking Sanji for her own Long Black.
“You know, you could just be normal and call it an Americano,” you say as the pair of you make your way out of the cafe. Robin grins, sipping at her drink.
“I could… but where’s the fun in that?” she slates you a glance, “More importantly, are you going?”
“To what?” you ask, not meaning to sound so defensive, but you can’t help it, and even as Robin sighs, you know that it’s useless.
“To the bout,” she says, unruffled.
You hunch into your upturned collar and your thick, layered scarf, cradling your drink, the sweet scent of syrup and cinnamon wafting up to tickle your nose. You blush at the thought of Zoro’s voice, full of morning gravel, shy as he lists out all the extremities you like in your coffee order.
“Maybe. I mean… why not, right?”
Robin nods, humming as she takes another long drink, “Mhm — why not indeed.”
You nudge her; she nudges you back. You both laugh as a church bell rings out from across the quad, sending a flock of birds scattering through the misty, morning air.
seven.
Friday evening finds you pushing through the wide gym doors, pressing your hands over the skirt you’d painstakingly picked out, chewing on your bottom lip.
You silently curse at Robin for pulling out last minute, begging off to some Ancient Languages focus group.
“I bet it’s not even real…” you mutter to yourself as you slip into the front row of the bleachers, looking for an empty seat. You somehow manage to look up just as Zoro is about to go on, his mask under one arm, his blade in the other.
You raise your hand in a half wave before catching yourself and shoving it back down, scowling as Zoro’s lips pull into a lopsided grin. You drop into a seat just as Zoro tugs his helmet on and stretches his arms. You tense as you see the slight wince he twitches away as he tests the weight of his blade.
But you needn’t have worried — the bout is quick and decisive, Zoro scoring one point after another, his blade flashing through the air, bright as fish scales. And before you know it, the buzzer sounds, marking his victory. You leap to your feet, cheering with the rest of the crowd as Zoro tugs off his mask and pumps his fists.
You catch his eye and for a moment, the wild rumble of the screaming crowd fades to a dull, thumping baseline. He jerks his head towards the lockers and you nod, swallowing hard as you duck through the still-cheering crowd towards the back of the gym.
When you get there, it’s to find him methodically polishing his blade, his mask set to the side, his thick jacket pulled down to pool around his waist, the rest of his protective wear scattered in heaps on the ground around him. You have half a mind to scold him for being so careless with what you know is expensive gear but you can’t keep yourself from staring at the wide planes of back, curving up to his shoulders, the thick cords of muscle that flex up either side of his neck.
He looks up as you shuffle in, your skirt suddenly feeling a bit too short, too risque for the near-winter weather outside.
You clear your throat and cast your eyes about the empty lockers. You don’t miss the way his gaze skates up your bare legs, pausing at the place where your skirt brushes the top of your thighs.
“Uhm — how’s your shoulder?” your voice sounds too high, echoing strangely along the white-tiled walls.
Zoro licks his lips and puts down his blade, rolling his right shoulder.
“Better but… still not great. Mihawk’s making me to do PT.”
You nod, letting out a soft laugh, “I’m glad. You’d never do it otherwise.”
He scoffs, “You know what that means though, right?” There’s a raw, rolling tension beneath his words, a sort of thickened expectation as he stares at you with dark, meaningful eyes.
You purse your lips, your stomach tightening.
“I —”
Zoro gets to his feet, and you barely register the soft clatter of his blade as it rolls to the side on the bench. He closes the space between you in three quick steps and you find yourself marveling at his speed — wondering vaguely if this is how all his opponents feel when he slips forward, the tip of his blade digging into their shoulder or stomach or the bend of their hip.
“Means we’re stuck with each other. At least till you fix me for regionals in two weeks.”
Your back meets the icy chill of the locker doors and the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them —
“Bold of you to assume that you’re fixable in two weeks.”
Zoro quirks an eyebrow, even as you resist the urge to clap your hands to your mouth, cursing inwardly at whatever the hell made you say that out loud. Your heart thuds an insistent drumbeat inside your chest as Zoro leans casually against the lockers next to you. Like this, you can feel the heat of his skin, the rhythm of his long breaths as he looks you over with sharp, curious eyes.
You think you can taste the sweet, tepid weight of his breath. It smells faintly of coffee and mint and synthetically flavored protein bars.
“Then…” he drawls, propping an arm against the locker door right next to your face, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again. Your gaze is unabashedly caught on the shape of his mouth, but when you finally force yourself to look up at his eyes, it’s to find them warm and amused.
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
You gulp, “To fix your shoulder?”
Zoro shrugs, “That and… whatever else you think needs to be fixed.”
You purse your lips, an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words.
“Who knows? Might take three weeks… might take — forever —” your words cut off as he leans in to graze his lips against yours. And you’re momentarily caught between delight and bewilderment that you’re right — they do taste of coffee and mint and salt — but that they also taste of a dull, throbbing hunger as he leans in to kiss you proper. And then, the blooming realization that you’re just as desperate as he is, pushing in, fingers scrabbling against the skin of his chest as his skim along the sides of your ribs, the dip of your waist.
He kisses you so deep and so long that you’re actually gasping when he finally pulls away to suck a stinging hickey into the smooth of your collarbone, his fingers digging grooves into your thighs as he hoists you up to press you against the cold, hard metal of the lockers.
You let out a clipped moan at the same time he does, and his right arm twitches, though he makes no move to let you go.
Distantly, your mind registers the fact that he’s still technically injured, but the part of you that’s hungry and clawing at the base of your stomach with a fierce, immutable need refuses to listen to reason. It takes more effort than it logically should’ve done to extricate yourself from his grasp, to push him away despite his disgruntled sigh as he stumbles back and stares at you with dark, dangerous eyes.
“What —”
“Fuck —” you hiss, even as you let your head fall back against the lockers, the dull thunk pulling a wolfish grin to his lips.
“Yeah, well —”
“Wait — no —”
Zoro cocks his head, “No?”
You reach forward to tug him back, to kiss him as deeply and desperately as you dare, but you pull away before he can properly sink into the kiss and you pin him with a look.
“We — your shoulder —”
“Fuck my shoulder —”
You shake your head, almost delusional with the heat and want and the insanity of it all, “No! We can’t! We — we’ve gotta take care of it first!”
Zoro rolls his eyes, “It’ll get better if we just leave it alone —”
You shake your head again, laughing as he presses back in, slower this time, grazing his knuckles along the skin of your jaw, tilting you back towards him.
“It won’t,” you say, softly, letting him run a thumb along your lips, “but… if you let me take care of it. It will heal faster…” you trail off, letting the implications simmer beneath the surface of all your unsaid words, and it only takes a second for Zoro to consider before he lowers you to the floor and starts haphazardly gathering up his things.
You drag a hand across your lips, watching him.
“So…” you feel yourself blush as you muster up the words but Zoro scoffs, already impatient as he shoves his stuff into one of the larger lockers and slams the door.
“Mine. It’s closer.”
eight.
His, is — in fact — much closer than you’d thought. Only two blocks from the campus, and in one of the most expensive dorm buildings. You wonder how much he must be paying for it before you realize that he's on a sports scholarship, but you can’t even bring yourself to be bitter as he lets you into his spacious dorm, the giant living room scattered with game consoles and opened cereal boxes, leading to a short hallway that opens into his bedroom.
It’s cleaner than you’d imagined, with a set of light green linens drawn neatly over a full-sized bed, and two sets of pillows.
“Sorry for the mess,” he says, sweeping some energy bar wrappers into the trash from his desk as he tosses down his duffle bag.
You shake your head, looking around, your eyes catching on the thick volumes of fencing books, the endless stacks of sports magazines, the huge set of free weights on a rack in the corner by the closet.
“Uh… do you want a drink?” he asks, suddenly awkward as he scratches at the back of his head.
You turn towards him with a grin, “No. But I do want you to take off your shirt.”
Zoro blinks before he smiles and moves towards the bed, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as he leans back on the bed, his perfectly tanned stomach flexing beneath the slanted desk-light as he watches you through lazily hooded eyes.
“On your stomach,” you say, your voice light and surgical as you open your own bag and tug out a tub of medicated massage cream.
Zoro stares for a second before the smile slips off his face to be replaced by a dull, knowing scowl. Still, he doesn’t argue as he flips onto his stomach and sighs, pillowing his cheek on his arms as he pouts at the wall.
“Like I told you — we need to take care of your shoulder first. Regionals are in two weeks. We can’t have you performing like you did tonight.”
Zoro attempts a glare over his shoulder as you carefully maneuver over his back and straddle his hips, warming your palms with the massage cream before setting to work.
“I still won.”
His voice is tight and petulant. You nod, sighing as you work your thumbs into the dip beneath his shoulder blade where you know he’s still sore. He hisses, jerking away from you. You pin him in place with your free arm and continue to roll your thumb across the bundle of muscle.
Two minutes in, you press a bit harder and he lets out a pitched whine that makes you pause in your ministrations.
“F-fuck —” he buries his face in his pillow, thumping a fist against his bed as you laugh and continue the massage, though taking care to be a bit more careful around his injury.
Nearly twenty minutes later, you climb off the bed and wipe your hands. Zoro groans, shifting to watch you with half-lidded eyes and color-stained cheeks.
“I know,” you say, holding up your hands, “that really hurt but you feel much better now, right?”
Zoro grins, sleepy as he blinks slowly up at you, “Yeah. Whatever.”
And then, a long moment later —
“Hey,” he says, his voice soft, flipping onto his side and shifting on the bed as if to make room for you, “stay.”
You freeze, almost unwilling to believe your own ears as you finish putting away your supplies. You glance at him with tight lips and hopeful eyes.
There’s a tiny grin threatening the corners of his lips as he sighs, making a show of yawning and stretching.
“It’s late… and I don’t really feel like walking you back.”
You fold your arms, “I could just call campus security to escort me.”
Zoro stills for a second but a moment later, he casts his eyes up at the ceiling, “Yeah… you could…”
You make no move to leave.
“But you still owe me coffee in the morning,” he says.
You frown, “Wait, what? How’s that?”
He glances at you, “I’ve bought you coffee twice.”
“Yeah, but I just gave you a free 30-minute medical massage treatment for your shoulder.”
“You would’ve had to do it anyway on Wednesday in Practical Applications.”
You narrow your eyes, “Professor Kureha might not have assigned me to you.”
At this, Zoro scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re the best, and so am I.”
“S-she might not have!” you say, though there’s no real conviction in your voice. You both know that he’s right.
“Yeah. Whatever.” He turns away from you, making as if to go to sleep.
You glare at his back, dropping your bag with a loud thump.
“If anything, you owe me coffee now. That massage was worth at least two coffees, if not more.” You plop down on the edge of his bed, scowling at the opposite wall.
Zoro is quiet for a beat too long and you chance a glance at him, only to find him peering you with a strangely indulgent look in his eyes. You blush, tearing your eyes away.
“How’s breakfast?” he asks, his voice once again going soft. Your skin prickles with heat.
“What about breakfast?”
“Coffee and breakfast. That enough to pay for the massage?”
You can’t help the smile that threatens to break across your lips as you glance back at him and catch his eyes.
“I…. guess.”
Zoro chuckles, the sound so low in his throat that it makes you shiver. Quick as anything, he reaches over to pull you down towards him, easily looping an arm around your middle and flipping you both so that you’re pinned beneath him. You barely have time to gasp before you find his lips on yours once more, slow and sweet and shockingly steady.
You kiss him back, letting him push you gently into the crumpled linens of his bed. His fingers are light as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, reaching behind your torso to loosen your bra and tug your shirt from you in a single, smooth motion.
You shiver beneath him and he pulls back to stare. You search his eyes, feeling suddenly uncertain.
“God, you’re gorgeous…”
Heat crests into your cheeks as you try to look away. But he tugs you back with his thumb and steals another kiss.
“It’s late…” he says, pulling away to press your foreheads.
You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I know…”
“Let’s sleep in tomorrow.”
You laugh, shifting as he curls his body around you, tugging you easily against his chest and pulling the covers over you both. A moment later, the lights click off and you’re both thrown into darkness. You let yourself relax into his arms, wondering just how you’re going to explain this to Robin tomorrow.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” Zoro’s voice murmurs into the nape of your neck.
You grin, nodding as you press further back into him and he grazes a soft kiss along your skin.
“That kinda thinking needs breakfast and coffee first,” you say, to which Zoro chuckles, nodding as he lets you hook your ankles between his, your bodies settling against each other, warm and perfect, the curves and bends meeting like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally, finally finding each other at last.
You don’t have long enough to ponder on the light, musk-salt-sweet of his skin or the way you can feel his heartbeat as it threads along your spine or the way that somehow, the shape of him doesn’t feel foreign against the shape of you, before you’re already falling asleep. And to him, he doesn’t have time to ponder the lovely silk of your hair, just as soft as he’d always imagined, or the way your waist feels perfect beneath his hands, or how he’s somehow he’s always known the rhythm of your breaths before he too is falling into the warm embrace of a dark, sweet, restful sleep as well.
nine.
Saturday morning finds you both tangled in each other, the winter sun bright and cold as it slates through the slits of Zoro’s bedroom window. He wakes up first, shifting to stretch until he feels the weight of you beside him. And then suddenly, he's somehow achingly awake and aware of his body against yours, of your paced breaths and his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. For one bewildering moment, he can’t quite remember what brought him here, and then the scenes from the night before — the bout, the lockers, the kiss — the way you’d tasted, how utterly irresistible you’d been, blushing in the dim light of his room, your skillful fingers digging into his tender, swollen flesh — his own rash promise of breakfast and coffee — it all comes rushing back. Zoro lets out a long breath and leans in to brush his lips along your forehead.
You let out a light groan as you shift in his arms, and when you turn, it’s to find him watching you.
“Oh… hey.”
Your voice is quiet, almost shy as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and he finds himself more endeared than he has words to say.
He clears his throat.
“Morning. Uh… sleep well?”
You laugh, the warmth of your expelled breath ghosting across his clavicle in a way that makes him shiver.
“Mhm… pretty well… and you?”
Zoro clears his throat, “Yeah. Guess it wasn’t… bad.”
He resists the urge to roll away, if only because your cheek is still pillowed on his arm, and he can’t bring himself to pull away from you just yet. So instead, he drops his nose into your hair and takes in the milky scent of your coconut lotion. Tiny, pin-pricks of desire shoot through him, teasing goosebumps into the skin of his back and arms, but he forces himself to lie still as you snuggle against his chest with a contented sigh.
“So… breakfast and coffee?”
Zoro grunts, “Hn. I did promise.”
You smile, letting yourself sink into the thick and syrup of his sleep-deepened voice, his moss-green hair even more tousled than it normally is as he adjusts his head on his pillow.
“Hey,” you say, breathless as you look up at him beneath the sweep of your lashes, your eyes so big and dark and wide Zoro wonders if they might swallow him whole.
“Hey,” he answers, just as breathless, uncertainty creeping up the center of his chest as he stares down at you, lying in the glistening, mercurial light, the bend of your shoulder kissed by the morning sun, the shape of you limned in silver and gold.
You lean up to kiss him before he has the chance to second-guess himself, and though he was the more bold, self-assured one last night, you press in against him this morning, the languid sweep of your tongue along his lips making him groan, helpless, against you. He tastes the satisfied grin at the corner of your mouth as he opens his own, his mind frizzing into gorgeous, white static as you spend what feels like hours exploring the sweet depths of each other's mouths — all tongue and teeth and kiss-swollen lips.
When finally you pull apart, he is more breathless than he’d planned for, his body too warm for his liking, an urgent, pulsing something burning at the base of his stomach as he fights the urge to shove you back and sink his teeth into your skin, to hear you hiss, to make you gasp, to leave the indent of his fingers along the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, to mark you as his in every way he knows how.
But instead, he places a lingering kiss on your cheek and sits up, slowly stretching his arms.
“Careful…” you warn, pushing yourself up as well, watching him, “how’s it feel?”
Zoro tests his right side, drawing his arm up and then to the side, and then pulling it across his torso.
“Whoa… so much better.”
You smile, satisfied.
Zoro chuckles, “Guess I really do owe you breakfast. C’mon.”
He slips out of bed, tugging open a drawer to toss you a thick sweater and a pair of sweatpants. For himself, he only tugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, even as you frown, squinting at him from where you’re nearly swimming in his clothes.
“You’ll freeze.”
Zoro smirks as he looks you over, reaching over to pull the hood over your mussed tangle of hair, “Nah, I’m fine.”
You pout, jerking open the drawer to pull out a sweater and tossing it at him.
“You have to keep your right side warm so your muscles don’t just seize up again.”
Zoro stares at the sweater in his hand, looking reluctant before you press your lips into an exaggerated pout.
“C’mon… I worked so hard on getting it better last night… please?”
Zoro groans, rolling his eyes as he tugs on the sweater.
“Yeah, yeah — fine. Let’s go.”
He doesn’t wait for you, nor does he extend his hand. But the pair of you walk elbow to elbow, hip against hip down the bright dorm room hallway, into the chilly Saturday morning air.
“Geez, if you’re gonna yell at me to keep warm —” Zoro reaches over to tug on the drawstrings of your sweater, frowning as he notices how much skin he can still see beneath the opening of the hoodie.
You blush, tugging at it as the pair of you make your way across the empty campus quad.
Halfway across the frost-kissed lawn, he wordlessly reaches out to catch your hand in his, tucking your entwined fingers into the depths of his pocket. You bite back a stupid, dopey grin as you duck your head, quickening your pace to keep up, your footsteps crunching in the dew-bitten grass, the freshly raked gravel.
ten.
There’s already a decent line at the Straw Hats Cafe, but when the pair of you walk in hand in hand, both Sanji and Nami pause for a second longer than usual. Sanji’s eyebrows jerk up his forehead while Nami’s lips curl into a much too satisfied grin as she turns back to the humming espresso machines.
You savor in the smell of freshly ground coffee, absently tracing your thumb over the back of Zoro’s hand.
When you both reach the front, Sanji looks between you expectantly.
“Well, well, well — I’d like to say I’m surprised but —” he shrugs, grinning cheekily, “Well then I’d be lying, wouldn’t I?”
Zoro clicks his tongue but you shoot him a sheepish smile, pursing your lips.
“So… the usual then?” Sanji asks, his fingers poised over the register.
“Yep,” Zoro says, curt as ever, though there’s a distinct blush on his cheeks that not even he can write off as anything else.
You nod as well, “Oh, but… I think I’ll try a non-decaf latte this time. Just one shot of espresso though, please and thank you.”
Sanji blinks at you for a second before letting out a startled laugh and nodding, punching in your order.
“Coming right up, sweet cheeks. Right then, that’d be 8.75 for the latte and 5.50 for the double espresso.”
Zoro reaches into his wallet and pulls out a 20, slipping it across the counter. Down the bar, Nami is humming, looking cheerier than you’ve ever seen her this early in the morning as she goes about making your drinks.
Sanji sighs as he shakes his head, handing Zoro his change.
Zoro narrows his eyes but Sanji cuts him off.
“Take it from me, fam. You don’t wanna know.”
You and Zoro share a puzzled look as you both shuffle down to the pick-up counter, where Nami is sliding your finished drinks toward you with a bright, knowing glint to her eyes. Zoro clears his throat and reaches over for a packet of sugar, nonchalantly tipping it into his drink before picking it up to take a sip.
You try not to gape as you grab your own drink, flashing Nami a quick smile before turning to follow Zoro.
He picks a table as far away from the counter as possible, tucked into a corner, nearly invisible to the rest of the shop. When you sit down, he frowns at your chair for a second before reaching out to tug you across the floor till your chair is next to his. He goes back to his drink without a single word.
It’s all you can do to blush and stare at your steaming cup.
“I thought we were getting coffee and breakfast,” you say after a brief moment of silence.
Zoro grunts, “We are. Coffee first.”
You nod, somewhat mollified as you take another sip of your drink. The warmth trickles down your chest to rest somewhere in the center of your stomach, spreading heat throughout your body in waves.
“We could just get a chocolate croissant,” you say, giving Zoro a sidelong look.
Zoro frowns, tapping his finger against the side of his cup, “Dessert isn’t breakfast.”
You scoff, “Says who?”
Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Says me. And I’m payin’ for it.”
You purse your lips, wondering if you should argue more before deciding against it. A few seconds later, Zoro sighs, casting his eyes about the cafe interior.
“We can have a croissant after real breakfast.”
You giggle into your drink, swallowing down the glee fluttering in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your still kiss-chapped lips.
“Kay, whatever you say.”
Zoro rolls his eyes and folds his arms, but his elbow presses against yours and he doesn’t make to move away.
Across the cafe, Nami leans to watch the pair of you, Sanji at her side, looking both stunned and somewhat pained.
“C’mon man, it’s not even been a week!”
Nami grins, rinsing out a few cups and placing them mouth down to dry before pivoting on her heels and holding out an expectant palm. Sanji sighs as Nami’s eyes glitter with mirth and a hard-won glee.
“Right. I think you owe me fifty bucks.”
Sanji narrows his eyes, glancing back at where you and Zoro are tucked into the corner of the cafe.
“Double or nothing on when they’ll have their first fight. I say… not till next week.”
Nami’s eyebrows twitch up. She looks back at where the pair of you are now bickering over where to have breakfast. A smirk teases at her lips.
She puts down her hand, “Alright then… but like I said — it’s your funeral, Sanji.”
Over in the corner, there’s the dull scrape of chair legs as you push yourself away from the table to fold your arms.
“— Belgian waffles are absolutely an acceptable meal for breakfast!”
Zoro rolls his eyes, though there’s still an amused spark behind his eyes.
“Breakfast without eggs ain’t real breakfast. And doesn’t count if it’s smothered in syrup either.”
You make an indignant noise, frowning even as Zoro tugs you back to press a napkin to your upper lip, where there’s a faint line of whipped cream residue.
Sanji backpedals immediately, “Uh — right so, I feel like we need to define what really constitutes a ‘fight’, yeah?”
Nami tuts, shaking her head, “Nope! A bet’s a bet. Now pay up.”
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jjunieworld · 22 days
Text
UNDER THE CHERRY BLOSSOM TREE ˒˒ 최범규
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it’s confession day and you want nothing more than to receive a crush from your longtime friend, beomgyu.
pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi beomgyu x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 yeonjun, soobin, and yeji from itzy
genre﹙📄﹚⸝⸝⸝ toothrotting fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining but you both are oblivious, highschool au ???
kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ literally watched beomgyu’s cover and music video and was struck by sudden inspiration and motivation and i just had to write something based off it! ❀ so here is a super cute little drabble in honor of beomgyu’s cover, i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡
∿ [ 1.7k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]
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today was a day you both loved and absolutely hated—confession day. the day where you confess your feelings to the one who you like most.
the hallways were giddy with excitement and you couldn’t help being lured to the feeling. everyone was alight with what the day could possibly behold. as you made your way to your locker to put your bag away, you heard various snippets of conversations:
“i’m scared to open my locker! what if there isn’t any note inside?” “—and he wrote for me to meet him on the football field after school!” “who do you think yeonjun will confess to? i heard from hana that he was eying her, but mina said the same thing!” “well i heard hana say that jake was going to confess to her today on the rooftop!” “—to meet near the school gates!”
a soft smile made its way onto your lips. confession day—at least the start of it—was always one that made you happy inside. you loved seeing other people finally confess their feelings to to each other. it was also fun for you and your friends to make bets on who would confess to who.
just as you reached for the lock of your locker, you friend yeji ran up to you with a thrilled expression, her black hair flying into her face as she came to a sudden stop. “it’s confession day!” she squealed repeatedly, brushing her hair out of her face and linking her arm with yours once you got your books out. “who do you think will confess to who later today?”
“apparently hana has many suitors,” you shrugged and the two of you giggled slightly as you walked the halls slowly to your homeroom. suddenly yeji turned to you, a playful grin lighting up her face with a scrunched nose. oh god, you thought, what is she about to say?
she tickled your side, making you squirm away with a laugh. “do you think beomgyu is going to confess to you today?” she asked. you swatted her hand away, heat creeping up your neck as you looked forward to try and hide how flustered the question made you. you shrugged again, hopeful smile curling your lips.
beomgyu sat at his desk surrounded by his two friends, yeonjun and soobin. he shifted a sealed envelope from hand to hand, “to y/n” written on it. the red striped tie and dark blue blazer of his uniform suddenly seemed so constricting. “—and tell me exactly what you wrote in the letter,” he heard the tail end of yeonjun’s sentence.
beomgyu had already told soobin just minutes prior and he sighed softly as he dragged his eyes up from the letter. nerves flowed through him as he recounted the letter again for yeonjun.
dear, y/n
would you meet me under the cherry blossom tree by the train tracks after school?
beomgyu
it was a very simple letter, really. beomgyu had wanted to give his confession in person to you rather than through a letter or any other means. yeonjun’s face contorted in thought. “maybe spice it up a little?” he suggested.
“i like it. it’s simple and right to the point. besides, he said he wants to confess in person,” soobin cut in before beomgyu could. yeonjun hummed before nodding slowly. “i guess it could work!”
just as yeonjun finished talking, the homeroom door opened. you and your friend—yeji, who he’s come to know of—stepped through; arms linked as you leaned into each other to whisper something he couldn’t hear. a low laugh emitted from you and beomgyu swore it was the prettiest, most melodic thing he has ever heard.
the sunlight from the open blinds of the classroom cascaded down onto your frame, illuminating you like you were on a stage. beomgyu just couldn’t believe how pretty you were. your eyes connected with his, that bright smile of yours still on your face, and you waved your hand slightly to wave at him. your bright smile turned sheepish as you quickly looked away and you and yeji made it to your seats.
from just one look, beomgyu could practically see your future together. he wanted to be yours and you to be his so desperately. he wanted to do simple day to day activities with you, like helping you with homework and putting your books into your locker. he wanted to take you to the movies and talk about what you decided to see and walk you home after, fingers just barely brushing past each other. you were just so cute.
“look at him, there’s literally hearts in his eyes,” beomgyu distantly heard yeonjun say. his eyes were still on you until fingers snapped in his face, startling him back to reality. soobin pulled back his arm with a laugh and beomgyu rolled his eyes. he glanced back to you briefly, small smile forming on his face before returning his attention back to his friends.
beomgyu looked down again at the letter in his hands. he had meant to put it in your locker this morning before you arrived, but chickened out at the last second. that’s why he was here, enlisting the help of his two idiot bestfriends to ensure everything goes off without a hitch.
soobin laid a hand on beomgyu’s shoulder and patted it comfortingly, “you got this, man! it’s so obvious that the two of you like each other!” yeonjun nodded in agreement. beomgyu sighed and tucked the letter under his books. he hesitantly let their words fill him with confidence and hope. i really hope she does, he thought.
you turned slightly and looked over your shoulder, just barely catching a glimpse of beomgyu. you turned back towards yeji with a lovesick smile. “it’ll happen, don’t worry! it’s so obvious that the two of you like each other!” yeji comforted you. you just sighed and directed the conversation to a different topic. i really hope he does, you thought.
when you were grabbing your bag from your locker, mid conversation with yeji, a small white envelope fluttered to the ground at your feet. yeji gasped as you bent to pick it up with wide eyes. yeji drew closer to you, hiding the letter from the view of the other students making their way towards the entrance of the school. “open it, open it!” she exclaimed.
with a deep breath you carefully opened the envelope that had “to y/n” written on it in familiar handwriting. carefully you opened up the delicate letter and read the contents, yeji beside you taking in every word as well. you froze in shock for a split second before a wide smile broke out onto your face and it took everything in you to keep from jumping up and down.
“he wants me to meet him under the cherry blossom tree by the train tracks…” you breathed lowly, shock still reeling you. you repeated yourself, each word getting louder as you turned and grasped yeji’s hands with excitement and almost crinkling the letter, “he wants me to meet him under the cherry blossom tree by the train tracks!”
you had gathered the attention of the students walking by and heat suddenly spread across your face and immediately calmed you down. unfortunately, just as you shrunk into your locker, your eyes briefly connected with beomgyu’s bestfriend and resident golden boy of your school—choi yeonjun.
he looked in your direction and you just barely managed to catch the smile he gave to beomgyu’s other bestfriend—choi soobin—and the words forming from his lips.
your grip on yeji’s hands tightened as you quickly pulled her towards the girls restroom. “oh my god!” she exclaimed and began jumping the two of you up and down. excited giggles left both of your lips and echoed off the walls of the restroom.
“oh my god,” yeji repeated, suddenly serious. “he means meet him now. you have to go, like, right now!” worry suddenly broke through all your emotions at the possibility of beomgyu thinking that you wouldn’t show. yeji started pushing you towards the door of the restroom.
“oh my god!” you worriedly repeated yeji’s words. in response, all she repeated was, “go, go, go!”
you booked it out of the restroom and out of the school, running all the way until you saw the familiar cherry blossom tree down the hill in front of where the school sat. distantly, you saw beomgyu’s figure waiting for you and you inhaled deeply as you made slow strides towards him. you held the letter close to your heart and tried to control your nerves the closer and closer you got to the tree.
at your incoming footsteps, beomgyu turned to you and you gasped softly and how beautiful he was. a flustered—and somewhat sheepish—smile spread across your face and you stepped just mere inches from where he stood. “i got your letter,” you said as you looked up into his eyes.
the falling cherry blossoms around beomgyu’s head and soft afternoon light framed him perfectly and it made you wonder just how lucky you were that you were the one he chose to confess to.
beomgyu opened his mouth, only to close it and have a matching sheepish smile overtake it. just as he went to open it again, a cherry blossom fell onto his head, caught in the dark strands of his hair. he looked up, just as you did as well, and you both chuckled. “can we start seeing each other?” beomgyu ask you quietly, plucking the flower from his hair and holding it out to you.
if it were even possible, your smile widened and you accepted the outstretched flower. from the corner of your eye saw yeji, yeonjun, and soobin huddle together behind a bush directly across from the two of you. yeji nudged them out of the way to get a good look but accidentally ruffled some of the leaves of the bush. you saw the three of them drop down quick as lightning behind the bush before you or beomgyu could see them.
you nodded and softly spoke, “i would really like that.” a toothy grin spread on beomgyu’s lips. finally, the one he adored the most was his.
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∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡
🏷️﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @rapmonie2047 @jeonghaniehaee @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie
© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.
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azullumi · 2 months
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“there’s so many fishes in the sea but i never learned how to swim” ; aventurine
summary — a guide to pining presented by yours truly, aventurine.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, secret pining but like aventurine can be too obvious, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons
tagging — @toorurs (sorry boo i forgot to tag 😭)
note — i know i could have done better with this one, my brain wasn’t just working and im also on a trip. this is day 6 and 7 of writing for him until i get him !!
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Aventurine yearns for connection yet he erects tall walls of self-preservation, fearing vulnerability, attachment, and betrayals (the shadow of his fear of losing someone dear to him all over again will haunt and follow his steps). He’s always distant, seemingly detached to the people around him like a leaf that never touches the ground as the wind carries it away; his only drive for relationships is due to mutual-benefit or a give-and-take situation. So what happens to him when he falls and yearns for someone?
Love is violence, he knows that but his eyes would stumble after your shadow and he wonders what it feels like to live in it. He’ll lie under your gaze and he’ll dream what it feels like to be seen, what it feels like to be loved by you. He will seek ways to be close to you but not close enough that you’ll know the rhythm of his heart spells out the letters of your name. In each moment of longing, it is all tinged with a taste of bitterness as this yearning, though desired, is a precarious precipice—everything will crumble and fall once he speaks about it.
So he settles with stolen looks with wishful thinking that you’ll cast a glance at his direction, he settles with the small things at first before he begins to become selfish—he’ll make up reasons just to see and talk to you, think of excuses just so he could linger a little longer in your presence. He’ll make up games and initiates bets where he knows he’ll always win but would let himself lose anyways; winning or losing didn’t matter to him in those moments with you.
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“Go ahead, guess.”
You fell into a deep thought, staring at the two hands balled into fist that are in front of you. Your eyebrows were scrunched, trying to listen to the voice of your instinct but everything was silent inside your head.
“Take your time. After all, whoever loses has to follow what the winner wants.” Aventurine spoke and you could discern the hint of amusement in his tone as he watched you fall into some sort of predicament—all you had to do was to choose which one of his hands was the coin in. It was just one of the simple games you’ll play with him every time you see each other. Come to think of it, his visits to your department have been quite frequent despite having no particular business, official or not.
“Shh. I’m thinking.” You answer, lifting your index finger to your mouth in a hush gesture. It took you a few moments of silence and thoughtful humming before you pointed at his left hand, “That one.”
But he opens his left hand to show nothing on his palm, his right hand revealing the coin at the same time, and you are hit with a wave of disappointment. A chuckle slips past his lips and you just sighed—there was nothing you could do but to admit defeat. “Well then, what do you want me to do?”
Aventurine, without a single second of hesitation, answered. “Let me take you out to dinner.”
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The thing is you could have laid yourself bare to him, you could tell him all of the sins that taint your skin, the words left unspoken in your mouth, the growing mold in your lungs. He’ll see the rot and will choose to stay, he’ll see the cobwebs and dusty bookshelves, and he’ll love you still, he’ll see the torn wallpapers and ruined floors and he’ll still adore you (he’ll find you where you are most ruined and he will love you there).
(His hand would gently tug and hold at the cuffs of your sleeves, letting the warmth and closeness of his touch linger in hopes that you’ll see him in the sun that holds you gently.)
Many people claim that they love you but do they adore you the same way as he does? Would they cross bridges for you when he’ll swim oceans just to see the way your eyes catch the light? Would they traverse the stars just to listen to the sound of your laughter? 
(He’ll see the dirt in your hands and will help you wash it off when others would simply walk away.)
He’ll think of you as he laid in his bed, satin sheets all wrinkled and messy as his pillows scattered around his form, and he wondered how nice it would be to have your things among his. to have the smell of your perfume mixed with his, to have you in his arms before he sleeps (he has dreams of his dreams and you’re always in it).
All this yearning, longing, and adoration will turn into a sword that will make him bleed the more he holds on to it and you’ll stay in his thoughts as the blood will run dry on his being. He simply hopes he crosses your mind once in a while so that he won’t feel pathetic for thinking of you all the time.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
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Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?
Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues. 
Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.  
Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy. 
side note: here is a small continuation after this story
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You needed a drink, something strong enough to forget about your growing workload that your paycheck no longer justified. With each new stack of paperwork that reached your desk, the resignation form became increasingly more appealing. You were drained by the time you clocked out at 6 pm, after having to attend 4 meetings throughout the day, all of which could have been a simple email. 
“No no, this company has good 401K matching, paid time off, and dental included. 401K and dental, 401K and dental.” You chanted to yourself, trying to steel your resolve against throwing your two weeks' notice in the face of your manager who has been pushing more and more of his work onto you. 
All while having the gall to be flirty. As if that ugly gold band wasn’t visible on his finger. Your cheeks hurt after having to hold your business professional smile for the past eight hours. The moment you stepped foot beyond those sliding glass doors, massaging your sore face with one hand. 
‘It should be happy hour now, better get a spot at the bar now,’ you thought as you took off your stiff blazer. 
You swore one day you’ll catch a cold from constantly subjecting your body to the dramatic shift of your tundra of an office to the sauna that was Sumeru’s climate. Ugh, stupid professional dress code, and stupid you for deciding to wear your new heels today. The back of your ankles felt raw despite the thin layer of your stockings reducing some of the chafing.
As the saying goes, thank god it was Friday, even though you couldn’t take a half day like so many of your co-workers, you were just glad to finally be out of sight from your manager with wandering eyes. 
Pushing in the wooden doors to the tavern, you were quickly engulfed in the busy hustle and bustling of servers delivering rounds of glasses to rowdy tables and the hearty drunk laughter of flushed faces. 
‘Damn, it’s this crowded already.’ You felt your shoulders drop, ‘should I just pick up some wine on the way home then?’ Another sad weekend spent in your stuffy apartment, great. 
Just as you were about to turn on your heels, you spotted a familiar flash of blond hair. Was that Kaveh? You squinted your eyes to focus on that spot of blond through the wave of patrons. 
“HA! I’m telling you there is no way that shrewd man got his position without some sort of shady dealing. I bet he’s got some dirt on some higher-ups.” 
Yep, that was definitely Kaveh, you immediately recognized that dramatic shrill in his voice. You heard it many times during your college days together, increasingly so whenever he had an architecture final due. He was at a large table, there seemed to be plenty of room for one more person. Swiftly, you made your way through the crowd to tap the blond man on the shoulder, disrupting him mid-rant. 
“Kaveh? Oh my god, it is you. It’s been so long. How’ve you been?” You feigned surprise. 
“Oh? Oh!” His eyes lit up with recognition. “My college savior! How’ve you been? Come, sit down and drink with us!” 
Score, you’ve successfully secured a seat at the tavern. Thus, you avoided wallowing in self-pity alone on your beaten couch. You meet eyes with two unfamiliar faces, the trio seemed to have been setting up a game of cards before you joined, or before Kaveh began to rant about whatever he rants about. 
After a quick round of introductions and placing your order for a glass of sweet wine, you were quickly acclimated to their conversation. Tighnari was a part of the research and development team, while Cyno was the head of company security ensuring no classified information gets leaked to competitors. Kaveh, you already knew was the star of the architecture design department. 
It felt nice being able to relieve stress about redundant company policies and gossip, or at the very least it was entertaining to hear Kaveh whine nonstop about them. 
“Ah, I still just don’t understand how that man got the position of head secretary. I swear he has it out for me, he refused to process my request for approval because ‘it was outside of his working hours’ and because of that my project got delayed a whole week! There is no way he climbed the ranks with that work ethic!” 
You did not even have to ask who the subject of Kaveh’s dismay was, it was quite obvious to the 3 of you at the table. 
“Just because I can manage a healthy work-life balance, does not mean my work ethic is mediocre. My work hours are clearly posted outside of my office, it seems that literacy has decreased.” A husky voice rang out from just behind your chair. 
You felt a slight shiver run up your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its journey. He was here, the main antagonist in Kaveh’s rants has finally shown his face. 
“Oh, ‘Haitham? It’s rare to see you come out of your shell of books.” You looked over your shoulder at the towering man as he loosened his tie. Scooting a bit closer to Cyno, making more room for him to sit at the last seat. 
“It is a surprise to see you here as well, did Kaveh drag you out to play a game of cards… or perhaps did he want you to foot his tab.” Alhaitham gave the blond man a slight side-eye before returning his attention back to you. 
“Hey! I can hear you!”
“It was intentional, couldn’t you tell?” 
“You-”
You let out a light giggle from behind your wine glass, noticing the sliver-haired man’s eyes turning back towards you. 
“Did you want to sample a bit of the wine? It’s sweet.” You offered your glass to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shiver when his long fingers brushed against yours as he accepted it. You tried to keep your face as polite as possible, not allowing your eyes to wander down along his neck as he took a sip. 
“Not bad,” he placed your glass back down in front of you. “Boss, this is good wine. I would have the same, please.” He turned his large body slightly as he called out to the tavern owner. 
Allowing you to see just how well that button-down shirt fitted his form, the top button seemed to be holding on with all its strength. 
“I thought we were all grown enough to not be entertained by mindless gossip,” Alhaitham remarked towards the table. 
“Not at all, we were just curious about the raising star of the company,” Tighnari commented. 
“There’s nothing special to talk about, I just arrive and do the task I have to before I clock out.” 
“It’s a bit odd for a man that lacks ambition to land such a high role within a year.” Cyno followed up, his eyes holding a hint of suspicion. 
“ It’s really nothing complicated. I’ve even rejected some promotions, the work of a secretary is simple, that’s why I wish to keep things this way.” 
“Ah, he’s humble-bragging now.” You hear the tan man beside you mutter as he crossed his arms. 
You also couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy as well. While you were proud of your childhood friend having success in his carrier, he advanced much faster than you even though you got a two-year head start. 
“Ugh, how did you stand this egomaniac for so long.” Kaveh harshly set his glass down, directing the question at you. 
Seeing this as an opportunity to tone your childhood friend down a few, you couldn’t help the slight grin that spread across your face. 
“Well, he’s always been this way,” you swirled your glass, “I guess I just got used to it.” 
“Makes sense, attitudes like his tend to develop at tender ages.” Tighnari vouched. 
“He was so cute when he was younger. This man used to pull on my sleeve and beg me to read Aristotle to him.” You stole a quick glance over your wine glass. 
“Oh? You two go that far back?” Cyno inquired. 
You hummed in confirmation as you took another sip, “I guess it’s partially my fault for not correcting him back then. But he used to have the chubbiest cheeks, I couldn’t help but be swayed. Who would’ve known that once that cuteness faded, all that’s left is a mulish man.” 
You heard Alhaitham tsk in annoyance at your jabs, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. 
“Clinging onto the past will serve no benefit towards the future. Frankly, it’s a foolish thought.” 
You hid the sting in your heart with a teasing smile, hoping that it reached your eyes as well. He was right, the past was gone and over with, with little to no bearings on the future. The same stood with your relationship, childhood friends, and nothing more. 
Alhaitham had the looks, the stellar career, and was already a homeowner while being four years your junior. Even with your head start on life, it felt as if you were constantly behind him, trying to catch up. You knew one day he’ll leave you in the dust, so it is for the best that you let go of this one-sided crush. 
“Oh? Then I guess I’m released from that childhood pact then. How freeing.” You let out a slight laugh before taking a larger sip of your wine. You should probably order another glass, maybe two actually. 
The stoic man raised an eyebrow at your statement, “and what do you mean by that.”
“Aw, it looks like little ‘Haitham forgot,” you pouted. However, you could not let this opportunity to tease him slip away. 
Setting down your glass, you turned to face everyone gesturing a hand toward Alhaitham. “You see, when we were still children. He walked up to me with a flower and asked me to marry him when we grew up.” 
Instantly piquing the attention of everyone at the table. 
“Pfft, there’s no way that happened.” Kaveh let out a hearty laugh, waving his hand as if dismissing that notion. 
“Best believe it, he ignored me for a week when I told him no. Only ‘forgiving’ me after I gave him extra sweets and promised to think about it again in the future.” You supported your face with one hand. 
“So I guess you are to blame for his apatheticness? Traumatizing him so young? I’m starting to sympathize with you, Alhaitham” Tighnari scoffed. 
“Well, I apologize for my shallow taste when I was a child. I used to dream of being carried off into the sunset in a white dress by my groom.” You dramatically sighed. 
You mockingly patted Alhaitham’s arm, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath the fabric tense up then relax at your sudden skinship. 
“Before he became an absolute tree, this guy used to be half my size and weight. Which is why I rejected him back then, I didn’t want to crush my groom to death at our wedding.” 
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Just what were your intentions when you brought up that childhood memory? Alhaitham was racking his mind, trying to pinpoint a motive, too distracted to be bothered by the snickering that permeated throughout the table. 
Your hand, which still lingered on his arm, brought pulses of heat along his skin, the hair at the nape of his neck pricking up from the sensation. 
“On the topic of marriage, have you gotten any luck so far? Found anyone special yet?” Kaveh tucked his hands under his chin, as he rested his elbows on the crowded table. 
“Ugh, Kaveh, stop you sound like my fucking mother.” You brought your hand up to your temple. Alhaitham’s skin immediately craved your touch again. 
“I’m taking that as a ‘no’ then.”
“Obviously, gosh, every time I go to visit my parents it turns into an interrogation of why I didn’t come back with a ring on my finger.” You took another swig of your wine. 
“Is that so?” Kaveh prodded, wanting the conversation to continue. 
“Honestly, at this rate, I won’t be marrying for love. I’ll be marrying to shut my parents up.” 
“Oh? And what would a husband candidate need? To be able to carry you off to the honeymoon?” 
“Har har har, Kaveh, very clever.” 
“Okay, now seriously.” 
“Well, obviously he needs to get along with my parents.” 
Just earlier this evening Alhaitham had responded to a message from your mother, telling him how thrilled they were to receive his housewarming gift basket. Your mother wishing that more young people were as considerate as he was towards his elders. 
“And I would prefer someone attentive.” 
Alhaitham did not even have to think when ordering coffee for you. A mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup. When it gets closer to the holidays, you liked to add one pump of peppermint syrup.
He also takes note of how your words tend to get more graphic once there's alcohol in your veins. 
“What about income, you want a man with 6 figures? 7?” 
“Ha, if my husband made 7 figures I’d run him a warm bath with rose petals, the house will be spotless, and have dinner set on the table at 7 o’clock sharp. A girl can dream, it would also mean I won’t have to see that ugly bastard’s face again.”
Roses were nice. However, lavender was much better for baths to relax the muscles. After 3 years Alhaitham was confident that he could renegotiate his salary. He knew that your organization skills violently oscillates between an absolute disaster to professional house cleaning service depending on how stressed you were. Your cooking though was always guaranteed to be delectable, 7 pm just so happened to be his preferred time for dinner. 
Pause, wait a moment-
“Huh? Is your manager still bothering you? Isn’t he already married? What a sleazebag.” 
“Tell me about it,” you were rubbing your temples more aggressively. “I’ve thought about staking my pen through his hand if he tried to place it on my shoulder again.” 
“Would you like me to file a report to HR?” Cyno looked over at you with concern and sincerity. 
“Thank you, but I’ve already tried. They said until there was hard evidence of such behavior they can’t move on with an investigation.”
“Ugh, it’s always HR protecting the top dogs once again. Seriously, I’m not even from the same department but even I can feel that slimy gaze of his whenever he looks at you. Makes me want to burn my skin off in the shower, how you withstand that is beyond me.” Kaveh, rested one over his chair, dramatically making a face to show his disgust. 
Your manager, yes, it’s been noted on several performance reports that his productivity has been on the decline. Perhaps, an additional report from Alhaitham about the suspicious disappearance of funds under your manager’s supervision would warrant a full-scale investigation. 
That fool had his wife listed as his emergency contact, the ashen-haired man wondered if he would detail her husband’s harassment of young women in his department to her. 
“Let’s move on to a different subject, shall we? I’d be damned if my Friday night is ruined by thoughts of that man.” You rubbed your thumb along the stem of your glass, a nervous habit of yours he noted. 
And with that, the drinking continued to pour, as Cyno and Kaveh began a round of cards. If you weren’t so distracted by Kaveh’s theatrical whines of how Cyno should take an easy on him, you would’ve seen the look that promised no good on Alhaitham’s face. Its true intentions are well hidden behind a stoic face. 
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“You would think he would have learned his limit by now.” Alhaitham couldn’t help but scoff at his housemate. 
The blond was absolutely hammered, slurring his words as if they were some encrypted message. Upon seeing the state that Kaveh was in, everyone unanimously agreed to call it a night. Cyno and Tighnari supported him as Alhaitham went to the edge of a sidewalk to hail a cab. 
“Are you not going to ride in the same taxi as Kaveh? You’re both going to the same destination no?” You inquired, looking up at him after he gave the directions to his house and cash for the trip. 
“And what, get puked on during the ride? Kaveh is a big boy now, I’m sure he’ll manage. Besides…” His teal eyes quickly trailed up your legs.
Your stockings accentuating the shape of your legs as they beckoned his attention towards that pencil skirt with a cheeky leg slit. Not revealing enough to be chastised as unprofessional, but oh so tempting. 
“It’s more important that I see you get home safely. Now, come.” He turned his back towards you, heading in the direction of your apartment. Not wanting to be caught staring at you. 
Throughout the walk the two of you were silent, but it was a calm silence that can only develop from a place of comfort and familiarity. The clicking of your heels and the taps of his dress shoes filled the air between you and him like a metronome. Alhaitham made sure to remind himself to match his pace with yours, lest his longer legs pull him far ahead of you. 
--
Finally arriving at the entrance of your apartment complex, you swiped your keycard to unlock the heavy security door. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system but it took all of your body weight to pry the metal door ajar. You felt a small hand on your back, stopping your pitiful attempt. 
“You’re going to strain your back, here, allow me.” Alhaitham’s voice was so close to your ear that you sore the vibrations tickled it. 
Stepping aside, you allowed Alhaitham to grasp onto the side of the door as he swung the door open as if it weighed nothing. He took hold of the handle, meeting your eyes as he gestured you to enter. You felt a bit stupid for struggling so much with the door in front of him, so you quickly shuffled inside as he followed right behind you. Strolling through the lobby you finally arrived at the shiny doors of the elevator. 
“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You looked up at Alhaitham as you pressed the call button. 
You heard the ding of the elevator arriving… only for the doors to not open.
 You pressed the button again, it dinged again, and again… then the light of the elevator flickered out. Great, just your luck, the elevator decided to break down now of all times. Further embarrassing you in front of Alhaitham. Even though his face remains stoic as ever, he probably thinks your place is shabby. 
“Ha ha, what a way to end a night. I guess I’ll be taking the stairs… You should call a cab to get back now.” You cringed a bit on the inside, why did you sound so awkward? 
The stairwell door creaked open with all the grace of nails dragging down a chalkboard, the noise almost causing a headache to form as you begin your ascension up the gray stairs. 
Only for your 6 flight journey to be halted at the second step as you stumbled. Once again, those new heels you were so excited to wear decided to rear their nasty face. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself on the solid hand railing. Sighing to yourself, you prepared to clutch onto it like a lifeline for the rest of your trek. 
Suddenly your body felt weightless as two solid arms hoisted you up, and you felt your figure way too close to a warm, built frame. 
“W-what are you doing??” Your hands were flailing as you did not know where to place them. 
“Quiet, it’s past midnight and your voice is bouncing off the walls. Do you want a noise complaint?”
“That wasn’t my question! Haitham put me down I can walk!!”
“Oh really? Did you seriously not notice how many times you’ve been tripping and stumbling on your way back? It’s safer for me to just carry you, unless you prefer tumbling down the stairs.” 
“N-no! I-” 
Alhaitham seems to be ignoring your plight as your slaps on his shoulder and arms elicited no reaction. His firm grip on your body did not let up as he effortlessly ascended the stairs, even shifting your weight a bit when he went to open the door to your floor. 
You were stone-cold sober at this point but your face was hot and flushed when Alhaitham finally placed you back down on your own feet at your apartment door. 
You couldn’t muster up the courage to thank him let alone even look at him, in case he sees the obvious red tint on your cheeks. Keys fumbling in your hands as you tried to line it with the keyhole, a small click and turn of the brass knob has your apartment ajar. 
What do you do now? Is this the final goodbye for tonight? Should you take a cold shower to purge these overwhelming emotions? 
“Um… would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” You spoke those words before you could think it through. Great, you just prolonged your suffering, great job. 
“Sure.” And much to your dismay Alhaitham agreed. 
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His teal eyes lazily observed the plush throw pillows on your sofa along with the soft blanket hastily thrown over the back of it. Alhaitham could hear you bustling in the kitchen as you prepared a glass of ice water for him. 
In stark contrast to his own walls, yours was crowded with many photos like a timeline of your life. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he observed a photo strip taped onto the side of your college graduation portrait.
It was a cheap strip of laminated plastic from some mall photo booth, but your smile was radiant as you had one hand squeezing his face trying to get the stone-faced boy to crack a smile. 
“Here, it’s on the house.” You clinked the frosty glass onto the coaster in front of him. 
He felt the sofa dip a bit more as you plopped your body on the other side, letting out a content sigh, probably finally being able to feel your feet again. He knew those heels caused you great discomfort, but he almost wished for another glimpse. 
“Thank you.” 
Once more a comfortable silence encased the air between the two of you. Somewhere along the line, your hand found its way to his gray locks, gently running your fingers along his scalp. 
“What shampoo do you use, ‘Haitham? Your hair is always so soft and voluminous. I’m kinda jealous.” He heard the amused quip in your voice. 
He both yearned and despised whenever you pet his head. As your fingers continued to rake through his ash hair he couldn’t help the rush of blood that flowed south. Yet, a pang of annoyance was felt in his chest. ‘You still thought of him as a kid’ was the message he decrypted from your actions. 
“Whichever brand is closest to me at the store. Or whichever bottles Kaveh left in the shower.” Alhaitham leaned a bit more into your touch.
“Tsk, of course.” He could hear the smile in your voice. 
There was no end benefit to be gained from his feelings towards you. In fact, his life would’ve been so much easier if only his brain didn’t release dopamine the moment he hears the slightest mention of you. 
As a person who prides himself on his objectivity and factuality, he could not explain why you were an outlier that skews his rationality. 
The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden pierce of your ringtone, the name that flashed across the screen caused Alhaitham’s eyes to narrow. 
Manager Kimiya
The manager who has been the source of your frustrations, evident by your conversation back at the bar. Why was he calling you this late? Alhaitham observed the grimace on your face as you quickly retracted your hand from his hair, picking up the phone as you excused yourself back to the kitchen. 
Why were you answering his call? 
You were speaking in a rather hushed voice, even with Alhaitham straining his ears to try and hear just what was so important to warrant a phone call so late at night. 
“Yes, of course…. No… I see… okay… yes… I understand… yes, goodnight to you as well.” 
Before Alhaitham could stop himself, he found his form behind yours at the kitchen counter as you finally ended your call. Frown present at the corners of your lips. 
“Why did he contact you this late?” 
Your body flinched in surprise. Ah, so you did not even notice his presence behind you. As his teal eyes stared down at your smaller frame, he could feel the clawing of a green-eyed monster tugging against the restraints Alhaitham so carefully bounded it in. 
“No reason, just work stuff… mostly.” 
Mostly? Alhaitham pushed down at the monster, trying to bottle the disgusting foreboding envy. 
“Why did you answer?” 
“I just told you, Haitham. It’s for work.” 
Alhaitham’s teeth ground against each other as he clenched his jaw. The monster was thrashing around violently. 
“You didn’t have to answer.” 
Your eyes closed in annoyance as you opened your mouth, a snarky reply ready to be thrown his way. Only for it to be stuck on the tip of your tongue as Alhaitham’s arms grasped the counter at either side of you. Pinning you between the cold granite top and his towering frame. 
“Are you interested in him?” There was a dangerous edge to his low voice. 
“Did you have too much to drink?” You whipped around in disbelief, annoyance dripping from your tone. 
Your face was very close to his, nose almost touching, breaths brushing against each other’s lips. 
“Answer the question.” His voice deepened further, a dark glaze over his eyes. 
“I don’t.” You narrowed your eyes at him, inching your face closer as if to prove a point. 
Alhaitham’s restraint of the beast began to slip. He needed a moment to grasp back onto it, to regain control. No, he could not wait any more, not one second longer.
 It was as if all the past decade's worth of pinning that kept him up at night came rushing out. Bursting through the walls that Alhaitham spent years building to contain them. 
It all rushed out in a messy, heated, and disgusting wave that washed over him and drowned his rationality as he slammed his lips into yours. Capturing the soft flesh into an all-consuming kiss. It was ugly, yet it felt so beautiful. So all consumingly beautiful. 
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Your brain was trying its best to regain itself as you recovered from the whiplash, you were kissing Alhaitham. His larger frame pushes your body up against the kitchen counter, cold stone pressing up against your burning skin. His tongue brushed against your lips hungrily, asking out of courtesy for permission. Your lips parted, allowing him access as your fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. 
It was almost animalistic the way he devoured the air from your lungs, your head began to float as pleasure trailed up your spine. You harshly tugged at his ashen hair to break the near-airtight lock your lips were tangled in. 
Barely getting two much-needed breaths in as your eyes connected with lustful teal before lips clashed once more. You tasted the sweet wine that still lingered on his tongue, the sweet taste of crossing a dangerous line. 
Alhaitham released your lips then dived back into trail kisses from your glistening lips to down your face and neck. A pleased whimper escaped as you titled your head to the side, allowing him more access to your sensitive spots. 
You now had two arms thrown around his neck, back arching as his large hands began to rub your thigh over the thin fabric of your stockings. The heat from his palms and the friction creeping up to your core. You felt the suction of his mouth against your neck causing you to press your chest more into his as you whined. 
Two hands firmly gripped onto each of your legs then harshly parted them, allowing for Alhaitham’s solid torso to press up against your pulsing core. You couldn’t help the slight roll of your hips against his abs, your poor cunt begging for a crumb of attention.
The air was too hot, tension too thick, Your skirt now all bunched up as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. You replicated his actions as you clumsily groped at his chest to locate the buttons of the dress shirt, your senses graced by the plushness of his pectorals. 
It was animalistic the way Alhaitham was claiming your skin with his kisses, every now and then marking the tender flesh of your breast and neck. ‘Fuck, how can simple kisses feel so good’ was the thought running through your hazy mind, pressing his head more against you. A hardness making itself known against your neglected wetness. Excitement spiking up inside you. 
“Wrap your legs around me.” He commanded. 
You obediently did so, locking your ankles together behind his back, intentionally rubbing your cunt against his trapped erection. Alhaitham straightened his posture as he scooted your bottom off the counter, large hands digging into the flesh of your ass then firmly squashing your core against hardness. 
The sudden movement causes you to let out a gasp. He shot you a look, warning that he did not have the patience to be teased. 
Effortlessly he carried you into the bedroom, kisses still desperately being exchanged the entire time. Tossing you onto your messy sheets, he took a moment to admire how absolutely wrecked you looked. Cheeks flushed red, lips glossy from mixed saliva, eyes teary yet burning with desire. If you looked like this from simple kisses, he couldn’t wait for what you’d look like during the main event.
With you now on your back, more vulnerable, it gave him the opportunity to finally strip the blouse off your body, exposing more of your skin. Feeling a tug at his shirt. 
“You too…” 
When you asked so shyly with those pouty lips, how could Alhaitham refuse? A silent game began, as for every piece of clothing one shed, the other would follow. Your bra, his belt, your skirt, and his slacks were now littered across your floor. Hands greedily groping at each other's flesh, a large hand cupping your breast as your hand dipped to rub his bulge through his boxers. 
“Excited?” Your confidence was boosted when you felt a small wet patch on the fabric. 
“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed. 
Hand releasing your breast to grope the contour of your pussy through your ruined panties. Harshly pressing against your eager clit, a moan tumbled out of your mouth. Alhaitham dropped his head right next to yours, baritone voice against your ear,
“See, you even soaked through your stockings. Just how wet are you?” 
Long fingers began to trace along the slit of your cunt, lazily rubbing a circle on your clit before tracing back down. Your legs wanted to clamp down on his cruel hand but with his body pinning you down it was impossible. The message was clear, you were at his mercy. 
“What do you want?” 
A simple question he asked you, but your pride would not let you answer. That bastard knows what you want, your cunt was practically sobbing for something to be buried deep in it. But he still continued his slow, torturous movement, eyes locked on your expression. You faced away from him, unable to handle the intense glaze on your flushed face. 
“Eyes on me.” His other hand squished your cheeks as he turned your face back. 
Teal and orange eyes piercing into yours, you wanted to protest, he was being so mean. His perfect face only had a slight flush, while you were certain yours was a mess. Alhaitham must have sensed this as he nudged his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest against your pink tongue. 
“Come now, use your words. What do you want?” 
Pride be damned, the burning sensation between your legs overtook your reasoning as his other hand was now harshly circling your sensitive bud. 
“Y-you.” You moaned around his thumb. 
A smug look was now plastered on his handsome face, you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap it or pull him into another kiss. 
“Good girl.” Looping his fingers into the waistband of your stockings, harshly tugging them down the length of your legs. 
He definitely ripped them, but your brain was too busy processing the words he just called. 
Shifting your body more onto the bed, he pried your legs open, giving him a direct view of your drenched panties. Snapping back into reality and suddenly now worried about your modesty you reached a hand down as if to shield your desire from his observant eyes. A quick slap to your hand echoed through the room. 
“It’s a bit late to be embarrassed now.” The same hand pushed the ruined fabric to the side before a long, thick finger was thrusted inside. 
Your head jerked back at the sudden intrusion, barely being able to bite back a moan. Your aching cunt now had a taste of what it craved so desperately, but now it only craved more. Something thicker, longer, heavier. It wanted more even as Alhaitham slipped another finger in with minimal resistance. Scissoring the digits inside of you, exploring deep inside as slick drooled out. 
You tried to suppress your moans by biting down on the thumb that still lingered in your mouth. He sucked a breath through his teeth at your actions. 
“Be nice.” He ordered, tearing his thumb out of your mouth at the same time as his fingers from your cunt. 
His two fingers coated in your juices were then shoved into your gaping mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. Wordlessly you maneuvered your tongue against his fingers, cleaning the slick from the thick digits. His cock twitched when he felt you welcome his fingers deeper into the gummy walls of your mouth.
Alhaitham wanted to play with you more, to tease your clit and pussy until it was swollen and soaking the sheets below. However, right now, he did not have the patience as the length in his boxers raged angrily. Perhaps, if his plan goes well he can save that desire for another time. 
He chuckled to himself, this is what you do to him, you turn him into a man so consumed by lust he would not even stretch you out with good foreplay. Your cunt felt wet enough, he could see how drops of slickness were trailing onto the sheets, you were ready for him. Finally releasing his member out of its confinement, he let out a small hiss that the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing along your slick folds. 
“Wait,” you got up on your elbow as another hand pressed against his toro, halting his movement. 
You swiftly reached over to your nightstand, digging through to find the box of condoms. You took a foil package out, turning back to Alhaitham you handed it to him. You did your best not to look at his member, but it was hard to when it was just that intimidating. On lonely nights, there were times you imagined what that tall, buff body hid beneath the layers. 
‘Would the condom even go over it?’ you wondered as Alhaitham stiffly ripped open the foil. Fortunately, the condom was able to encase his length, you patted yourself on the back for getting the variety pack. 
“Heh,” Alhaitham’s hands grasped the sides of your hips. “You were prepared.” 
It could’ve been your imagination, but his calm tone felt forced. Almost as if he was angry, but Alhaitham never got angry at you. 
“What’s the ma- AH!”
The concern died in your throat when the entirety of his length was thrusted into you. Your cunt clenching around him, not wanting to let go of the deep satisfaction of finally being full. Alhaitham let a quiet moan through his clenched teeth, pulling out halfway then snapping his hips back into yours.
Your hands desperately latched onto your sheets, twisting and pulling the fabric to try and ground yourself. The stretch had you stumbling over your words, never had you felt this full.  He felt so heavy inside of you, deliciously dragging against your quivering walls.  
Alhaitham followed the intrusion with a few slow thrusts, the squelch of your cunt welcoming his length sounded through the heavy air. The grip on your hips turned unyielding as his pace shifted, his hips settling on a punishing pace against your poor masochistic cunt. Moans leaving your lips without regard for your neighbors. 
“Were you expecting this tonight?” He ended his sentence with an especially deep thrust. 
You barely heard him over the wet slapping of skin, mind focused on how good it felt when his tip rammed into that one spot. Alhaitham noticed how your cunt contracted when he hit a particular place, quickly angling his hips to strike your weakness again, then again, and again. Each time he did you would let out a cry, tongue lulling out of your mouth. At this point, his fingers are for sure leaving purple marks. 
“Is that why you were at the bar?” He continued. 
The green-eyed monster clawed its way up inside him, if he had not gone to the bar earlier by chance, would you have shown this sinful face to someone else?
A voice at the back of his mind called for him to take you lovingly, to slow his pace, to caress your face with his hands and kisses. But the voice of the beast whispered in his ear to ruin you, use you to further his own pleasure, to pound the shape of his length into you. Yes, perhaps if he did that then no other man could ever satisfy you. 
“So, who did you plan to take home?” 
He thrusted his tip deeper, you swore it was hitting your cervix now. Breast bouncing along with his violent pace. A thumb dug into your swollen clit suddenly causing you to throw your head back as your mind came dangerously close to the edge of sanity. A delicious tension begins to form in your core.
“Answer. The. Question.” Each word was followed by a harsh thrust, as your bud was pinched between his two fingers. 
“Ah- ah!” Was the only reply you could muster. 
Alhaitham stilled his motion deep inside of you, heavy, thick member resting right up against your cervix. Fingers now cruelly rolling your abused clit in its grasp, making your toes curl and back arch. 
He could feel your walls convulsing around him, begging for more of his punishing thrusts, not wanting the tension to dissipate. But he didn’t want to give that to you, not until you give him what he wanted. 
“Who. Who are you thinking of? Are you imagining being pinned down like this by them?” 
Your lust-hazed eyes looked into his with confusion, brain barely able to string together a coherent thought to process his question. As if he asked you the most elaborate philosophical question. 
Even with your mind nearly liquefied by the heat of pleasure and vision blurred from tears, the self-loathing in his eyes was obvious. Releasing the sheets from your iron grip, you cupped his face as you pulled him into a soft kiss. The first of the night. 
“Y-you ah!” You moaned against his lips. 
His hand stilled for a moment, then quickly regained its pace rolling the bundle of nerves. His lips chased after yours, shallowing your moans as he pinned your body more into the mattress. 
“Say it, confirm it.” A trail connecting your lips as he pulled away. 
“Alh-ah! Alhaitham!” 
A switch was flipped as his hips sprang back into motion, the push and pull rocking the bed as your hands found refuge on his broad shoulders. The tension only grew in your core with every blow against your weak spot in tandem with the circles he was grinding into your bud. 
“Alhaitham! A-ah Alhai-yes, right there!” Shamelessly moaning out his name like you did on those desperate nights with your own fingers. 
Your toes were curling painfully from the pleasure currently engulfing your entire body, your cunt full and hair a mess. Arching your body more into his solid figure as his unforgiving pace continued to abuse your grateful walls.
The wet slooshing of your slick as your hole welcomed his member over and over again no longer embarrassed. You were growing close, the ball of tension in your core was so close to snapping, you wanted sweet release so badly. 
“P-please! Ah! Please!” You begged for him to let you fall into cloud nine. 
Quickly understanding your plead, Alhaitham continued his the motion of his hips, making sure to strike that spot with more force as his thumb rubbed your clit faster. He dipped his head down to kiss along the edge of your tear stained face. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your neck was the catalysis that finally pushed you off the edge. 
Your body pressed itself taught against his, walls clamping down like a vise around his member as the orgasm ripped through your body. Strangled moans against his ears as your vision turned white. 
He removed his thumb from your clit, now even redder and swollen, as he bit more into your neck, the sensation of your walls trying to milk him dry almost brought him over as well. However, he couldn’t let it end so fast, not when he had fantasized about this moment for years. 
He forced himself to drag himself out against the tight grip of your walls, then used his body weight to thrust back into you to continue with his rhythm. He felt his own release approaching as he stared at how your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. 
‘Would you notice if I were to rip the condom off?’ He wondered as you were still on cloud nine, but your body still responding to his moves. 
‘Would you even care? Would you want it too?’ The thought of painting your walls in white and watching as your cunt drank up his thick cum filled him with a dark desire. 
He wanted to fill you with his essence, to claim you as fully his from the inside out, to steep into every fiber of your being. His hands found purchase on your hips again as he pinned your frame below him, thrusting deeper than he had ever before into you as he spilled himself into the latex.
His body shook against yours as he panted from the exertion. 
The creaking of the bed stopped as Alhaitham pulled back to press sweet kisses to your temple, coaxing your consciousness back to reality. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears that still leaked from your eyes, as your pupils came back into view. Returning from their trip at the back of your head. There was a moment of stillness, as pants echoed through the air, breaths overlapping and caressing another. 
You felt him shift, pulling his length fully out from your gummy walls. Your cunt clentched at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he grabbed a few tissues from your night stand, then proceeded to roll the filled condom off, disposing it into the paper. 
You shut your eyes, chest still heaving at the exertion you had just put your body through. 
The sound of condoms shaking against their cardboard box made your eyes snap back open. As you watched the ashen haired man shamelessly pull another foil package out of the container. 
Oh… The night was still young. 
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--
The bright and pitched chirping of the birds outside stirred you from your slumber. Oh god, your hips were so sore, you questioned whether or not you would make it out of bed. 
Two arms firmly encompassed your waist, pressing your back against the warm source of the pain in your hip. 
As much as you hated to admit it, Alhaitham looked angelic when he was asleep. Usual stone face now relaxed and soft, the sunlight drawing blurred shapes along his skin and hair through your curtains. 
You wanted to brush the hair out of his peaceful face, fingers reaching out then freezing as the reality of last night hit you. 
You two had crossed the bold line that was drawn in the sand, now standing the cold ocean of the unknown. The questions of what your relationship had turned into violently crashed into you like unforgiving waves as you feel yourself beginning to drown in self-doubt. 
Was this a one-time thing? A closeness you will never experience with him ever again? Was this the final chapter of the story of you and Alhaitham? Did you ruin years of trust and friendship?
 The questions began to become overwhelming, you needed to get up, to just get somewhere to clear your mind. 
Slowly your tried to shimmy yourself out of his firm hold, carefully trying not to rouse him from his slumber. Only for your plan to come crashing down as his arms tightened around you, halting your motion. 
“Stay.” An uncharacteristic softness present in his tone. 
You stilled your body, heart pounding so hard against your chest you were certain Alhaitham could feel it too. Just like how you could feel the rhythmic beating of his against your back. 
His deep breaths brushed against your neck as he buried his face into the crook. Tension now hung in the air, but who was going to be the first to break it? Mustering up all the courage you could gather, 
“Alhaith-”
“I found you a nuisance when I was first introduced to you.” He began. 
You felt your heart sink at his confession, but he continued. 
“The way you dragged me out to play, fed me snacks, and especially when you pet my head. I found it all annoying… It was annoying because it would cause me heart palpitations, my breath would hitch, and my face would flush. I thought I had caught a sickness from you, a sickness that made me addicted to your presence.” 
Your heart was now jumping as if it wanted to burst from your chest, he buried his face deeper into your neck. 
“Then one day I read a book that detailed my exact symptoms. Do you know what the diagnosis was? Love - an intense, deep affection for another person. That day when I proposed with that small weed, I discovered that I was in love with you.” 
You froze, almost not believing your own ears. 
“Well of course back then I did not meet your qualifications. I hoped that the sickness would disappear. No actually, I used to pray to gods I don’t believe in that they would take you out of my head, where you always seemed to haunt . They must have cursed me because as time moved on, my illness just got worse. It began to border on mania, madness. So, please listen.” 
He turned your body in his arms so that you were staring right into his eyes, a hopeful and sincere glimmer present in the saturated teal.  
“I love you, I adore you, I wish to wake up every morning to you in my arms just like this. I want to walk through life hand in hand with you. Your parents hold me in high regard. I will get a mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and extra chocolate syrup every morning for you, I can even learn to make it. If you are worried about finances, if this company doesn’t agree to my raise by the end of two years I will search for another position that will.” 
His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 
“And I am confident in my ability to carry you no matter what wedding dress you dawn. So do I meet your qualifications now?” 
His teal eyes looked into yours, yearning for your answer. Your eyes were wide and lips frozen. You were waiting to wake up in your messy sheets alone, fully clothed, and for the other side of the bed to be cold. This had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real. 
However, the hot tears that clouded your vision and dripped down your cheeks felt too real to be an illusion. The look of adoration in his eyes was too genuine to be conjured up by your pitiful imagination. 
“Could we… Could we take this slowly?” You whispered, squeezing his hands. 
“Of course. I’ve waited for over sixteen years, I can wait a little longer.” 
You buried your flushed face into his chest, he let your wet tears soak into his skin as he kissed the crown of your head. Embracing each other as if the other could disappear.
“I love you too.” 
--
Fin~
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.
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hana-no-seiiki · 7 months
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WHAT’S UP DANGER?
— [ CH 01 ] WITH GREAT ABILITY COMES GREAT ACCOUNTABILITY
pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader
tw/cw: no yandere themes for this chapter, characters get aged up later on but are teens to young adults now, reader is gender neutral but characters refer to them with masculine terms (hijo, man, dude), spoilers for spiderverse movies. but ofc since this is a crossover it won’t be completely the same.
status: unedited
[masterlist] [next]
REPLY TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST
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“Mama, stop you’re covering me with your saliva—!” You groaned as you made a half-assed attempt at pushing your mother away.
It was the first day of your attendance at Gotham Visions and you weren’t the least bit nervous. Not at all. Totally. It wasn’t as if you were just thrusted into this situation with no choice whatsoever in addition to the pressure of your family’s wholeass livelihood on your shoulder. No. You were completely cool with this situation. In fact, you were so cool that you’re almost late to your first day of classes.
“But you look so adorable, mi hijo!” Your mother rubbed her face all over yours, messing up whatever you decided to put on.
“Papa what are you doing? Arrest this woman at once, for gross misconduct or whatever—“
“You do look adorable, and if I do I’d have to be fair and arrest you for vandalism.”
You freeze at your father’s not so subtle call out, before swiftly slithering away from your mother’s bear-like grip.
“Augh! I’m going to be late! Hasta luego!”
It was August. The start of a new school year for you. A new life away from your family and friends.
Gotham Visions University. A campus filled with elitists; fancy rich people. The cream of the crop. Your future school. Being a scholar there would have been fine, amazing even! If it wasn’t something you won through a lottery. You felt like a thief, an imposter. Going to a school for prodigies and rich kids as an average old joe is one thing, going to a school for prodigies and rich kid as a poor lottery student is another.
“[Y/N]! How you doing man? Lookin fancy. The uniform so fits ya.” A kid hangs his arm around you. If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure about his name, but you hung out often for basketball and other activities around the neighborhood. With the amount of people that knew you around the community, it was difficult keeping all those faces in your head so you often covered it up with nicknames.
“Psh. See ya next friday for shawarma?” You winked, cringing a little inside for your actions.
But to your utter surprise, the kid in turn blushes before giving you a massive grin. “You bet. My treat!”
And just a few seconds afterwards, he hits you at the back of the head before leaving, “Hey! Ow.”
“[Y/N]! Good luck on school dude! We’ll miss ya! Don’t be a stranger okay? We’re still friends even if he isn’t here.” He waves you goodbye before returning to your mutual posse of friends.
You wave back at them, your expression slowly turning into a solemn one. “I’ll miss ya guys too.”
Grabbing your trusty wireless headphones, you make your way down the block. Sticking random name-tags you drew this morning to distract yourself from the overflowing anxiety in your system.
Unfortunately, it never is a good idea to be so distracted when walking by yourself.
“Contra!” You hissed as your body hit the pavement. No doubt ruining your uniform that your mother painstakingly agonized over getting perfect and neat for your first day.
Then, the sound of a police siren entered your ears.
Can your day get any worse?
“What did I tell you about not looking both sides twice before crossing the streets?”
Your father’s sermon began.
This . . . was going to be a long ride.
“That I shouldn’t do it.” You replied, completely uninterested in the conversation and looking out from the window.
“You’re lucky it was me y’know! What if some deranged man decided to run you over?”
Your faced smooshed on your hand as your elbow rested on the window sill. “I’d send my cop of a father after them then.”
“Don’t act cute with me [Y/N].”
“But it works oh, so, well.”
Your father sighed, “It does.”
“But with great ability comes great accountability!
“Yeah yeah, that isn’t how the saying goes! . . . It was my bad it won’t happen ag…” Right as you were about to tune out of the interaction with your father once more you notice a bunch of people looking towards your direction.
People you knew.
And now they were taking pictures.
“Wow, aren’t you the popular kid?”
“Mier — Can’t you run the red light or shout at them or something? My poor privacy is being invaded!” You desperately tried to hide yourself with your hands but to no avail. The sounds of clicking only grow louder, and your father’s pace on the car slower.
“Yeah yeah~ not this cop.”
“Papa!”
Suddenly, the attention is ripped off of you as a loud crashing noise resounds from above. “Woah.”
Your dad flicked his tongue in annoyance as he checked the damages. “Those vigilantes! Red Hood is one thing, but that Spider-man partner of his. I swear. He just swings by without a care in the world. I just got this repaired last week!”
“I think he saved you from having to get yourself fixed as well. You know, in a hospital. The place with all the bills that just tears holes into your wallet.” You checked the situation outside, confirming the lack of interest in your situation as people crowded spider-man’s fight. “And myself from a mob too. That man’s a whole multitasker and a half.”
“If you ever get a sibling, remind me not to teach them cheek.”
“That if depends on you, yknow.” You gave your dad the smuggest grin you can muster.
Hey, if he’s going to make you face hell for the next few years you might as well give him a portion of it while you had the time.
The car halts, signaling your arrival at the aforementioned hell. “Study well. Our future depends on you, [Y/N]. Love ya.”
“I know.” You groaned, struggling a little to pull your baggage outside of the vehicle and leaving as soon as you got it secured within your grasp.
You are only able to take a few steps when your dad interrupts with the police car’s loudspeaker.
“Where’s my ‘I love you too, papa’ huh?”
“Papa! Seriously?” You screeched, unimaginably embarrassed beyond belief.
“I love you.”
“Right in front of my future peers?”
“I loovveee youuu.”
“On the first day of class?!”
“Mwah mwah—“
“I LOVE YOU TOO!” You relented. Making a sharp turn from facing the originator of your future bully’s material, towards the entrance of Gotham Visions.
Once you get in you make an attempt to greet the people there, but is cut off by their mocking voices referring and imitating the situation earlier.
The embarrassment fills you up once more and you fail to notice your path intersecting with another.
Directly bumping into people seriously knocks the wind out of a dude. That’s probably why those people in those ‘mangas’ he always made you read fell in love at first sight. They were just so light-headed that they couldn’t think clearly.
“P-pretty girl—“
“It’s nice to meet you too.” said pretty girl as she steadied your form. Noticeably less affected by the impact “You’re quite the looker yourself.”
“Ack, sorry! I just get nervous around- yeah.”
She giggled. Oh lord, even her laugh was pretty. “Lovely papa you got there.”
“Augh, you don’t have to remind me.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, slowly regaining your balance.
The bell rings. The real hell has officially begun.
Once pretty girl made sure you were alright, she began running off.
Wow, even the way she ran was pretty.
“W-w-wait, what’s your name?”
“Gwen!”
You sighed as left you behind in the crowd of students.
This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You made one acquaintance at the very least. Maybe your new life at this school would be better.
Your new life at Gotham Visions was, in fact, not getting better.
You were fumbling through the motions like a newborn thrown to the wolves. If you hadn’t built a relatively tight knit friendship with Gwen you were sure you would have ran away by now.
Everyone always ignored you when you greeted them. Your dormmate didn’t even see you as someone worthy to interact with and would often stay awake at ungodly hours doing whatever the hell he was doing on his laptop while you suffered from his ‘background music.’ Your parents only ever talked to you about academics when it was the last thing you wanted on your mind at weekends. You were always, always late to class.
You were practically falling apart at the seams.
You just . . . wanted everything to end. But you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your parents and so you brought it up to your studies. Purposely failing exams so you’d be kicked out soon enough.
“A zero. How terrible. A few more of those and you’ll have to kick me out huh?” You looked at your Physics teacher with a loosely smug look on your face. You hated Physics, the sciences and mathematics the most out of all subjects. Everything second you spent learning about it could have been spent drawing or doing something you actually adored.
You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just not right for this school.”
“If a person wearing a blindfold picked the answers on a multiple choice exam at random do you know what score they would get?”
“. . . Around 25%?”
“That’s right!” She flicked her pen towards you face before pressing the butt end of it to your paper.
“The only way they would get all the answers wrong . . . “ She then twirls around, marking your grade from 0 to 100 by placing the respective numbers to each side. “Is to know which answers are right.
“You’re trying to quit, and I’m not going to let you.” The smug look only your face slowly dissipates and transfers to her own visage. “Now I know you’ll probably try to worm yourself out of this which is why I’m calling in back-up.”
“Wayne.” The woman moved her gaze to your classmate. A strained smile on her lips as she stared him down.
You didn’t know the billionaire’s son that well, or any of your peers but Gwen for that matter. Just that he was as stuck up as his gelled up hair. Always sneering at you whenever you had to sit beside him with those uncannily pretty green eyes of his. You thought that it may have been your smell or something. Maybe he could tell how poor you are in comparison by your scent. But judging by the fact that he was just as much of a loner as you were if not more, you’re beginning to think otherwise.
“I’m assigning you two an essay, not on physics but on yourselves. What kind of person you want to be. I know you two are quite different in terms of personality and backgrounds, but I have a feeling it’ll all work out.” She walked behind the two of you, roughly placing her hands on both of your shoulders before squeezing you closer together. “And no, Damian. I’ll know if you decide to finish it all yourself. Don’t test me.”
“You two are dismissed!”
Damian takes one look at you and you can tell he’s listed a thousand things he disliked about you already. He re-secured his backpack prior to giving you one, heftily stern warning. “Listen, we’re going to meet at my house this weekend. 6pm. Don’t be late.”
“Sure! Where’s your . . .” and before you could even complete your question, he was gone. Just like that. “. . .house. . .”
You grabbed your own belongings with a moan; betting that the trust fund kid’s own probably costed a hundred if not a thousand more times than yours.
You swiftly go to your room. Mind completely empty and disassociated before an idea crosses your head.
You dial in the numbers on your phone before you could even think properly.
“Hey, Unc. Mind if I come over?”
No matter where you went. The route to your Uncle Aaron’s house was always in the back of your head. He was your true home. The only man who understood you — who made the effort to understand you.
You spot him on his couch, looking as cool and swag as ever with his legs spread a little bit apart. He laughed as you smooshed your face to his window before opening it and letting you tumble into his abode.
You lazily dropped the bag you brought filled with spray paint.
He patted your head and massaged your scalp, the stress you felt already noticed and acknowledged. “Sup little dude. You lookin’ down. Is this about . . .”
“What? No. I’ve already moved on—“You shook your head. In all honesty, the only good part about Gotham Visions was that it kept you distracted from grief. But before you could continue you spot a familiar image settled in a frame. Emotions started crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. “You . . . kept the picture.”
Aaron rubbed his thumb across your cheek as your eyes began watering, “You know I can bring you over to visit him. It’s pretty close by y’know.”
“I- I think I’m good. I came here to just chill out, y’know?”
“Let’s go, I know a spot we can let some of that pent up art juice out.”
A smile. A real one. Not one you forced on yourself whenever you met with your classmates, Gwen or your parents started to make a reprise on your face. You almost don’t remember the last time you did it because of your emotions and not due of the façade of being okay.
“See ya.”
You take one last look at the photo before rushing out with your uncle.
“Mig.”
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shellxrls · 1 month
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BABYTRAP !
— r. cameron
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synopsis: rafe cameron x fem!reader… stumbling upon your ex at a party, you can’t help but fall into the trap of sleeping with him at least once more.
warnings: manipulative!reader / exgf!reader / babytrapping / aggressive, unprotected sex / dubcon (rafe is high & drunk) / mentions of substances such as weed and alcohol
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a mixture of masculine cologne and the unseemly combination of alcohol and weed — you could smell rafe before he stumbled into you. he was being forced out one of the rooms lining the hallway of tannyhill, a crass hand shoving him out while he muttered a stream of curses in retort and attempted to single-handedly rebuckle his belt over his sagging trousers.
considering you were just about deeming your search for him futile, you seemed to have lucked out, grabbing the hand that had now moved on to buttoning his shirt. and cooing at his face, “she seemed like a bitch, wanna hang with me for a while rafe?”
his lips draw into a line at first, tension lining his face as he weighs up his options, but you pout your lips and pull down your shirt and once his eyes gravitate towards your tits, he lets you lead him into a private room.
“wanna tell me what happened?” you nod towards his haphazardly buttoned shirt, raising your eyebrows in question.
“nah,” he slurs his words a bit, torso leaning towards you until his head was looming over your own, “bought me in here to fuck hmm?”
you pause, slightly taken aback at his blunt nature — but it was rafe, so it’s not like you expected any less, it wasn't a surprise that the combination of intoxicators floating in his system had only made him more prone to aggression.
“c’mon tell me i’m wrong,” he pushes, heaving his body closer until he was shoving into your chest and you could feel his liqueur-stained breath on your cheeks.
he wasn't exactly wrong, but that didn't mean you weren't ready to retaliate, “gonna fuck me like you mean it this time? or you gonna cum before you make me like i bet you did with that girl earlier?”
“fuck you. actin’— actin’ as if i didn’t do enough for you while we were dating, always comin’ to me about some stupid shit ‘n crying, now i’m in the wrong?”
before he’s realised he’s driven your back into the headboard, spitting in your face with the mass of unresolved emotion bubbling to the surface— yes you were his ex, but more often than not it seemed like it was built on the foundation of mutually beneficial emotional support, fixing each others faults in a way.
sighing, you can’t help but tongue your cheek, you wanted a quick (and good) fuck, not to be forced into listening to his critiques of your side of the relationship, “you done yet?”
“mmh,” he grunts, clearly riled up “imma show you who’s fucking done.”
with that he’s straddling you over the bed, your back pushed into now mussed sheets and eyes already glazing over in preparation for the intensity of his sexual frustration.
hastily, he drags down your panties and discards your dress into some crevice of the carpeted floor, wordlessly manhandling his palms over your body, just feeling— reminiscing.
“fuckin’ hate you,” he huffs clearly exasperated at the weakness of his own will as he jerks himself against your slit, coating himself in the arousal glazing your pussy to prepare both of you for the stretch.
you both sigh when he finally gets it in, whinging until he’s reached the hilt and his balls are meeting your ass.
“missed you rafe,” you hum, creeping a hand to his lower back to push him in closer, encouraging him to start thrusting.
he smirks a little, eyes flickering in cynical joy, “forgot how easy you’re swayed with just some dick, princess.”
you mewl at the nickname, patting him on the back for penance when he increases his pace, the sound of skin-on-skin overtaking the bass leaking through the door and forcing punched out whines and whimpers to exit your mouth— noises of pure and utter degradation, all at the mercy of rafe’s cock.
rafe’s nearing the edge soon, you can feel it from the way he throbs and somehow grows heavier inside of you, and so you clench a couple times to motivate him, forcing higher pitched noises out of your mouth to which his own lips contort into pleasured grunts.
“fuck ‘m gonna cum baby, you’re close right? fuck, yeah you’re close,” the words tumble out of his mouth, his pelvis clenching tighter.
ever so slightly sex-dazed, you struggle to form the words, but once you finally regain your motive, a line of “love you rafe, i love you, iloveyou” ‘s spew out of your mouth, just in time to have him gasping around air and looking utterly confused as he’s forced into cumming.
before he has time to regain his bearings and pull out, you wrap your legs around his torso, digging your heels into the meat and repeating your prior words. constraining him into cumming deep inside of you, trapped into rutting it back into your pussy, oversensitive dick going flush at the base and squelching perversely while cum trickled out of you and oozed onto the sheets, sticking to your thighs and his crotch.
“fuck, ‘m sorry- i— i just, i got so.., you love me?”
“mhm rafey. gonna have all your babies now right? so we’re gonna have to love each other,” you faux pout, patting at your stomach and gathering his trembling hand to finger his release back into you.
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matryosika · 6 months
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Never Have I Ever
Pairing — Chan, Changbin x fem!reader Wordcount — 8,913 words Genre — 18+ Includes — Mentions of body insecurities and past romantic relationships. Struggles with sex and sexuality. Consumption of alcohol (but no sex under the influence). Explicit sexual content, smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — It's been a while since I've post something this lengthy... I have to be honest, I started writing this last year (July 2022) but I felt so unsatisfied with it that I never got to post it. I made some corrections, added some more details and now I'm ready to share it with you! Hope you like it. Please remember to leave a comment, reblog or ask if you liked this. And! This is the yearly reminder that I own a ko-fi. If you wish to support my work further, you can leave me a tip there! The link is on my pinned post. Thank you for reading me.
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Smut warnings — Use of pet names (baby and princess). Dirty talk, threesome activities, mutual masturbation, oral sex (m. receiving), double penetration, first time anal, description of pain and crying during sex. Multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pulling out and facial.
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"Never have I ever..." Chan hummed, his right hand swirling the green bottle he had been drinking from for the past minutes, "had sex in a public place".
He looked at you and then at Changbin, his curious gaze wondering how he missed an opportunity to make either of you drink from your alcoholic beverage.
"I haven't had sex in a public place," Changbin mumbled, "but I have done other things".
"You have to drink either way," Chan insisted.
"You said sex," the black-haired complained, "next time try to be more specific".
You sat there in silence with a look of amusement as you witnessed the silly discussion your two best friends were holding.
"There will not be a next time," Chan sighed, leaving his bottle on top of the small coffee table next the shared couch, "at this rate, we are going to be wasted and she will remain sober".
You smiled with victory imprinted on your face, imitating Chan's action and leaving your beverage on top of the table, "we should've betted money on who was the most innocent one among the three of us, I could've ended the night with more bucks than the ones I have on my wallet".
"I can't believe you dated that asshole for 3 years and yet you didn't do anything with him," Changbin murmured with disbelief.
"Do you think I am lying?" You questioned him, tilting your head slightly backwards and resting it on the wall behind.
"I know for a fact you are not," Changbin replied, "that's why I’m impressed".
"Well," you took the bowl of chips that was placed between you and Chan, "sex isn't everything in a relationship."
"You say so because you haven't fucked," Chan scoffed, his characteristic dimples showing as soon as the sound of his laughter escaped his lips.
"We did fuck though".
"You say so because you haven't fucked properly," Changbin corrected his best friend's statement, the choice of words making your skin burn in embarrassment.
"Just because I am not into the kinky stuff you guys like doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the sex with him," you whined, throwing a cushion at Changbin, "plus, why are we making my sexual life a topic of conversation? that's something private".
"It's just amusing," Chan mumbled, taking a sip from the bottle, "you didn't drink from your soju the whole time".
"You guys asked such odd questions," you admitted, "threesomes, sex in public places... how was I supposed to drink when I have no interest in those sorts of things?"
"Alright, alright," Changbin interrupted, both of his arms doing signals for you and chan to be quiet, "we will start small".
You looked at Changbin and then at Chan, unsure of what the twisted game your dark-haired friend was thinking about. Nonetheless, your hand reached out for the bottle of soju and you returned back to your previous position, back against the wall and head tilted slightly backwards.
"Never have I ever given my partner oral sex," Changbin mumbled, both pairs of dark eyes fixed on you as they waited for your final answer.
Placing the tip of the bottle in between your lips, you made sure to drink just a small sip from it. Not being too fond of the taste of alcohol nor the feeling of being drunk, you tried your best to limit your consumption during the evening. Of course, playing this kind of game was rather easy for someone as inexperienced as you were.
"Never have I ever received oral sex," Chan continued the attack, expecting you to hold the bottle again and drink from it.
But, after a few seconds of awkward looks and odd grimaces, he understood that you were not going to take another sip of alcohol.
"Never have I ever tried anal sex," Changbin queried and, again, no response from you. "Well, that one was a bit obvious".
You darted him a killer gaze and he scoffed, looking absolutely unimpressed by your sexual inexperience.
"Never have I ever tried more than 2 different sexual positions with my partner," Chan questioned with a teasing smirk and, for the first time that night, you felt a bit shy at your lack of experience.
It was true that your sexual life wasn't the best, not even with your ex-boyfriend of 3 years, but you wouldn't dare to admit it out loud. For some reason, the thought of having to talk about how much he sucked at those things embarrassed you and, knowing your best friends, they wouldn't be able to forget such a confession.
"No wonder why you broke up with him," Changbin whispered, diverting your attention from Chan's image all the way to his. "Let me guess, missionary and doggy?"
You were not the type to get your cheeks blushed but still, the skin on your face was burning in shame.
"Never have I ever faked an orgasm with my partner," Chan added, capturing your whole attention once again.
You knew Chan and, if you were to take a wild guess, you would say that his countenance changed from amusement to concern. In his face, you could catch a glimpse of almost the same reaction he had when you told him all about your break up and how your boyfriend cheated on you several times before you found out. 
Even though his reaction was rather odd to you, you still took a sip of your bottle, "shit".
"This is way worse than I thought," Changbin sighed, stretching his body and placing both of his hands behind his neck.
"Just one more question and I will let this go," Chan hummed, trying to satisfy his curiosity without making you uncomfortable, "alright?"
You nodded with resignation, "shoot".
"Never have I ever had an orgasm with a partner," and, as soon as you heard those words, you couldn't help but fix your gaze at your shoelaces that were a hundred times more interesting than whatever was going on inside the tiny living room of your apartment.
"Damn," Changbin's harsh voice interrupted, breaking the awkward silence that was starting to fall down upon the three of you, "are you serious?"
"Why would I lie to you about these things?" you asked with a high-pitched voice, your mind bringing back the memories of the few times you got to spend with your ex.
To be completely honest with yourself, you couldn't deny how hideous the sex with him was. It was rushed, fast, boring. He was focused on his pleasure rather than yours, lasting for not more than 5 minutes and calling it a day. "I'm exhausted", "I came so hard", "I'm so sleepy" were just a few of the things he used to mumble right after overcoming his high and, as much as you loved him at the time, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed after each session. He made you feel like an object who was only meant to give him pleasure without receiving any and, for the longest time, you thought it was completely normal.
"You never talked to him about these things?" Changbin questioned you, making your heart sink at the realization that he was just as worried as Chan was about the whole situation.
"It is not a big deal guys," you tried to convince them, even when you knew that it was, in fact, a big deal, "luckily we are not together anymore so I can leave those boring experiences in the past".
"Still," Chan's words felt like he was scolding you, "you went down on him several times and he couldn't even do that for you".
"Yeah, well-" you sighed, standing up from your seat and stretching your whole body, "I will make sure to get a better and trustworthy fuck buddy next time, I have learned my lesson".
Chan and Changbin remained silent as you started to pick up the mess from the living room, gathering the empty bottles of soju and the wrappings of the snacks you had been eating that night.
"Why don't you help me clean up?" you queried, looking down on them while they spared complicit glances at each other, "the living room is a mess and I don't have plans on doing chores tomorrow morning".
"Hey," Changbin hummed, still sitting on the floor with both of his palms against the rug, "we uh-"
The way your dark-haired roommate stumbled upon his words made you curious about what he was going to say next.
"We would like to help you out with your other issue," Chan spitted, bluntly. Still sitting on the couch with his legs spread, he lifted up his gaze to meet yours.
"What other-" you started the sentence with a smile on your face but, as soon as you realized what they meant, the smile and fondness was transformed into nervousness and curiosity, "oh".
"Oh," Changbin repeated almost with the same intonation you did.
"Listen, you don't have to agree to this," Chan rushed to say, standing up from the couch almost as the same time his friend did from the floor, "me and Changbin, we have discussed this for a while now but we just- we never knew how to approach you about it".
You looked at the two men standing in front of you, suddenly feeling your knees and legs ten times weaker than before. For a while, how long is a while?
"When you say a while, what do you mean?" you asked him, slowly placing the empty bottles on top of the table again.
"We both thought you were attractive the first time you moved in with us," Changbin explained, clearing up his throat as he watched you take a seat on the couch again, now they were the ones looking down on you. "Of course, at the time you had a boyfriend and everything, it was never really a plan, just a thought".
"A thought?"
Changbin looked at Chan and then diverted his gaze to something else, trying hard to avoid giving more information than he needed to.
"One night we were just talking about how much we both liked you," Chan spoke slowly, trying to find just the right words to portray their twisted and perverted fantasies with you, "how much we wanted to be with you, like that"..
"And you have decided to tell me that right now because…"
"We just saw an opportunity to bring the topic and we took it," Changbin continued without even daring to make eye-contact with you, "we don't really lose anything by asking".
"A threesome, then?" you queried with your pair of eyes fixed on them. It was new how nervous they looked right then and there in front of you, clenching their jaws and avoiding eye contact at all costs.
Both of them nodded.
"I... will think about it," you concluded shyly, expecting them to say something else rather than nodding and continuing on picking up the trash that you had placed on top of the table after hearing such revelation.
Other than agreeing and whispering a series of "okay, yeah's", your roommates didn't say anything else. The tension in the environment changed but, at the same time, it didn't feel awkward or overwhelming. If you had to describe it, you would dare to say it was almost pensive.
"You have work tomorrow?" Chan asked, interrupting the silence that was quick to build up after your last words.
"No, I am taking this weekend off," you replied, carrying the green bottles all the way to your kitchen counter.
"I'll get those," Changbin mumbled, picking up the bottles that you had left behind because you could only carry that much.
You didn't want to give them the wrong impression, one where you felt awkwardly uncomfortable at their proposal to the point of not wanting to interact with them in any way, but it was almost impossible to talk when your mind was filled with thoughts.
"Everything alright?" Changbin queried, closing the trash bag and leaving it on the floor right next to the trash can.
"Yeah I just- I'm feeling very tired," you replied, blinking several times before fixing your gaze on him, "it has been a while since I drank".
Liar.
You drank less than half a bottle of soju and all three people in that room knew that. 
"You should go to sleep, " the black-haired murmured, not daring to look at you. "We will clean the rest of the living room and continue on working for a bit before going to bed, it's still early".
You unlocked your phone, without having any notion of time, and realized that he was right. You thought it was already midnight but the clock was barely at 10 p.m.
"Thanks," you politely replied, brushing your hands against your denim jeans and standing there for a while before excusing yourself, "goodnight".
As you walked from the kitchen and back to the living room, Changbin's gaze burned on your skin like a fresh cut. He wasn't nervous or uncomfortable, no. He was probably regretful, thinking that the two of them had screwed up an adorable friendship with their best friend just for the sake of wanting to get their dicks wet.
"Goodnight Chan," you mumbled while walking across the living room, Chan's eyes lifting up to meet yours without hesitation.
"Hey," he said, clearing his throat and turning his whole body around to face you, "me and Changbin, we wouldn't want things to get awkward".
"Me neither," you faintly smiled, trying to give him the reassurance he needed in order to understand that you weren't uncomfortable nor scared after their proposal. "I'm alright, don't worry too much about it".
And after he offered you a smile back, you closed your bedroom door right behind you.
Saying you were alright was a lie, especially when your whole body stopped being numb and regained its consciousness. The wetness between your thighs betrayed you once again, just like every other time you were around those two.
"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes and swallowing hard.
Only then, you started to mentally curse yourself. You knew how bad you wanted them, how many nights you spent touching yourself wishing it was one of them making you feel good. You, who even while being in a committed relationship, spent hours and hours daydreaming about any of them bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you until you couldn't do anything but take them completely.
I will think about it.
There was absolutely nothing to think about and you knew it. What was stopping you then? Trying to act all collected and insightful when, in reality, there was not a single day where you could go without pleasuring yourself to the thought of them.
What is stopping me?
You stood there in silence for a few more minutes until you heard their room's door closing, rushing to grab a towel and a pair of clean clothes before running into the shared bathroom of the apartment. It was safe to say that it had been a long day.
Letting the hot water run and taking every single article of clothing before stepping right into the shower, you asked the same question one more time: what is stopping me?
And, as your eyes found your reflection in the foggy mirror, you understood the answer.
You could dream about them as much as you would like, but the nervousness of being not one but with two new partners scared you to death. 
They proposed to you. 
The idea was appealing, but the anguish that it represented was too strong to be fought in such a small period of time. You trusted them with your life, you really did, but you also knew them more than anyone else in the whole world. You knew what kind of girls they dated and what kind of things they did. You were nowhere near those qualifications and the fact that they even brought that idea was as flattering as it was confusing. 
Either way, the mere thought of knowing they desired you like that made you wonder what kind of perverted ideas they thought about whenever they saw you around. What did they see in you that you failed to appreciate?
*
Standing in front of their bedroom's door, you breathed three times before finding the courage to knock on it. The clock would strike 12 a.m. and you knew for sure they were still awake. That excited you as much as it scared you.
The door opened before you could knock again, unsure if they had heard the first pair of faint knocks. Just as you had predicted, both of them were still working on some of their projects.
"Everything alright, princess?" Changbin queried, his dark eyes scanning your figure with discretion. 
Princess. Changbin called you like that sometimes for as long as you could remember and it never failed to have the desired effect on you.
Wearing a black oversized shirt with nothing underneath but a pair of pink panties, it struck you only then that maybe you had executed your idea wrong. In your mind, you completely missed the part of the small chat before telling them your verdict about the proposal.
"Can I come in?" you asked, his body walking just a few steps back as he opened the door for you.
Chan turned around on his chair, welcoming himself with the sight of your body.
"I thought about it," you murmured shyly, sitting on the edge of Chan's bed before daring to look at the hungry gazes of your best friends, "and I want it".
"Hey," Chan rushed to call out your name, his parted lips inhaling more air than usual, "don't feel pressured to do it, if you decide not to I promise things are still going to be the same".
"I mean it," you assured him, "I just- I have a condition".
The three of you looked at each other for a couple of seconds in silence.
"Go on," Chan spoke, his whole body leaning forward.
“You said you often thought about me in that way".
"We do, yeah," one of them voiced but the two of them nodded, eager to hear the rest of your demand.
"I-" for a short moment, your breath got caught up in your throat and you wondered if the sudden courage and bravery were sponsored by the cheap alcohol or your undeniable arousal, "I want to know what you think about me".
Changbin looked at Chan and then at you, his body language changing drastically from relaxed to tense in a matter of seconds.
"Is that what you really want?" He queried. His voice was as seductive as it was intimidating, his question seeming more like a warning than an invitation. 
You simply nodded.
"I know nothing about this," you murmured, the warmth on your skin spreading throughout your body as Chan's and Changbin's gaze fixed on your eyes, "and you two are the most trustworthy men I know".
"So you want us to teach you?" Chan asked with a soft scoff, the lowness of his voice taking you by surprise.
"I just want to understand what is so appealing about sex to other people," you admitted, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head, "I just want to know how much I have missed".
Chan couldn't help but smile with fondness at your words, the warmth in his chest mixing up with the warmth between his legs. It wasn't just the fact that you trusted them enough to give your body to the two of them —it was the knowledge that, now that you had accepted their plea, they had the opportunity to make you feel like no one before.
Changbin walked up to your figure, the mattress slightly sinking as he took a seat right next to you. Whether it was out of nervousness or pure excitement, you couldn't help but shudder once the fabric of his black shorts brushed against the naked skin of your thighs.
"Don't be afraid," he cooed, his right hand moving upwards to find the left side of your face and turning it towards him, "you trust us, right?”
Your eyes met the curvature of his lips and, while his face approached you softly, you melted into his hands. The way his breath was stupidly close to be felt and his hand burned deliciously against your skin had you letting out a soft sigh before making the desired contact with him.
And it felt just like you had imagined it. Even better, you would dare to say.
Alcohol, a pinch of cherries and faint cigarette smoke were how you would describe his taste. He was gentle, maybe more gentle than you had expected him to be. His tongue dragged across your lips without going any further, teasing you and almost making you beg for more. He wasn't running out of breath but you were, letting out small whines while you tugged at the neck of his black t-shirt.
Only then, he interrupted the kiss by sinking his teeth on your lower lip and softly pulling at them, earning a sweet hiss from you.
"Should I go next?" Chan softly joked as he stood up from his seat, walking towards the available space of bed right next to you and sliding his hand up your naked thigh. Your parted lips found him immediately, but he remained in his position without going in for a kiss. "But first, you have to promise us something."
"Anything," you whispered out of breath, both men smiling proudly at how eager you were to have your way with them. 
"If you don't feel comfortable with something, you have to tell us," Chan warned, his eyes glued to the way your lips were inviting him to devour them.
Easy task. You nodded almost automatically, knowing that the odds of wanting them to stop were minimum to zero.
"Contrary to that, if there's something that you want, you will have to beg for it", he cooed, a faint smirk appearing on the corner of his lips as he saw the nervousness in your face, "promise?"
You let out a jittery laugh, feeling your accelerated heartbeats in the deepest parts of your throat, "it's embarrassing".
"It is not," Changbin intervened, his breath caressing the crook of your neck and making your eyes close for a quick second, "we will do anything you ask us to”.
"What do you get from it?" you questioned softly, your mind dizzy from both confusion and arousal.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" Chan asked, tilting his head and brushing your lips with his, completely ignoring your question. 
"Yes," you whispered, your heartbeats going at a mile per hour. Chan smiled against your lips without going any further, trying to give you the clue that you were not following one of his rules, "please Chan, kiss me".
Only then you felt his hand wrapping around your wrist, guiding it towards his lap. He soon placed it on top of his hardened bulge without a warning, his hips moving ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. "Do you see what you can cause if you beg nicely for us?" his hoarse voice inquired and you nodded almost automatically, both of your eyes probably opened like plates at his grittiness, “good”. 
He then gave you what you were wishing for so long, his plump lips moving against yours at a much slower pace than you had expected from him. It was almost as if he wanted to taste every inch of your lips that were mixed with your own taste and Changbin's. 
Unexpectedly, Changbin's hand caressed the skin on your thighs making you tremble against their bodies, Chan's lips drowning one of many pathetic whines that were urging to leave your mouth. Changbin dragged his touch further, lifting the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and finding the pleasant surprise of your pink, laced panties.
"You wore this for us?" he asked against your ear, the sound of his voice and breathing sending shivers down your spine, "you should've thought about it twice because i'm going to rip it off of you”. 
Another chill traveled throughout your body and your skin got covered in goosebumps, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the black-haired one. "You get turned on by words easily," he hummed, nibbling at the skin of your neck, "I'll remember that".
Chan broke the kiss to grasp for some air, the eyes that once looked at you with fondness were now completely clouded by nothing but lust. 
Changbin continued on kissing and biting your neck, that only contributed to the wet patch between your legs becoming way noticeable as Chan's fingertips threatened to make contact with your underwear, the fear of being exposed making you dwell in embarrassment.
"Now, tell us," Chan requested while his fingers reached for the skin of your inner thighs, "why did you change your mind?"
"I-" you tried to give an answer but Changbin's lips attached to your neck and Chan's touch lingering in between your legs were making the simple task feel ten times harder, "I was curious".
"That’s it?" Changbin asked, dragging his tongue along your skin and making you squirm under him, "I know there's something you are not telling us, princess".
And he was right. 
But how were you supposed to tell them that, even long before knowing that they were sexually attracted to you, you fantasized about them every single night?
Even when you were in a relationship.
"I like you two too," you mumbled in between sighs, fearing that Chan's playful smirk meant that he knew exactly what was going on in your perverted mind, "I thought about you as well".
"And what is it that you thought?" Chan questioned, his digits making the desired contact against your clothed core making you part your legs ever so slightly for them, "you can tell us, we know how to keep secrets". Even though the sentence was rather sweet, the hidden meaning behind it increased the tension on your lower abdomen, "after all, we are your best friends, right?".
"I thought about how good you two could make me feel," you whispered, Changbin's figure withdrawing from your neck and fixing your gaze on the masterpieces he had created on it, your skin now decorated with red bruises along it, "I thought about your fingers, often".
Changbin let out a soft laugh, the tip of his digits dragging along your t-shirt and clothed breasts only to end up brushing his thumb against your mouth, "show me how much you have thought about them, then".
With a curious look, you wrapped your lips around his digits without breaking eye contact. You sucked on them slowly, unsure if that was the action he was expecting from you. But, when he let out a soft groan, you understood that you were on the right path.
"Is this what you dreamt about, princess?" he questioned, pushing his fingers deep inside you as you nodded eagerly.
While you were too focused on Changbin's task, you didn't notice how Chan was lifting up your t-shirt to expose more of your thighs and underwear, the wet patch now becoming completely visible for him. He gently caressed your lower abdomen and made its way to your clothed slit, dragging one finger in circular motions and earning a sudden sigh out of you that was repressed by Changbin's digits.
"What was that, baby?" Chan scoffed, impressed by how sensitive you were.
Changbin took his fingers out of your mouth as Chan slid your panties to the side, licking his lips at the sight of how wet you were.
For a moment, you felt shy. Exposed. 
You wanted to close your legs and tell them that you didn't think the whole thing through but Chan's voice was what took you out of those intrusive thoughts.
"You are beautiful," he hummed, his heavy breathing ringing into your ears, "so fucking pretty".
You swallowed hard at his compliments, the skin on your whole body heating up in shyness as you got used to your best friends praising you in that way. 
Changbin's digits turned your chin to face him, placing his index and middle fingers in front of your lips as a mischievous smile appeared on his face.
"Tell Chan how bad you need him to touch you," he ordered, his eyes fixed on the way your lips parted almost instinctively as he brushed them against your lips.
"Chan-" you tried to speak, but your breath got caught up in your throat too soon, "please-".
"Tell him exactly what you want," the dark-haired spoke again. 
Your gaze turned to Chan who was sitting on the opposite side as Changbin, his fingers swirling around the skin of your thighs without actually making contact where you needed him the most.
"Will you touch me, Chan?" you queried, the way your eyes looked at him sending a pinch of electricity to his already hardened erection, "please".
He smiled at your words and, almost immediately, followed your request. Your whole body trembled against them due to the unfamiliar feeling of having someone else other than you touching you like that.
"What else does our princess need?" Changbin cooed, forcing you to face him once again.
"Your fingers," you sighed, trying hard to maintain eye contact as Chan rubbed your clit painfully slowly, "can I please suck on them?".
It was the way you politely asked and not really begged that had them over the edge. It sounded filthier, more humiliating, they would say.
Changbin pushed both of his fingers inside your mouth and, as he pounded them deeper, a loud moan from you that was caught around his digits sent waves of pleasure throughout the whole body.
"Suck them properly," he commanded, admiring how your head acquired a pace of its own as you gag on them, "I’m fucking your pretty pussy with them".
Chan's digits kept on teasing your clit, your hips instinctively moving against them while you tried to intensify the feeling.
"Right there, princess," he cooed, smiling at how your body was more than ready to be fucked, "you are behaving so well".
Changbin's fingers went in deeper, making you gag and drool all over them. Judged by the way he was watching you, you would dare to say that he loved it. He loved how messy you looked, with your innocent gaze fixed on him and your chin completely covered with your own saliva.
"Baby," Chan hummed, leaving kisses on your shoulders and clavicles while he made your way to your ear, "do you think you are ready to take our fingers?"
Pulling away from Changbin's digits you nodded eagerly, the sinful scene of your teary eyes and drooling mouth was enough for the both of them to cum right then and there, completely in love by the ruined image of their beautiful best friend.
"I need them inside me," you whispered, "please fuck them inside me".
Changbin lost no time into guiding his hand all over your wet cunt, the digits that were previously fucking your mouth now grazing against your hole and threatening to force themselves into it.
"Are you always this wet when you think of us?" Chan queried, looking at how his bedsheets were now stained with your own juices.
"I am," you admitted, placing your head on his chest while he held you tight against him, "I am always so wet".
Changbin pushed both of his fingers inside you knowing that, with how wet you were and how good you had lubricated his fingers, the feeling was going to be everything but painful.
"Fuck-" you hissed, moving your hips unexpectedly and feeling that foreign tension on your lower back, "God-".
"Do you want to know a secret?" Chan asked, admiring your face of pure bliss as Changbin's fingers fucked your cunt and his palm rubbed against your swollen clit. You weakly nodded. "We often talked about you, me and him," he sighed, "we wondered how many times you had been walking around the apartment with your underwear drenched or how many times you had touched yourself in your room while we were sleeping".
"She is dripping wet," Changbin hummed, his lips approaching one of your ears, "I bet it would be so easy to just bend her over any surface of the apartment and put our cocks inside her pretty pussy, don't you think so?"
"Fuck yes," you whined, your vision getting clouded with each of Changbin's movements, “it would be so easy for you two to have me whenever you please".
"Only for us?" Chan scoffed, your words having the desired effect on him as his bulge grew harder and harder, "you are adorable".
Both of your hands traveled to their laps, your right one on Changbin's and your left one on Chan's. Shyly, you started palming them through their clothes, earning a faint laugh from Changbin who was still working on your cunt.
"Tell us what you want, princess," he cooed, "we might give you permission if you use your words." 
As soon as you were about to speak, Chan's digits replaced Changbin's palm and continued on rubbing your clit while the dark-haired fucked you at a rougher pace, the soft moans becoming louder and louder as the seconds passed by.
"Please, let me touch you," you whined, moving frantically against their hands, "I want to touch you too".
"Go on," he allowed, his voice becoming lower as your timid hands palmed him through the thin fabric of his shorts.
And without losing any more time, you snuck your hands under their clothes, being welcomed by the warmth of their skins as your hands wrapped around their lengths.
However, you were rather impressed by what you found underneath those clothes.
"Don't be scared," Chan murmured as he noticed your countenance, "we will make them fit”. 
You cursed again at his words, the tension on your lower back increasing as well as the frantic movements of your hands around them.
They couldn't help themselves but let out small grunts and sighs as you jerked them off, pulling down their clothes to give you even more access to their cocks.
Moving your hands up and down, the movements soon started to become sloppier and messier, your eyes started to roll to the back of your head and incoherent words and mumbles were escaping your lips as an unfamiliar feeling took control over you.
"You are clenching so fucking hard around me," Changbin groaned, increasing the pace of his digits, "does that feel good, princess?"
"Fuck yes," you sighed, the overwhelming feeling causing tears to prick into the corner of your eyes, "don't stop, don't stop, don't stop".
"You look so pretty like this," Chan praised, his hot breath tickling against your cheek, "all desperate and needy".
"Faster," you cried, moving your hips in circular motions against them, "please touch me faster".
And as good, compassionate best friends they were, the two of them followed your pleas. You knew that it wasn't going to take you long to reach your climax and, with all honesty, you could say that this was something you had never experienced before.
Maybe because of it you looked too desperate and eager in front of them, moving your hips frantically and trembling between their bodies as you reached your high.
The sight was something they would never forget, feeling the way your hand squeezed their cocks with roughnes as you cried and rode your orgasm. 
"Aren't you such a dirty princess?" Changbin groaned, still fucking you at the same pace just when you were reaching the highest point of your climax and forcing both of your legs open, "coming for the first time in no other than your best friend's bed".
"Oh, God," you cried, biting your lower lip while your body was still shaking.
"Don't close them just yet, baby" Chan mumbled, his digits collecting all of your juices while he held you in place, "don't you want to taste yourself?"
You whined at the faint overstimulation from Chan's digits dragging along your slit, getting completely coated by your arousal. They made their way to your lips and you were quick to clean them up completely, bopping your head and drooling all over them.
Soon, the weight on the bed from your right side shifted as Changbin's figure stood up from his seat. Lowering his shorts and underwear completely, his cock was now at full disposal to you.
And God, was he big.
"Come here," he demanded, signaling for you to kneel right in front of him, "show me what you've thought about me”. 
You had given blowjobs before, countless times, but your ex boyfriend was nowhere near to what you had in front of you. Your mind drifted away as it thought about his thick girth filling you up, making you cry both in pain and pleasure but, soon, those trails of thoughts were interrupted when Chan's figure came into the picture.
"We will be gentle," Chan hissed, placing his hand on the back of your head and guiding you all the way to his hardened length, 
Starting off with kitty licks, you dragged your tongue along the tip of Chan's cock. He let out a soft moan that only encouraged you to explore further, taking the head inside of your warm mouth as your hand reached out for Changbin's length.
"Jerk him off while I fuck your mouth, do you think you can do that?" you nodded against his cock, "if I get too rough, squeeze my thigh and I will stop".
You nodded once again, feeling how his hands pushed you deeper into his length. You were not really trained to take him, but you were determined to prove to them that you deserved to be fucked.
"All the way in," he hissed, hearing how you struggled to prevent yourself from gagging, "don't hold back, baby, let me hear you choking on my cock".
Relaxing your throat for a bit, you were able to take more of him. Squeezing Changbin's cock everytime Chan's length reached a deeper spot inside your mouth, he couldn't stop himself from letting out grunts and groans each time.
"My turn," Changbin hissed, one of his hands gripping your hair in a ponytail and guiding your face towards his length. With drool all over your chin, and letting out small coughs, you took Changbin's cock inside as if you were an expert on it. Now, your opposite hand reached out for Chan's length as you stroked himself with your own saliva.
"You are doing a great job," Changbin praised, closing his eyes and slamming his hips slowly against your mouth, "taking two cocks at the same time".
From then on, you started acquiring a pace of your own while sucking them off. Having one of their cocks inside of your mouth while stroking the other one, you spent all the time you were able to before your knees started to hurt and bruise due to the material of the rug.
And even then, you didn't want to stop.
The sound of their groans and moans were turning you on more than you would've thought, your available hand always rubbing against your clit as much as you could, driving you to the edge and tightening the now familiar knot on your lower abdomen.
"You have no idea how many times we fantasized about having you like this," Chan groaned, caressing your hair as he slammed his cock inside your mouth, "kneeling down in front of us with your mouth drooling and wanting to take our cocks completely". 
"She is so pretty," Changbin praised, biting his lower lip as he witnessed the scene of your teary eyes and ruined face alternating between his cock and Chan's, "I wonder how much prettier she will look with all of her holes filled".
A sudden moan escaped your lips as you heard those words. Of course you knew that having sex with more than one partner was a whole different world than what you were used to, but you never got to think about the implications of it.
"Is that what you want?" Chan questioned, his eyes fixed on the way Changbin's cock disappeared in your mouth, "do you want me to fuck your pussy while he fucks your ass?"
You would be lying if you said that the idea of doing so didn't turn you on.
"It is too soon to try anal," Changbin grunted, letting out a desperate sigh as soon as you withdrew from him to take Chan's cock, "she is not ready for it".
"You think so?" the brown-haired queried, burying himself inside your warm mouth, "I am sure she can take it".
Changbin gave him a worried look, but he wasn't going to deny the fact that he was dying to fuck you from behind. He knew how tight your cunt was from earlier, when he was fucking his fingers inside of you, and he could only imagine how much tighter your ass was.
Luckily for the both of you, he always kept a bottle of lube around for those kinds of rendezvous. 
Walking towards the small nightstand right next to his bed, he took out a black, small bottle that caught your whole attention as you awaited on your knees for him.
"I am going to ask you this once," he softly mumbled, caressing your hair and putting a strand of it behind your ear. "Do you really want to try this?"
You knew it was going to be painful but knowing it was them who were causing you pain only turned you even more.
"If you decide that you suddenly don't want it anymore, we will stop," Chan warned.
You stood up from the floor and walked towards the bed, removing your black t-shirt that was now ruined with drool, tears and even precum.
Chan laid down on his own bed with his hardened length inviting you to straddle over him, softly guiding your movements on the bed as he held your hand. You sat down on his lap and allowed him to continue with the task, one of his hands reaching down for the base of his cock to align it with your entrance.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked you with his jaw clenched, dragging the tip of his cock along your slit and earning a few sighs from the both of you. You simply nodded. "It's going to hurt, but I know you can take him".
You stared at Chan for what it felt like hours, and only regained consciousness of the place and position you were in once you felt the weight of the bed shifting as Changbin positioned himself right behind you, resting one of his hands on your hip while the other one held the bottle of lube.
"I think she is ready," Changbin announced and Chan lost no time in entering you, lifting his hips ever so slightly while burying the tip of his cock inside your tight cunt.
"Oh, Go-d," you breathed, leaning down on his figure while you placed both of your arms on each side of his head.
"Take me all the way in," Chan mumbled, pressing your figure down so that his cock could reach the deepest spots in you.
And even though you weren't a virgin, you had never felt such an overwhelming sentiment like this. He was bigger than what you were used to and he tried to do it delicately but awfully failed as he surrendered to his instincts, pounding himself inside you rather harshly for a beginner but just as pleasant. 
They both gave you a few minutes to get used to Chan's girth, squeezing it and clenching around it every time Changbin caressed your back and neck in an attempt to soothe you before the pain.
"She is so fucking tight around me," Chan hissed with gritted teeth, completely losing his mind over how wet and warm your pussy felt around him.
Just like he imagined it.
"How does it feel to have Chan stretching you open?" Changbin asks softly, placing a couple of wet pecks on your shoulders and neck while he lazily stroked himself with a fair amount of lube.
"It feels good," you admitted with shortness of breath, feeling dizzy on top of Chan. "I've never felt something like this before".
There was something so filthy about hearing you speak in such a manner that Changbin couldn't resist you anymore. You soon felt the palm of his hand on your lower back, pushing your body, forcing it to lean over Chan's and —once he caught the signal— wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly in place.
"Take a deep breath for me," Changbin ordered, getting even harder at the cold sensation of the lube as he poured more on him and your tightest hole. "We are going to count to three, yeah?"
Changbin always appeared to be someone tough but, it was at times like these, where you truly could appreciate such a soft side from him.
"One," he breathed and you felt Chan's arms tightening around you, his face buried on your neck and chest while he felt your body shuddering on top of his.
"Two," Changbin continued and your back unconsciously arched a bit more for him. "And three".
After the last number, you felt a numbing sensation throughout your body. Your toes curled up in pain and you tried hard to muffle the pathetic cries and whimpers but failed almost immediately.
"It hurts so much," you cried and Chan started to caress your back, feeling his heart pounding at a thousand miles per hour as he witnessed your vulnerable body on top of his.
"We know you can take us," Changbin hissed, softly pushing himself even deeper inside you. "All you have to do is get used to our cocks".
You whined and Chan hugged you even tighter, allowing you to cry over him as Changbin stretched your ass carefully. There was something so twisted about feeling your painful tears landing on his neck and chest that, for an unknown reason, riled him up even more.
"Don't move," Changbin ordered and you did as you were told, your hands gripping the bed sheets harshly while you tried your best to overcome the painful –but pleasant– feeling of having them both inside you. "I want to feel you".
Chan's hands traveled from your waist to your back, caressing it while trying to soothe the pain. You spent a good minute or two with your eyes closed, the only audible thing in the room were your cries and their heavy breathing.
"You think you are ready?" Chan asks you softly, leaving soft kisses on your breasts while still having his arms wrapped around your body.
"I think I am," you finally whispered after a few silent seconds, feeling your arms trembling in fear while still being able to hold your whole weight on top of Chan.
Changbin was the first one to move, slowly withdrawing himself from you only to thrust his cock again, making you cry in pain.
"You are doing such a good job," Chan praised, one of his hands reaching out to try the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. "It's just a little bit of pain, I am sure you can take it".
Changbin continued training you, softly pushing his cock inside you while trying to get you used to his girth. The pain never really went away, but the sudden sentiment of pleasure was quick to appear in the equation and, with that, it was ten times more bearable.
"Go on," Changbin hissed, trying his best to control himself. "She can take you now".
Chan lifted his hips slightly and almost came when he saw your grimaces of pleasure and pain, his cock throbbing at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and teary eyes getting completely lost.
"Am I hurting you?" Chan asked you and you weakly shook your head, unable to focus on him —or anything, for that matter— because of the overwhelming sensations.
And as soon as they were sure you were alright, they started to acquire a pace of their own. They were going slow, much more slower than they would prefer, but it was still pleasant nonetheless.
Chan's lips captured your hardened nipples and, if anything, that single action made everything way more enjoyable. The cries and whines were soon replaced with moans and whimpers, and the gentle movements lost their softness once they both felt you were ready for a bit more.
"I don't think I am going to last long," Chan admitted between sighs, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.
Changbin was on the same page, but they both wanted to give you one more orgasm before their own. One of his hands traveled to your swollen clit and, while they both fucked your holes, he tried to mantain a steady pace while rubbing it.
"Oh my f- God," you moaned, both of your eyes opening like plates once you felt your body jolting at Changbin's touch. "It feels-".
You couldn't describe it, but they both knew what you meant by the way your holes clenched around them.
"You are dripping wet," Changbin whispered, coating his digits with your fluids while trying his best to get you to the promising orgasm. "You think you can come one more time for us?"
You didn't have time to reply when your eyes were already rolling at the back of your head and your arms started to tremble, threatening to lose any strength that was still left in them.
"God," you whispered again, parting your lips and looking like a complete mess for the both of them. "There, right there-".
Changbin increased his pace and it was only a matter of seconds before Chan started to feel your walls tightening around him almost aggressively. He closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, trying his best not to come just yet.
He wasn't wearing a condom and coming inside was definitely not an option —but God, how he wished it was.
"Just like that," Changbin praised while admiring your body shaking instinctively, his hips slamming against yours softly while you were still trying to overcome your high.
"You are making me lose my mind," Chan whispered as he saw your face, feeling completely vulnerable at the sight of your glossy eyes and parted lips. "It isn't fair to have you around and not be able to do this as much as I want".
Your arms lost all their strength and you inevitably fell on top of Chan's body, crying as you felt the overstimulation washing up on you.
"I'm not going to last long either," Changbin hissed and, with a swift movement, pulled out of you. You whined at the sentiment of emptiness, but it was also a relief.
Chan lifted your hips too and followed his best friend's actions, leaving you completely empty and a sobbing mess.
"Where do you want us?" Chan asked, caressing your cheek and pushing a strand of hair away from your face.
"Wherever you both want to," you replied with shortness of breath and feeling a bit dizzy.
Of course they both wanted to finish inside you, but it was definitely not a good idea.
At least not tonight.
So Chan looked at Changbin and he did the same, almost as if they didn't need words to communicate with each other.
"Get on your knees," Changbin ordered and Chan smiled, recalling one of those times where they talked about how pretty you were and how much each fantasized about coming on your face.
She would look even prettier, Chan had said.
You followed their instructions and kneeled in front of Chan's bed, patiently waiting for them to approach your figure.
They both stood in front of you, stroking their cocks with their gazes fixed on your face. Changbin's hand even gripped your hair a bit harshly, setting you closer to them and in place so they could finish on your face.
"Stick your tongue out, baby," Chan panted, increasing the movement of his wrist on his cock.
You soon felt his arousal landing on your cheek, tongue and chin while a series of curses and groans left his lips. Changbin, once he saw the filthy image of you covered in his friend's semen, came next. With him, it was way more messier: tongue, chin, lips, cheek and forehead.
You swallowed their cum proudly, feeling as if it was some sort of reward for being able to take all the things they had chosen to give you that night. And they both admired the scene in awe, feeling their softening cocks twitching at the sight.
"You both taste good," you murmured, still kneeling in front of them. "I never thought I would like it".
Chan caressed your hair softly while Changbin's digits lifted your chin just so they could both catch a better glimpse of your face covered in cum —one of their biggest fantasies.
"Perhaps we should play the game again," Changbin mumbled, collecting some of their semen with his thumb only to push it inside your parted lips. "And see if your bottle of soju is still full after we are done". 
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mellowsaturns · 1 year
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starry nights
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JOEL MILLER X READER
summary: late at night in the middle of nowhere, you and joel talk about the past… and the future
warnings: soft!joel my beloved, fluff, tiny bit of angst, heart to heart talk, idiots in love, mutual pining, friends to lovers, slight mentions of violence and loss 
wc: 1.3k
— — —
It’s Joel’s turn to keep watch when a low gentle voice brings him out of his concentration.
“Joel,” it whispers ever so softly. “Joel. Joooel.”
Turning his head, he meets your eyes from below.
“Why are you still up?” he gruffs.
You shrug your shoulders. “Can’t sleep.”
He pokes at the dwindling fire. “We have a long day tomorrow.”
“I know,” you sigh. Snuggling out of your sleeping bag, you pivot your way over and sit next to him. “I think I’m just excited that we’re almost at our destination,” you say as you lean your back against the rockbed. The past three months have been rough—so much loss that you didn’t know how much more you could take.
Closing your eyes and tilting your head back, you take a deep breath in to savour the moment of peace and quiet before opening it back up again. “Hey,” you whisper while nudging Joel's arm. “Look at that.”
He follows your trail of sight and when his eyes adjust to the light, he couldn’t help but exhale in incredulity.
Because deep in the mountains, miles away from the nearest human civilization, a cluster of stars are shimmering above the two of you against the night sky.
The both of you admire it for a moment before you speak. “When was the last time you ever saw something so beautiful?” you ask breathlessly, turning your head over to him.
Joel doesn’t answer, just simply looks at you and you see that glint in his eyes again—a look you can’t decipher but never ask him about.
Ignoring it, you continue, “You know, this is actually kind of romantic.”
Joel’s forever thankful you don’t have some kind of super sonic hearing. Because the rate at which his heart’s beating was truly embarrassing.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “You ever been stargazing before? Like… on a date?”
You laugh, “God, no. No one ever did anything that romantic for me. How about you? I bet you were a real ladies man.”
He lets out a low chuckle thinking about the old days. “I was not.”
You snort. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Well, that’s the honest truth. Never really paid attention to them.”
“Oh, so you were the hard-to-get type, huh?” you tease.
From the small ember of light, you see a flush of pink creeping over his cheeks and you smile in triumph. It’s hard to get Joel flustered and you take in the moment to revel in that small victory.
Maybe it was the serene surroundings and the rare moment of safety but there’s a calm and comfortableness between the two of you—almost like the world wasn’t in ruins and you were on some camping trip pre-outbreak having a chat hours before dawn.
“I’m just teasing,” you say. “But do you think I would’ve had a chance?”
He perks up at your comment. “What?”
You can’t deny the fact that you had a crush on him. Have carried this feeling ever since Tommy first introduced you to the group. And that feeling has only gotten stronger ever since you embarked on this journey with him.
You bite your bottom lip nervously. “I mean…” you gulp, “If we met before the outbreak… Do you think you would have looked my way?”
Joel freezes. Completely freezes in his spot.
Reading his expression your heart races in panic. “I—I don’t know why I asked you that,” you stammer. “Jesus—I must be out of my goddamn mind,” you mumble, looking down in embarrassment. “It’s probably the lack of oxygen up here. My brain isn’t working. I’m sorr—”
“Yes,” he blurts out.
You snap your head up. “What?”
Swallowing a nervous breath, he admits, “I… We… Of course I would’ve.” A pause. Then, “I already do.”
“Really?” you whisper with that same glint in your eyes.
After spending years working together, he’s surprised you haven’t caught on yet. He’s not the best at expressing his feelings and tries to lock it up, but it slips sometimes—more times than he liked, because in spite of everything, his heart’s defenceless with you.
He had so many things he wanted to say. Like if he had met you then, he would’ve been the happiest guy on fucking earth. That he’d bring you your favourite flowers and take you out on unprompted dates—like seeing the stars in the back of his pickup truck. Afterwards, he’d take you home and shower you with his love—if you’d let him.
And Sarah would have loved you too.
It sort of pains his heart to think about the Joel from another lifetime ago. But if the conditions were a little better and the two of you weren’t trekking in the wilderness day and night, he’d still want to do the same, if you’d give him the chance too.
But he’s unable to get the right words out. After years of rough survival, he isn’t exactly the best at this romance thing anymore.
So he just nods slowly, hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.
Your attempt at stifling your grin fails. Even though Joel never elaborates on his comment—borderline confession—you wrap it around your heart because nothing more needs to be said.
Something shifts in the cold mountain air and your heart beats with joy.
But at the same time, your heart aches at the memories of the past.
“Do you think the world could ever go back to how it was before?” you wonder.
The question falls silent between the two of you.
In truth, Joel doesn’t know if the world was ever going to get better.
But in that moment, for the first time in many years, it’s different from all the other times you asked. Because for a split second, there’s a lingering feeling of hope between the two of you—at Ellie who’s sleeping a few feet away, whom the both of you care for greatly, more than the two of you would like to admit.
Once everything goes according to plan, maybe he’d actually be able to do all the things he wanted to do with you. He’d have to make up for all the years missed, but it would be easy, Joel thinks, because there wouldn’t be a need to constantly look over his shoulders anymore.
“It could,” he says curtly.
You smile at him. At his optimism. So different from the Joel you met years ago. He was always hard-headed. Always a pragmatist. But ever since the three of you left Boston, his heart’s gotten softer and you see flashes of the version of Joel that Tommy always talks about. It doesn't help your heart at all.
“The first thing I’d do is retire,” you announce, stretching your legs dramatically. You were sick of being a smuggler.
Joel lets out a tired laugh, no doubt thinking the same thing. “... I’d want an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch. I would raise sheep.”
You chuckle at his words. “Ah. Like a true Texan.”
Maybe there was something waiting for you in Wyoming. Maybe the two, perhaps three, of you could live that sought after idyllic life together.
That dream was still days away but you don’t deny the good feeling brewing in your chest. All that loss and violence must have been for something, right?
“You should get some sleep,” Joel says, pulling you out of your little reverie.
“Already told you, I’m not tired,” you reply, but minutes later, you’re fast asleep on Joel’s shoulder.
He looks at you fondly, then back up at the flickering sky and wonders if a shooting star had passed by earlier unbeknownst to him and heard all his desires.
Pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head, he goes back to guard duty, a little more Joel Miller than before.
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