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#at least he's hot <33

barrel-crow-n · 4 months

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Inej when she was younger: I want a kind, pious boy who brings me my favourite flower because he took the time to know me well enough to know which one I like most

Inej's future boyfriend: A bitch, literally the most impious person alive, people literally think he's a demon, gifts Inej knives instead of flowers, chucks flowers into the canals

#“isn't he just so dreamy?”#at least he's hot <33 #no he's TRYING okay??#he may be a soaked evil rat of a man #but he is TRYING :3 #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows duology #kanej

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satoruxx · 7 months

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thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF

AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33

OK SO

it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.

the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.

well until he notices you anyway.

you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.

he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.

satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.

typical and so predictable.

some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.

and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.

but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.

suguru would probably like you too.

so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.

you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.

dammit.

"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.

"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.

"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"

satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"

realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."

satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.

you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"

he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."

the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."

satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"

you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."

satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."

your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.

honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.

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verstappen-cult · 4 months

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GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant. BONUS. . . lance stroll.

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

it stared with a couple of innocent kisses in lando’s driver room before the race. you don’t usually engage in that kind of behavior at least until after a race, but lando was feeling a little under the weather and while you were only trying to comfort him, he had other plans. and, well, if that makes him feel better you won’t deny him a little bit of fun. now, you’re straddling your boyfriend’s thighs, it’s hot and you want to rip your top and his fireproofs off, and lando, as always, is one step ahead of you. his hands slip under your shirt, the pad of his fingers softly caressing your skin as his lips find the pulse point on your neck. you don’t know if the whimper you hear belongs to you or lando, the only thing you know is that the race can wait a few minutes.

“lando it’s time to g–” you don’t hear the end of the sentence because lando’s race engineer it’s too stunned to finish speaking. you’re quick to jump off of your boyfriend’s lap, but you’ve been caught and it’s impossible to deny what you were doing, there’s evidence on yours and lando’s face. the man just laughs and closes the door, saying something about keeping his head clear of any distraction.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

you were just trying to help charles clean his shirt after you spilled your drink on top of him. but he was so close to you, his breath tickling your cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, and it just happened. the kiss was shy at first, both of you uncertain of what you were doing. but then you were being lifted up by charles and sat down on the sink, legs immediately parting to make room for him. you didn’t care that you were in dani’s guest bathroom and anyone could walk in on you, you also didn’t care when charles’ hands found your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh while his mouth kept the assault in yours, neither did you care when those same hands lifted your dress up, up and up until you could clearly feel the effect your kisses were making on him.

you were ready to ask charles to do something when the door opened startling you both. charles stepped away and you jumped off the sink, trying to brush your hair and looked presentable to the owner of the house who was now looking at you, surprise written all over his face before bursting out laughing. “guys! you won’t believe this!” it only took a panicked looked between you and charles for the boy to sprint down the hallway to try and shut his friend up.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

you don’t know if australia has something in the air or if being in oscar’s childhood bedroom is making you feel a certain way. but the second the door closes, you’re leading him to the bed. oscar is a little uncertain at first and looks like he’s about to say something, but the words die in his throat the moment your lips find his. he doesn’t wait a minute in taking control, and lays you down on the bed, his body on top of yours. then your impromptu kissing session it’s not enough, you need to feel him closer, you want his hands everywhere.

“would you like some lemonade?” it’s too late for you to pretend to be doing something else than being in an intense making out session when oscar’s mom, the woman you’ve just met that same day, opens the door. when she sees the scene, she quickly closes her eyes, hiding behind her hands. it would make you laugh if it were any other situation. oscar doesn’t move but looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “i did not see a thing!” you would pretty much prefer for the earth to swallow you whole than to face the woman again.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

it’s not max’s fault that you look so, so good in that damn dress that all he wants is to rip it off of you. if the FIA gala wasn’t so important—it’s not. not for him, at least—he would get out of there immediately. instead, he has to settle with crowding you against a wall in a secluded corner of the building when he finally has some time for you. he can barely keep his hands to himself, and is touching you even before you can feel his lips against yours. max whispers sweet nothings as his lips go from your mouth to your neck and then up again, making you feel dizzy. he lifts your dress up around your thighs, and you allow him access in a heartbeat, not caring about anything but how addicting his kisses are.

“ejem,” a cough makes max pull away, and doesn’t hesitate on shielding your body with his, giving you enough time to fix up your clothes. “we’re next.” christian horner tries to look at anywhere but you, and you don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or feel ashamed. both, probably. max dismisses him with a simple nod of his head, and once you’re alone, max goes back to what he was doing before. you still have a few minutes to spare, he says.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

you were having the time of your life choosing an outfit for a party next week, your boyfriend waiting for you just outside the changing room; you actually were focused on trying to zip up a beautiful black dress you had chosen when the door opened, revealing alex with a mischievous smile on his face. as quick as he opened it, he closed it behind him. you didn’t question him, it’s definitely not the first time he’s done something like this, so, you, more than happy, welcomed him with open arms and a set of pink and plump lips. and alex is immediately swiping his tongue across your bottom lip and kissing your properly—kissing you so slow while gently cupping your face, trying to take as much as he wants from you, and you’re ready to give it to him freely.

“is someone there?” a girl’s voice startles you both, but before you can think of hiding alex or saying something—not that you can with your boyfriend’s mouth against yours—she’s opening the door. neither you nor alex know what to do other than to stay very still and very quiet, as if that would make the girl forget what she saw.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

you told daniel that hiding in the airplane bathroom to make out wasn’t a good idea, but you still got up and went voluntarily when he gave you the signal. waiting for him to knock was torture, you were pretty sure you were going to get caught. but when you opened the door and your boyfriend pulled you in to finally kiss you, you forgot about everything. the way daniel kisses should be illegal—how he lets you take the lead until your kisses become sloppy and your head feels dizzy and you can’t keep up with it because it feels so good. then he takes control, gripping your waist with such force it’ll leave marks; the mere thought makes you weak in the knees.

“open up! you can’t do that in here.” a huge knock on the door makes you pull away, but daniel doesn’t let you go, chasing after you until you give up and kiss him again. this time the kisses are more intense and the tiny bathroom it’s too warm and you’re wearing too many clothes. the person behind the door is forgotten the moment daniel gets so close that you become one. you’re already in trouble, so, it’s doesn’t matter if you stay a few more minutes in there.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

kissing at clubs is not something you would’ve done in the past, not even when lights are so low and no one cares what the person next to you is doing. but ever since you started dating mick, there are a lot of things you’ve already done that you never thought you would do. and making out in a corner of the club with mick pressing against the window, his body molding into yours just in the right spots is definitely one of them. mick is practically knocking the air out of your lungs with the way he’s kissing you, and you have to hold onto his shoulders afraid of melting to the ground. you don’t know where you are, and you really don’t care as long as mick keeps kissing you like that, so you don’t push him away when you feel his hand making its way up your thigh, getting closer to where you need him the most.

but then you hear people laughing. mick pulls away first, groaning for being interrupted, but then you look around and you’re right next to the bathroom from where a group of girls are walking out. you feel all the blood in your body rushing to your face, they look amused but you want to disappear. you hide your face in your boyfriend’s chest and don’t look up until mick is the one lifting your chin up to kiss you. this time he takes your hand while saying something about going home to finish what you started.

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

it’s childish. and all of you are adults. you definitely should not be playing truth or dare in a party like thirteen years old. however, you don’t say anything when oscar dares you to spend seven minutes in the closet with logan. it’s true you both have been dancing around each other for a while now, what you didn’t know it’s that it was so obvious for everyone around you too. the cheering from your friends dies down when the door closes and you and logan are alone. you look into each other’s eyes for a minute, pure silence in the secluded space, then logan glances down at your lips and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize he’s asking for permission. your eyelashes flutter as you take a step closer, and he wraps his arms around your waist without a trace of hesitation. you’re gasping into his mouth the next second, his lips warm and soft. his fingers brush along your jaw and, in that moment, you decide this won’t be the last time you’re gonna be tasting his lips, you want to do it every hour of every day.

but then the door opens and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been burned. there are a lot of eyes looking between you and logan for a moment before someone shouts “fucking finally!” and everyone’s laughing and cheering. when you look at logan again, he has a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

★ — LANCE STROLL (18)

lance made sure you two were alone in his parent’s house before taking you in his arms and sitting on the couch. he smiles at you with the same bright and pretty smile that stole your heart one time two years ago as you run your hands through lance’s hair, down his neck and over his shoulders, letting them rest on his chest. lance grabs onto your waist and meets your lips halfway, all his body relaxing immediately. he kisses you so softly but determined, licking into your mouth when you give him access, like it’s his last day on earth and he needs you to keep breathing, surviving. you let his hands roam freely over your body and you can feel your heart pounding so hard, almost as if it’s gonna jump out of your chest and you can’t do anything about it. when your boyfriend’s hands graze your lower back for a second before grabbing your arse, a tiny mewl escapes you.

and as you’re about to grind down, “oh my god!” lance’s sister screams in surprise. you both look at her, more embarrassed than afraid. you know your cheeks and ears are as pink as the shirt you’re wearing, and you feel like your skin is actually burning. ”well, i guess we had the same thought.” she says stepping aside, her boyfriend coming into view with a shy smile on his face.

requested by @biancathecool. . . The boys (individually) Nd fem!reader getting caught making out, with the driver having thier hands shoved down their gfs pants or up their shirt 🫠❤️ Alsin if you could please add lance in this one.

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pupkashi · 11 months

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in which gojo realizes you truly see him

a/n: just a little thought i have i want to comfort him and hug him always <3 thank u to the amazing wonderful lovely @vagabond-umlaut for helping me w this fic <33 would’ve been hot garbage without u i love u xoxo <3

wordcount: 720

masterlist

Gojo Satoru had only known life through his many titles.

Gojo Satoru, head of the Gojo clan.

Gojo Satoru, holder of the Six Eyes and Limitless.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer.

satoru hated titles. he hated being known and labeled for the things that didn’t even make up who he was. no one after suguru came close to trying to get to know him.

his fellow sorcerers always too busy or intimidated, viewing him as a spectacle.

there was a sense of longing in his heart to find someone who really wanted to know him. someone to ask him all his favorites, someone to ask him what he wanted to be as a child, what his fears were, if he had a middle name, what animal he’s always wanted as a pet.

but there was never anyone who got past the surface level questions.

until he met you.

you who upon meeting him gave him a kind smile, not a clue of who he was, telling him he could sit with you in the booth of the much too crowded coffee shop.

“they really should get more chairs around here” he mumbles, looking up at you with a small grin when you laugh in agreement, glancing up from your laptop.

“seriously! half the time it’s a gamble if I’ll be able to get some work done or if I’ll have to drive back home” you chuckle, gojo smiling at your words.

you both spent some more time talking, sipping on your respective drinks and getting to know each other.

satoru found out you had no clue about Jujutsu, given by the way you’d never heard of jujutu tech or of him. he couldn’t stop himself from giving you a charming smile, scribbling his number on a napkin before saying goodbye, a smile on his face as he walked out of the coffee shop.

you who on the second date asked him what animal he thinks he could fight and win, asking him his favorite songs and if he’d ever been to a concert before.

you who on the fourth date had him giggling, confessing how much he liked you and telling you all about his life because he wants this to work out so bad and it can’t start off as a lie.

you who a week later calls him, asking him to answer truthfully when you ask him what animal he could really take in a fight, laughing when he answers with ‘at least a cow’ his lips curling upwards at the sound.

he’s laying on the couch with you, your hands lost in his hair as the movie plays in the background softly, your voice is quiet as you speak up.

“do you have a middle name?” the question is simple, some might think it silly. but to satoru it’s like his whole world is flipped upside down.

because here he is, in your warm and homey apartment that’s nothing like his cold larger one, with you, who brings him all the love and joy he could’ve ever imagined. he’s looking at you with glimmering eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of you in his shirt that you’d stolen with a smile.

it’s with that question that he’s realizing he’s finally found someone who really wants to know him. who doesn’t care for his power or status, but cares for his terrible jokes and interests.

“toru?” you asked, pulling him out of his daze and back to reality.

“sorry” he smiles sheepishly before shaking his head ‘no,’ a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.

satoru finally finds himself with titles that mean something to him. titles that he cherishes and holds close to his heart.

Gojo Satoru, who eats anything and everything that was sweet, claiming they’re no match for the sweet taste of your lips.

Gojo Satoru, who had an insane secret obsession with romcoms. an obsession you were sure was just to get you to cuddle him until you found him up at 3 am watching a terrible hallmark movie all on his own.

Gojo Satoru, who couldn’t stand when you were mad at him, going to drastic measures for you to forgive him.

Gojo Satoru, who considered himself lucky enough to hold the title of your boyfriend, your confidant and your favorite sorcerer.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabble #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru x reader fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff

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suguru-getos · 6 months

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— satosugu as boyfriends —

it’s hard to decide who’s your bigger fan, satoru or suguru. they’re so in love with everything you do & are so supportive! it took a LOOONNNGG way though— let’s say you met them when they were still in school & so were you. though — you were not a sorcerer. satoru doesn’t mind, he hated non-sorcerers before for making him the reason he’s so looked upto. now thanks to suguru, he wants to protect them. suguru knew you much before than satoru, you were his neighbor after all. how else could you hangout with people who have such major power differences?

things changed after the riko incident— you could see the hatred that suguru slowly festered within him. there were days satoru came to suguru’s apartment to relax & play games with their other juniors like nanamin or haibara. these days you could hardly see the fun… suguru goes out and comes home & that’s all. you and him used to play together as kids and despite you reaching out, suguru was shutting down.

it was until he killed his own parents — that satoru took matters into his own hands. killed hundreds of people & adopted, some girls!!?!?!?? what was even happening!! to protect you, satoru shifted you to the gojo estate. it was simple really, you were a non-sorcerer & suguru would not really care about your life right now just to prove a point.

a year went by just processing what was happening. of course— spending a year with gojo satoru also meant that you two had become incredibly close. earlier, you were invited by suguru over because you & him had always played gaming consoles together. right now, it was totally different. you didn’t know satoru was so mature, and so kind when needed, although keeping his childishness still intact. you were the only one he could openly talk about suguru with. not even shoko — her & yaga had started calling him geto to detach maybe. yet it’s endearing to see such fondness in satoru’s eyes for his bestfriend aka almost lover aka what could have been.

long story short— suguru could not kill you. it’s sickening to think he could do so with his parents but after a year or two when he finally went to the gojo estate having known your whereabouts & missing the chaste peck he stole when things were alright. he cried. hugging you tenderly. expressing how he thinks he shouldn’t have been high on adrenaline that day & did what he did… he wants people like satoru to suffer less. he wants to do something ‼️

it takes a while for suguru to start healing, no one suspects that the strongest sorcerer satoru gojo had secretly kept his best friend in the gojo estate along with his almost girlfriend. :33 even the girls are present with megumi and tsumiki & despite their contrasting personalities— things have seemed to settle for once.

you knew suguru liked to cook so you were now greeted by him preparing you the sweetest ever breakfast in bed, meanwhile satoru insisted you sleep with him (to protect you) :3 yeah as ifff 💁🏻‍♀️ man was too shy to make the first move just yet because you had been trusting him so good. afraid to fuck up. though when you agree? oh he is out of this world. suguru is happy too, in a way he also gets to spoil satoru like this.

satoru uses his old money to ensure you three go on trips at least once every 2-3 weeks. the recent one that you remember is paris. for new years !! it was beautiful to confess your love for each other and finally officially start dating. you were spoiled by insanely hot balcony sex that day. ;)

suguru has improved & also started honing his skills. though during one of the much intimate conversations, you had asked him to trust you enough to come home to after swallowing the sabotaging negativity of a curse & to let you kiss it away. <3 you trust him to follow through with it.

suguru can get especially testy when you’re around your period and satoru decides to mess with your mood. normally, satoru’s teasing is ignored but during those days he gets smacked from sugu. :3 satoru just wants your mood to be better :(( not in the same sense as suguru perhaps. so satoru takes on the role of your sugar daddy as usual. getting you your favorite snackies and stuff.

there is no power dynamic as such between the two of them. really— they’re just equals and you like that despite being in a relationship, satosugu can be switches to each other and daddy doms to you as always.

satoru was the first one who discovered that making you feel smaller, would regress you up a little. you’d cutely pout & get subby and babytalking to you during that rare occaision would actually get him you in the form of putty in his hands. so satosugu are mostly like “let daddy handle it sweetness.” / “oh no you’re too small for that, give me.” / “no baby you can’t reach there, let daddy help.” and ugh it makes you so fucking submissive for them they love that & YOU love that😩

satoru and suguru together decided to get you another cat which would be a cute little brother for your pet. they are such good pet fathers you often wonder how good they’d be to kids — oh wait, 😏 you have their adopted babies to witness that first hand too! how lucky! 🍀

nsfw hcs later alligator i’d elaborate on this more later too! enjoy my word vomit besties 👯‍♀️ send me jjk askies 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you!

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luveline · 12 hours

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omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.”

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?”

“I love when guys wear rings.”

“I had a suspicion.”

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I can see black and white spots.”

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.”

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience.

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.”

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?”

“It’s not?”

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.”

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?”

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.”

“That’s nice.”

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.”

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.”

“Let you?”

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.”

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.”

“Something like that.”

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle.

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.”

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?”

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.”

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man.

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.”

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.”

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?”

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.”

“You do?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.”

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long.

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date.

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs.

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger.

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh.

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.”

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?”

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.”

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are.

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But…

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day.

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.”

“We’re definitely married?”

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring.

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support.

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.”

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure.

“You okay?”

“I guess our second date really did go well.”

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.”

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain.

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?”

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away.

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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chrolloluvr · 3 months

Note

Hey, I saw some other headcanons similar to this and absolutely loved the concept! Adam x reader, love at first sight? Like he just makes it his mission to go out with reader afterwards?

Adam falling love at first sight

Note: TY FOR REQUESTING!!! This is also before the big fight on ep 8!

Female!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, creepy behavior, adam is smitten for you 🌺🌺

When he first sees you, he immediately was struck by an unfamiliar feeling. Who the hell is this chick?

He has never felt this way about Lilith, or even Eve, so what was different about you? He had to find out. And usually when he sees a pretty face on a woman, he thinks of vile, guttural thoughts. But with you, all he thought about was the way you looked so graceful, and how you carried yourself, and your beautiful eyes, and your glistening skin, and your-

Lute had violently interrupted him from his daydreaming, by basically yelling at him for the whole promenade to hear.

He had Lute immididietley do some detective digging on you. He at first was going to go up to you to ask for your digits, but he felt... nervous?

After lute reported back about her findings, she had told him all about you. He didn't know it, but he was truly in love. He just could not stop thinking about you, and how to get you.

He told Lute about these feelings, and when she explained, 'Sir, it seems you are in love', he flat out refuses it. He tries to convince himself you are just some hot broad, that he just happened to run into.

If he were in a meeting with Sera, he would have you running laps in his mind. Planning the next extermination? Goddamnit, get out of my head you stupid bitch!

He comes to the conclusion that to stop thinking about you, he needs to talk to you. So he sad Lute figure out your number and address, and thats when he tries to get with you.

This man will literally rehearse his first meeting with you in the mirror, as if he is a teenage boy going on his first date. But he isn't, and this is definitely not his first date, or at least, this is his first real time trying to impress a woman. Because usually, he does not need to act fly to get any girl he wants.

After you find out he is THE Adam, you flat out say no, because you dont want that kind of attention. So you start to ignore him. But that just motivates him to keep contacting you.

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:31

Hey babes, wyd? you down for dinner tonight? Just you and me.

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:33

Or maybe we can watch a movie and chill?

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:47

C'mon babe, how can you refuse me? Ill meet you there in 30 ;)

XXX-XXX-XXXX 5:50

Hey, respond?

XXX-XXX-XXXX 7:10

Hey sugar, lets do something tmrw isntead since your clearly busy 😘

He will send you huge bouquets of flowers, along with a handmade book he made, filled with "anonymous love letters" which you can clearly tell are from him due to his messy handwriting.

He will then eventually "accidentally" bump into you. Every time he does, you are basically forced to talk to him and listen to his tangents, on how going out with him is the best choice you will ever make.

And honestly, he just does not stop bothering you. Even if you were to straight up tell him to leave you the fuck alone, he wont.

"Hey y/n whats up? Whacha doing tonight...? Maybe it can include me. im free yknow, if you ever wanna hang. Im great at choosing places or if you want you can choose-"

He is truly in love with you. He wants you to eventually be his future wife in his mind, making you the third. And in his mind, you already are.

If you just keep telling him off for months, hell, maybe even years, he will never get over you and your beauty.

If you eventually say yes to a date, he will be so excited, but will play it off because hes just chill like that. But he is down so bad for you, and honestly wants you all to himself.

#adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader hazbin hotel #adam smut #adam fluff #adam hazbin #adam x you #adam x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #helluva

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mxtantrights · 9 months

Note

Hugging Jason Todd and holding for dear life from his slutty little waist

This ask was amazing and honestly I had fun writing this! Thank you so much for sending it in<33 you can read this as a stand alone or as part of the greatest hits au which can be read in it's entirety [here]

"What did you just say?" Jason asks.

You look up to see his face. He looks concerned to say the least. From this angle he looks like he might have heard you say you hated reading books. It was that bad.

You smile, "I said thank you for letting me hold onto you."

"No no, after that. Something about my waist." he says.

You smile even harder and shake your head at him. There was no way you'd repeat it again, there was a billion ways he could make you say it and he wasn't doing any of them. Which meant he definitely heard what you said and just wanted to confirm it.

"Honey, did you just call my waist 'slutty' and 'little'?" he asks.

Okay so you're a little drunk. Three drinks and a shot will do that to anyone you think. But maybe you could have kept that to yourself.

There are certain things about Jason that you keep to yourself most of the time. Like how hot the gray streak in his hair is. Or how he looks amazing in all black. Or how he knows how to kiss you off your feet-well that one he might already know.

You place your face deeper into his chest. He's got his arms around you now, shielding you from the other patrons in the bar. It's not like anyone would take pictures of the two of you. Jason and you frequent this bar so much that the regulars greet you like old friends and the owner doesn't let rabid fans in.

So, you squeeze you arms around his waist tighter. And you keep like that, sniffing in his cologne.

"I think it's time I bring you home."

you lift your head up and smile at him.

"Your home or my home?" you ask.

"They’re the same thing." he answers.

You gasp. Jason shakes his head and laughs at your reaction. He settles the tab with the bartender and turns you around. Not fully, his hands are still on you. He's got his arm around your shoulders. Your arm is around his waist. And then he starts walking to the door with you.

"slutty little waist." you mumble to yourself.

Jason croaks a bit, "I love the enthusiasm."

"You're so welcome baby."

#dcblurbs #famous dc!au #jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd x you #Jason todd fic #Jason todd #dc x reader #dc x you #dc imagine #dc fic #dc

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aryxchse · 2 months

Note

hii! could you do f! reader dating percy headcannons? i loved you jason grace one <33, thanks!! but also no worries if you can’t do it

ocean eyes. | percy jackson x fem!reader

a / n : i 💃🏻 am 💃🏻 on 💃🏻 to 💃🏻 see 💃🏻 my 💃🏻 husband 💃🏻

warnings : percy jackson's hot self, cursing

- alright mr obsessed af

- dating with him is like dating with a mama's boy who never leaves his mama's side

- you are the mama btw

- constantly hugging you, or has an hand on you, follows you around like a puppy etc

- overprotective, possesive, jealous, would kill someone for you, obsessed

- those are his red flags

- i won't write green flags because it doesn't end

- the only main problem is his fame

- at least five people falls in love with him the moment he enters somewhere

- but, he's only looking at you ofc

- 'everybody's watching him, but he's looking at you-u-u-uu'

- he does have girl friends but you know them all

- you know when he's shitting at this point

- the type of guy who does something and it looks unintentionally hot

- but he doesn't get why you're drooling all of a sudden

- hearts from water in the lake

- matching outfits

- sleepovers in his cabin, because cabin 3 has a calming aura

- being the mom and dad of the camp and leading the activities

- do i have to mention that sally knows you before he even introduced her to you??

- swimming in a bubble, exploring the sea

- wearing his silly shirts

- you constantly break the dressing code just to wear his sea creature shirts

- sword practicing together

- exploring the camp's forests

- sneaking out from the camp just to see a movie or visit an aquarium

- long talks under the cozy blankets

- matching shark plushies that are married

- your shark is pink

- "jewel told me that blue made her upset."

- "no worries, i already beat the shit out of him."

- dirty words whispered in your ear out of nowhere

- like, now-i-have-a-pool-between-my-legs kinda dirty

- he loves playing sports, he doesn't only swims, so you can often cheer for him on his multiple games

- like that one night he organised a football game night with the gang, and as girlfriends you cheered the boys

- wearing his jumpers that has your lucky number behind it

- kissing you after winning the match

- serious talks that turns into a therapy session

- carrying eachothers ugly childhood pictures in your wallet

- shopping together to buy camp's needs

- surfing together

- hanging out in the nyc on his skateboard

- constantly going on an adventure

- loving the shitty quests like 'finding hecate a special gemstone' or 'stealing aphrodite's hair clip from the museum'

- being in love with either or both of you is the camp's rite of passage at this point

- inside jokes

- babysitting estelle

- dancing in the kitchen

- you may think it's romantic like any other couples do but you guys dance to disney songs while both of you pant from jumping

- going to greek mythology musicals like hadestown

- dating with percy is like dating with that one boy best friend of yours that you loved all of your life and realised he was the one this entire time

#my american boy fr #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show #pjo tv show #percy x you #percy jackson x reader

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celestie0 · 2 months

Text

choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

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billysgun · 5 months

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sneaking

billy the kid x cowgirl!reader |on a cloudy morning, you and billy sneak behind the barn to steal kisses from each other|

It's been something you two have been doing for a while now, sneaking out of the cabin at the break of dawn and running behind the barn like kids

you sway softly, looking up at the cloudy sky as the gray swirls above you and you think back to last night.

the gang went for a drink and you and Billy were "too tired" to go, it was true, but you two ended up having a wonderful hot bath, holding each other while he kissed you softly

"mornin' beautiful"

you turned and saw the gunslinger, messy hair, and rushed button-up as he cupped your face and kissed you softly.

this has been your routine for months, a make-out session before breakfast to keep you both sane from the lack of touching in front of the group.

"I almost snuck into your room last night 'cuz I wanted to see you so badly" he admitted on your lips and you giggled softly, the gang arrived much earlier than expected and your time together was cut short

the reason you both sneak is for your safety mostly, if the old outlaws knew you were with one of the men here, you'd be as worthy to them as one of the lady of the nights. and that would be putting your life in danger.

"why didn't you?" you giggled and he kissed your nose

"Jesse barged in right when I was gettin' up...we have a big job today apparently" he shrugged, arms wrapping around your waist as he stared into your eyes. you hummed a response as your lips turned down slightly

"wish the mornin' lasted longer" you whispered and he chuckled softly

"we ain't gonna be ridin' forever, love...I'll get my name cleared and we will get married...get a little cabin and everything" his eyes were starey as he talked about your future plans, you giggled and nodded along

"that sounds perfect, Billy!" you grinned, about to open your mouth until you saw smoke escaping the chimney and you knew at least someone was awake

his eyes followed you and sighed, taking your hand to kiss it and you both began to walk

"I'll see you later, love" he mumbled before you went to the back door and he went to the front, you blew a kiss and walked in where you were just a single cowgirl, and him, a single cowboy.

an: i love you all so much thank you for all the support!! <33

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kentopedia · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ IN ALL THE LINES I'VE READ — nanami kento

summary . . . coffee shop meet cute with literature professor nanami <3

contents . . . sfw, written w f!reader in mind, lit prof nanami tehe, fluff, grumpy nanami, reader is a barista, age gap (nanami early 30s, reader early 20s) — 1.4k

notes . . . selfship coded :,,) this is such a random idea from rylie's brain (and drafts) bc i must post something for my most beloved for valentine’s day <33 i have some other ideas for this so let me know if you like it !!!

The first time you meet Nanami Kento, it’s in a dimly lit cafe in your hometown.

The evening is just dawning upon you, the grey of the dreary sky turning into a muted black. It’s just after 5pm; the sun already fading into the horizon, drizzly rain coating the windows like crystals.

You’ve been busy all day — it’s always busy on rainy days, when people seem to recall that the ambience of rain pelting outside mixes well with a cup of warm coffee between your palms. The tables are all full, now that people have gotten off work, and it’s a favorite study spot of many students.

It’s tiring work sometimes, and there are days where you get weary of the same routine. When saving up money seems like a fruitless effort, and you feel like your life should’ve begun already.

But it’s also good to be around people like this… Seeing them laugh and smile, while you only wonder what they’re talking about. The job pays less, but it’s better than being cooped up in a office all day.

“Hey,” one of the other baristas sets a latte down, a pattern of milk sitting just on top. “Can you run this to the man over there,” she points to a blonde in the corner of the cafe.

Wordlessly, you take the mug, wiping the drops of coffee that have spilled over the sides of it. The customer had ordered a pastry as well, one of your favorites. There is a small puff of steam wafting off of it, the bottom of the plate still hot.

The man’s back is towards you, facing the window, and he’s bent over a pile of papers. You can’t see his face — but his hair is done up nicely, and his white button-down sleeves are rolled up to his elbow. There’s a nice watch on his wrist, silver and black; one that’s probably more expensive than anything you own.

It’s a balancing act, weaving through the tables with the pastry and mug in hand, and when you get to his, there’s no room to set his order down. Papers are scattered across the table, and there is a stack of well-loved books beside him. A few are titles you recognize, ones you’ve read, ones you own but haven’t gotten to. Some you know only vaguely.

“Here’s the latte,” you say, distracted, scanning the spines of the books. The man mutters an apology, and moves his papers so that you can set the coffee and plate down.

He doesn’t look up at you, offering only a dismissive thank you. But the sound goes unnoticed by you; you’re too preoccupied by your excitement. So few people walk in here with with books you’re actually interested in discussing.

“I’ve been meaning to read that one,” you say, pointing to a title that is on your long list of books to be read.

He hums — it’s obvious he doesn’t care, and the sound is just one of acknowledgement.

Embarrassment heats your cheeks as you realize this is probably something he gets often. Upon second glance, he’s attractive… breathtakingly so. He probably fends of hoards of woman, ones who use books to gain the key to his heart, even if they’re only pretending to be interested.

“I enjoyed his other books,” you continue, highlighting the ones that you’ve read and love. At least, then, he’ll know you’re not an idiot, even if he stays silent, eyes glued to the paper.

His pen stops scratching marks into the sheet, but only for a second. Then, he carries on, unimpressed by whatever slim knowledge you’re able to supply.

“Are you a teacher?” The words leave your lips, once before you can stop yourself.

He doesn’t care. You aren’t sure why you’re even still bothering.

“Nope,” he replies, finishing up his summarized commentary, scribbled in a penmanship that is something in between messy and elegant. “A professor.”

“Oh.” You’d thought he was too young to be a professor, but when you look at home closer, there are faint lines around his eyes, ones even more obvious on his forehead. Around thirty, you’d guess. Maybe even older than that. “That’s interesting.”

You should probably leave him alone. He’s busy, and you’re supposed to be working, and he probably thinks you’re a child, the way you’re talking to him like a brick wall. Yet, there is something about him that keeps you glued to your spot, so intrigued by the stack of novels and the way his hand flexes around the pen.

“Is it?” There is a hint of irritation in his voice when he finally glances up at you from under the round, wire-rimmed glasses, perched on the bridge of his nose. The pen drops onto the table with a soft click. “Because, I find that—”

His lips part. Whatever he was going to say next seems to die, abruptly cut off, and he blinks at you. Two dark eyes scan your face with a hint of surprise.

You’re cheeks warm, and you suddenly feel uncomfortable. It’s not typical of you to make conversation with strangers, and you’re certain he notices how awkwardly you’re standing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, clearing your throat, and pointedly ignoring the lump in it. His silhouette had been striking enough, but it’s nothing compared to the entirety of his face. He’s beautiful — like he’s stepped right out of the pages of a novel himself. He feels like everything you’ve ever wanted, with his stack of books and piercing irises. “I’ll let you get back to grading.”

“No need to apologize.” The tone shifts a bit, his voice not as rough. Maybe you’re just delusional, but his eyes appear to soften. “I’m almost done, anyway.”

You nod, and a little smile pulls onto your face. It’s not quite true; the stack of ungraded papers is twice as large as the ones he’s finished. “Well, I should … Get back to work. Enjoy the coffee.”

He smiles, amused; your heart flips, then sinks all the way down to your stomach, pounding. “Alright. Thank you.”

“Have a good night!” you say, far too quickly, before turning on your heels. Your hands are sweating, and you hope he never comes in again, because you’re not sure that you can stand the embarrassment you feel.

The blonde professor, name unknown, lets you go, and you slink off to hide in the kitchen, cursing yourself for acting like a fool. With hot cheeks, you down a glass of water, big gulps from your shaking hands, and glare at your co-worker when she grins to herself.

Thirty minutes later, your shift ends, and the professor has made his way out the door, walking down the sidewalk. As you leave the cafe, your bag over your shoulder and hair undone, you notice that he left one of his novels, the one you’d pointed out to him in the beginning of your conversation.

You rush out to stop him, carrying the book with you. “Hey,” you shout, waving it to the stranger. “You left this.”

He glances over his shoulders, bundled up in a coat to combat the brisk air. There’s a redness on his cheeks from the cold, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I know,” he says, hands firmly tucked in his pockets. “You can keep it.”

“But—” you start, swallowing as the pages rustle with the wind, the cover snapping open.

“You wanted to read it, didn’t you?” he shrugs. “I’ve got lots of copies. You can give it back to me when you finish.”

You start to question him, but he’s already turned around, heading away.

Which means he’ll be back, won’t it? You haven’t scared him away completely.

You shout something at him, and turns, just halfway, making a face that tells you he didn’t hear you.

“That’s my name,” you say again, repeating it, licking your lips. Your only hope is that he’ll offer his.

But he doesn’t — he keeps walking down the sidewalk, before he answers a phone call, and crosses the street.

Unsurprising.

You sigh, gaze dropping down to the book. The pages are filled and filled with his handwriting, notes in the margins, highlights and lines across the words. So much thought had been put into it, that you wonder how many times he’s read this book, if maybe, it’s a favorite.

The wind flicks the cover back to the front title page, the publisher underneath. In the top right hand corner, Nanami Kento is smoothly written. As if he’d wanted you to discover it yourself, instead of hearing it from his lips.

You trace it, and smile.

#this wasn’t meant to see tumblr but here we are so #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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dean-a-mean-tae · 3 months

Text

Stray Kids as Hybrids

WARNINGS: Minho and Felix are "defect" hybrids. There's cussing in this. I got the information from research, so if you're an animal "expert" respectfully correct me.

Master list | Not requested, but I don't care.

Chan (Grey Wolf)

He has a grey tail with grey ears that have a black rim.

His fur is extremely fluffy, and he sheds a lot.

In his human form, he has curly hair that's so grey it almost looks white.

Though he has a ton of fur, he doesn't feel the heat.

He needs a lot of nutrients.

He'll eat over 13 pounds of meat at least once a week.

A "healthy" amount of meat for a human is 23 to 33 ounces per week. There are 16 ounces in a pound.

You can do the math yourself.

He's never gone over 12 days without consistent meat intake.

You gotta feed him.

Good luck. 13 pounds = 208 ounces

He won't tell you he's hungry, but you can hear his tummy from across the planet.

In his wolf form, his ears stand up and point forward.

In his human form, his ears just do what they want.

Contrary to popular belief, wolves barely bark.

Whines can be a sign of affection or distress.

You need to pay attention to the signs and what's going on to know the difference.

His growls are warnings, and his loud ones are when he feels threatened.

His quiet growls are playful.

Chan has and will go over to Minho or Seungmin and put his paw on them. IYKYK

the pictures of those 2 wolves are hilarious

Minho (Tiger)

Unfortunately, Minho is considered a defect.

He looks like your stereotypical tiger.

It's just the tip of his tail is white instead of black

In his human form, he has brown eyes that turn yellow when he's in a bad mood

His "defect" is his hair. It's dark brown which makes the orange in his ears stand out.

Believe it or not, he prefers to come out at night.

He doesn't mind the day as long as it isn't hot.

Occasionally, he'll sunbathe, but it's seemingly random.

He, unlike most tigers, doesn't like water. He can take showers and baths, but big bodies of water are a no.

He can't see the bottom. He isn't getting in the water.

He still likes the knowledge of having access to a lake. Preferably a private lake.

His animal form is almost 9 feet at a weight of 650 something pounds. The weight is healthy for his tiger form.

If you thought Chan needed a lot of meat, then Minho is a nightmare. ;-;

Tigers require 88 lbs per week. :)

Since he's a hybrid, he can eat at least 75 lbs. Which is 1200 ounces...

His weight is perfect for snuggling, but his weight is painful if he lays on you.

He doesn't like roaring because it's loud. He grunts and uses chuffs to communicate.

If you are ever cold, just lay on him.

Tiger fur can get so hot that steam might come off their fur when in the snow.

He isn't very sociable and prefers his own space. He doesn't mind you or the boys, but it's obvious if he doesn't like someone.

You know that thing cats do with their tail when they feel mischievous?

The tip of the tail starts flicking but everything else is still?

That's Minho.

You always know when he's done some stupid shit or is about to

Changbin (Hare/Jack Rabbit)

He has brown fur with a white tummy

He gives off Thackery the hare from Alice In Wonderland 2010 vibes

He thumps, in both human and animal form, when he feels endangered or if he wants something

Usually, it's because he wants something

As an animal, he does the binky thing where rabbits jump high in the air

He only does it when he's extremely happy

Sometimes, his legs kick off too high, and he falls forward, like in the picture on the right.

When he's angry, he'll sit on his hind legs with his paws up like he's about to start boxing

When he's annoyed, he'll flick his feet and walk away

Sometimes, he'll kick whatever or whoever is irritating him (like in the first picture)

If he starts nibbling on you while in animal form, it's a sign of affection

Speaking of nibbling, rabbits eat 2-3% of their weight in vegetables.

He's a big boy, so... yeah... have fun. :)

Side note, he's very cuddly.

He rivals Jisung in his attachment to you

He will change into his animal form so it's easier for him to be close to you

Sometimes he'll go flying around the room

Kind of like the zoomies but for bunnies

He is a little dramatic

When he's really relaxed and feels safe, he'll flop over

If he's in animal form, he just does it. Doesn't matter where he is

If he's in human form, he'll flop on the nearest soft object or on the nearest person

Hyunjin (Ferret)

His fur is mostly brown, but he has 2 white rings of fur on his face with a brown spot under one of his eyes.

In human form, his hair is brown, and his animal ears have a white rim.

He's so hyper.

If he isn't running or jumping around the room, he's asleep in a dark space.

Probably under the covers or in a drawer somewhere

Ferrets eat 5-7% of their weight a day.

As a hybrid, he can eat 4% of his weight a day and still be considered healthy.

I recommend just feeding him 5% to be on the safer side.

Ferrets have poor vision. Unfortunately, Hyunjin has poor vision in both his forms.

He wears contacts in human form.

He will snuggle under your clothes and against your skin

If you have a bigger chest, he'll lay between your tits/pecks

If your chest his flatter, then he'll curl up on the left side so he can hear your heart better

When he wants to play, he'll run at people and then quickly run off

He'll keep repeating this until they get the message

When he's angry, he glares and hisses at whatever is causing his anger

He makes cute chitter noses and sniffs when he's curious

Just like other ferrets, he squints when he's sick

Don't get scared if you try to wake him and he doesn't move.

When he sleeps, he's GONE!

He won't wake up until his body is ready.

I like the idea that he scrunches his nose when he's confused

Like genuinely confused. Not "What are you doing?" Confused

I'm talking "What the hell is this thing?" confused

Shit you not! If you have salty skin or a hybrid safe lotion on, he'll lick you. Both in animal form and in human form

He has to be near sleep to start licking you as a human, though

Ferrets kiss, by the way

It's how they show affection

So don't be surprised if you get grabbed and you feel thick lips smack your cheek

He's just giving you a little appreciation, that's all :)

Sometimes, Hyunjin likes to be difficult in his human form

So, like a ferret, if he wants something, he will stare at you.

When you acknowledge him, and you will, he'll repeated glance at what he wants

He refuses to verbalize it until you either get it correct or he's tired of you guess incorrectly.

All just depends on his mood and how generous he's feeling that moment

Ferrets with splay out and sigh when they're sad

It's so fucking cute

Hyunjin does the same thing but on top of you

If you're working on something, like a laptop or iPad, then he'll flop onto that.

Or he'll flop onto your book or something

When you're wearing a hoodie, he'll hide away from the others in your pocket

So make sure it has the one pocket thing and not 2

He can still fit in the smaller ones but he wants the space

Jisung (Squirrel)

He is a ground-dwelling squirrel.

He is usually found sitting on Tiger Minho's head.

Like other squirrels, he is terrified of owls

"Why would someone need to look that scary?! Or turn its head that much?!"

Squirrels do this thing called caching. It's where they find and hide food.

I shit you not! He hides so much food around the house.

He doesn't need a lot of food, but he will gladly stuff his face full.

If you have to travel, then take him with you. He loves to travel and hates being left by himself.

Doesn't matter if you're leaving him with the others. He wants to go with you.

Sometimes he'll sit directly on top of you or pressed against you.

You have no personal space.

If you don't like physical affection, let him down gently please.

He doesn't want to be the cause of your discomfort, so tell him in the most fragile way possible

With that being said, he will use his face to get out of trouble

Quickly turning into his animal form and acting cute so you won't be angry

If that doesn't work, then he's dipping

I'm talking hightailing it out the room and into the backyard

You won't see him until dinner or it's bedtime

Speaking of bedtime, he wants you to tuck him in

So please do it. Give him a kiss on each cheek and then one on his forehead and he'll be good to go.

DON'T TUCK THE BLANKET IN

It makes him feel trapped and like he's in a cage.

Makes him more likely to have nightmares, too.

Felix (Ginger Cat)

Felix is also, unfortunately, considered a defect.

His fur is a golden orange color with lighter stripes.

His eyes look green in the sun, but they're amber.

His "defect" is also from his human form.

His hair is blond like the strips, so his ears stick out. His freckles are also, unfortunately, considered a "flaw."

Most people think when a cat rubs its head against you, it's a sign of affection, which it is, but it's also them marking their territory.

They're scenting you and showing ownership over you.

It's how cats show pride in their belongings :)

If you let him out of the house to hunt, he will return with "food" for you.

He doesn't really think much of it. It's just his cat's side telling you you're family.

I guarantee you'll walk in on Felix either biting the shit out of a toy or him chasing Hyunjin around the room.

Did you know that cats knead because of their early days of nursing?

Kittens would knead at their mothers to encourage milk production. Adult cats knead to show content or to calm down.

Think of it as Felix feeling safe with you.

Felix is the definition of "If I fits, I sits"

If you're curled up on the couch, then he's curled up in the space behind your knees and thighs.

Small spaces make cats feel safe, so be sure to give Felix spots to hide in.

It helps with his natural instinct to ambush.

If Felix stares at you with thin pupils, try not to stare back.

It's his inner cat on high alert, and it could take that as you threatening him.

Meanwhile, slow blinks are kitty kisses.

If you slowly blink back at Felix, he'll do it repeatedly if he's in cat form. If he's in human form, he'll latch onto you and give you cuddles.

If Felix's nightly zoomies irritate you, feed him before you go to bed, make sure he tires himself out before bed, or get him a food puzzle.

Nightly zoomies are leftover energy mixed with their instinct to hunt during the night.

Airplane ears!

If Felix's ears are just sitting up, then he's listening to his surroundings. If his ears are flicking around, then he's agitated or dealing with anxiety.

Either peacefully help him or leave him alone. If he's in cat form, then leave him alone. He'll come to you if he wants to.

Felix knocks things over only when he is bored, as other cats do. It fascinates him to see things topple over. If you want Felix to stop, find a way to entertain him.

When he flops onto your things, it's him scenting your stuff to show you're his and a sign he wants attention.

When the tip of Felix's tail twitches it can mean he's curious or he's hunting. It'll go away when he calms down.

Seungmin (Golden Retriever)

Golden Retriever

A sassy, playful ball of golden fur. He needs frequent exercise and sheds a lot.

Unlike your stereotypical golden retriever, Seungmin's fur is more soft wheat than golden yellow.

His floppy ears blend with his hair when in human form.

Seungmin doesn't like to be left alone. He won't tell you to stay. He will follow you around.

Seungmin doesn't actively seek out strangers. If someone tries to pet him, then he'll move away.

He also doesn't jump on people and hates when others jump on him.

He's not as social as your average Golden Puppy.

I recommend having a big yard for him to run around if you don't have one for the bigger animals.

Please make sure you feed him the proper amounts. He won't hesitate to raid the fridge if he's hungry.

When he grabs things with his mouth, he's extremely careful.

Softly grabbing your arms or a book to move it out of the way.

He'll share his food with you if you beg enough. He won't actively go out of his way to feed you unless you're ill.

If he's being "Destructive" it's because he isn't stimulated enough.

He needs more mental and physical exercise.

He doesn't have separation anxiety unless you decide to give him a terrible backstory on how you found him.

Otherwise, he's pretty confident that you'll come back home.

If something comes up, you'll communicate the issue and a general idea of when you might be home.

If you don't, he'll be pissed.

It's like breaking a pinky promise. Don't do that.

He'll bop you in the face

Jeongin (Fennec Fox)

Fennec Fox

He's got big ass ears and they grow to accommodate his head in human form (Minho thinks it's hilarious)

He's got a cream color hair with white streaks in them

You can barely see the streaks, but the others tell you they're there

He's such a smart cookie until he gets in his animal form.

Then it's like he lost all brain cells except one. That 1 brain cell alternates between Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jeongin. Occasionally, Jisung will get it.

He kind of just rolls around

He's just there, chilling in the silence or the chaos

In animal form, he'll curl up on your lap or on the bed

If you're in an office, pull up a chair next to you and he'll lay in that instead

He may think you're mad at him, but just giving him rubs or head pats and he's good

He's kind of like a cat

You have to gage his moods

If he doesn't want to be touched, he'll look at you as you touch him like the picture on the left

Just "Mittens off, human" paws crossed and everything

Buy him clothes for his animal form. PLEASE

He loves them

Go to Pinterest or something and look up fennec fox in clothes or something and it's so flipping cute

You know that dolphin screech Jeongin does? That but in animal form...

The picture on the right for the header of this post?

That's him when he has too much energy, but no thoughts to put into action

As a human, he's like your average Jeongin, but with big ass fluffy ears and tail.

Sometimes he knocks stuff over with his tail and he's so sorry

After something crashed, you can hear him whine in the kitchen from your bedroom

The others don't tease him as much as they could because they know he's genuinely sad about it

Not insecure, but definitely annoyed with himself for messing something up again

Reassure him please.

Don't make it too obvious because then he'll shut down and tune you out

Not intentionally, it's just his brain's self defense.

It doesn't want to be reminded of his mistakes.

It's the main reason why he likes staying in his animal form.

This was fun

©️DEANAMEANTAE2024

462 notes · View notes

heavenlyvision · 3 months

Text

More than friends

Word Count: 21.9k

Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader

Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗

A/N: Okie dokie ! It is finished,,, I hope you all enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations. I apologise for it taking so long ! I've been struggling with motivation to write lately but I am pretty proud of this big one and thank you for being so patient !!! <33

Summary: Temporarily living with Johnny has it's challenges, especially since he still isn't being upfront about his feelings or your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of stalking (ex), alcohol consumption, minor harrassment (ex), mental instablity (ex), minor mentions of violence, arguments, mean!Johnny, possessive/jealous!Johnny, reader has a nightmare, masturbation, thigh riding, biting, cunnilingus, grinding, creampie (?), minor dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, minor overstimulation, no use of y/n

MDNI

The past few days with Johnny have been good, you have mostly been watching movies and playing board games. He offered you a deal – for every movie you watch, you have to watch one of his after. A fine deal by any means… if you hadn’t already seen them. Being friends with Johnny means watching all of his movies at least once but it seems like staying here has given him the opportunity to make you watch them all again.

If he hadn’t been so kind and you weren’t so worried about being ungrateful or overstaying your welcome, you would complain and kick up more of a fuss but all in all, you don’t really mind. It’s not like his movies are bad… okay, some of them are definitely not good but he’s still in them so you don’t really mind. He’s a good actor and a good-looking man so it makes sitting through the lesser of his films bearable, that and he’s always so happy when you watch them together, how could you turn him down.

You needed a break from his movies though, which has resulted in a game of trivial pursuit and while you can’t prove it… you think he’s cheating, “This isn’t fun when it’s only two people playing,” you complain.

He’s leaning back on his palms and smiling cockily at you, you’re both sat facing each other with his coffee table in between, the game sat atop and looking at it, you can see just how far behind you are.

“You’re only saying that because you’re losing,” he snickers back at you.

You scowl at him, “Who knows things like…” you pick up another card and read it out, “When the first movie trailer was shown?”

He lightly rolls his eyes, “1913 and plenty of people would know that!”

“No! People don’t just know that?” You’re exasperated with him; he has to know that’s not common knowledge and it’s odd that he knows that off the top of his head.

He shrugs at you, smug smile on his face, “I guess I’m just that good.”

You squint at him, annoyed that he is apparently a trivia god, “Or just that odd.”

“I may be odd but you’re the one dying to get fucked by me,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You groan at him and feel yourself grow hot in the face, “Whatever, just pick a new card.” You flick the card you’re holding at him and he laughs as it falls flat before hitting him.

He’s incredibly happy with himself, now using your desire for him as some kind of punchline. He’s not touched you again, not since the incident on the couch. It’s not like you’ve not made your move either, you’ve tried enticing him and every time he looks so close to folding before he gathers himself and moves forward. For a man who flirts relentlessly with you, he sure does have a lot of self-control.

Your phone buzzes on the table and you pick it up to look, face immediately twisting into an expression of displeasure.

“You good?” Johnny asks.

Placing your phone down, you look to him and answer, “Mhm, yeah… it’s just work.”

He raises a brow at you, “Again?”

You hum at him because yes, again.

Work has been messaging you fairly frequently to see if you’ve gotten ‘better’, you haven’t gone back yet, you used a few of your sick days so you could get some time off after the traumatic event of your ex breaking into and trashing your apartment but management seems to be getting pissy with you, so you will have to go back soon.

Something that had surprised you was Johnny also taking a few days off work to stay with you, you think he’s apprehensive about leaving you alone, which you can’t blame him… you don’t really want to be alone. You haven’t told him that though, you would never ask him to put you above his work.

Johnny sits up, no longer leaning on his hands, “What did they say?”

“They’re just asking how I feel… if I’m better,” you hesitate slightly, “I think I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you should.” He replies quickly.

This is not the first time he’s shown upset at the prospect of you going back to work, “I have to, I still have to pay for my apartment you know.”

He looks at you sincerely, “You know I would pay for anything you need me to.”

“And you know that I’m not comfortable with that,” you retort.

He’s offered to cover the cost of everything for you multiple times now and every time he brings it up, you shoot him down.

“I just don’t love the idea of you going back there, not with your ex still…” his face turns up in disgust, “Existing.”

You chuckle slightly, “It should be fine.”

You say that but you are worried about possibly running into him too, you don’t know if he’s still lingering around your neighbourhood or not. Which, speaking of your apartment, you’re waiting to hear back from your landlord on whether or not the door has been fixed.You’re also dreading having to go back though, you’ve been putting it off for days now. You were supposed to go back for pyjamas but instead Johnny has been letting you live in his shirts.

“Just take tomorrow off, one more day,” he gives you puppy dog eyes. When you don’t immediately reply, he adds, batting his eyelashes at you, “For me?”

Your lips downturn at his stupidity, “Ugh fine, just stop looking at me like that.”

He smiles brightly at you, “Cool! We can watch more of my movies tomorrow.”

You shoot back, “Don’t you have a job?”

“Making you watch all my movies is part of my job,” he jokes.

You whinge out at him, “But I’ve already seen them all~.”

“And now you’re watching them all again~,” he mocks you, smile big and with how proud of himself he is, the weight of his pride might crush you.

“You’re lucky I think you’re cute,” you grumble.

He chuckles at you, “Is that the only reason you’re watching all my movies? Because you want to sleep with me?”

“I’m not going to say you’re completely wrong,” you tease.

He places a hand over his heart, “Do you like any of my movies?”

“Your movies, or movies you’ve starred in?” You clarify.

He’s examining you carefully, “Both.”

You don’t have to think about it, “I like your movies,” you admit, “But you have starred in some questionable ones.”

He points a finger gun at you, “Touché.”

“Are we done playing yet?” You lament, referencing the almost forgotten game of trivial pursuit.

“Are you done pretending you still have a chance at winning?” He counters.

“Never.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at your stubbornness, “What if I said I’d fuck you right now if you’d admit you’ve lost.”

Your heart stutters in your chest and if you felt like he was being serious, you would fold and tell him he’s the all-time winner of trivial pursuit but you know him and you know he’s only teasing, “I’d tell you that you’re being mean and that I’d also sooner die before admitting premature defeat.”

“That’s a real shame,” he hums.

You’re getting annoyed with him; he keeps doing this to you. Relentlessly teasing you with no follow through, not even so much as a kiss. You get up on your knees and shuffle over to him, you end up right in his lap, his hands move to your hips instinctually.

He smirks at you, “And what are you trying to accomplish right now, doll?”

“You’ve been really mean, Johnny,” you pout at him.

“How can I fix it?” he asks.

You feel timid, shy, “You can stop pretending like the other night never happened.”

He’s serious as he answers, “I’m not pretending anything; I know it happened.”

“You’ve not even…” You trail off, now worried that you read into things too much and that you’re still just friends.

“Sugar, I’ve not stopped thinking about it,” he confesses.

You hesitate but probe, “So, you still want me?”

He almost has an air of confusion about him, baffled by your doubt, “Never stopped.”

“Then why haven’t you even kissed me again?” Your brows upturn at him.

His hand moves to hold your face, his thumb stroking high on your cheekbone, “Worried I’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

You lean into his hand slightly, “Don’t want you to.”

He groans, “See, you saying stuff like that doesn’t help,”

“Can I have one kiss?” you mimic the way he bat his eyelashes at you earlier, tacking on, “Please?”

He groans at you, pained, “How could I possibly say no?”

His hand on the the side of your face tilts your head and his lips brush over yours, the small contact electrifying to you. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s kissed you and being this close to him is making you dizzy. He teases you with his proximity, holding you close but never actually kissing you. Just as you’re about to huff out in annoyance at him, he pushes his lips to yours.

The kiss is hot, his mouth insistent and full, your shock gives him the chance to stick his tongue inside your mouth, licking at you. You moan into him, your body relaxing completely, incredibly content to be placated by his lips. His hand on your hip holds you tight, his fingers digging in, attempting to ground himself.

His own moans are muffled by the kiss, you’re affecting him just as much as he thought you would. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, knowing if he keeps kissing you, he’ll lose his mind and end up making you cum for him in anyway he can think of. You whinge as he pulls back and he can’t help the incredibly smug expression on his face at the sound, forever feeling self-pleased by how needy you are for him.

He purrs at you, “Happy?”

“You could make me happier,” you retort.

He only chuckles at you in response before asking, “You gonna admit to losing trivial pursuit?”

You frown at him, “Absolutely not!”

“Then sit your ass back over on your side of the coffee table and answer your question like a good girl,” his tone is a teasing kind of firmness.

You plant a single full kiss on his lips before crawling back over to your side, Johnny’s eyes stay glued to your ass as you shuffle across the carpet. His mind immediately filling with images of his cock pile driving into you while your back is arched for him. This was supposed to be a wholesome game and now he’s thinking of fucking you into the carpet while making you answer trivia questions.

You grumble at him, “You’re so mean to me.”

“I’d feel worse about it if you didn’t seem to enjoy it so much,” he’s incredibly glib right now, completely correct about his effect on you.

“You’re wrong,” you try denying.

“Really?” he raises a brow to you, “Because I seem to remember your pretty little pussy gripping my fingers awfully tight when I was ‘mean’ to you.”

Your face heats up again, “Just pick out a card,” you mumble.

His grin is Cheshire like, “Whatever you want, sugar.” He picks up a new card, “What is the literary term for a word that describes a sound?”

You know this one and you smile brightly, “Onomatopoeia!” you point at him excitedly.

He laughs at your excitement, “You got it.”

You have a small celebratory moment to yourself before you pull out a new card, “If you know this one I’m gonna scream.”

He’s confident in his trivia abilities, “Get ready to yell, doll.”

You read from the card, “What is the year of the first recorded flight?”

“1903,” he smiles cockily, completely sure that he’s right.

And he is, you glare at him and grumble out, “You’re correct.”

“I know,” his tone is self-satisfied.

You don’t win trivial pursuit but you do take pride in not giving up, you may not be good at trivia but you’re proud of yourself for seeing it through. Some may call it stubbornness but you think it shows strength to sit there and try like hell to win even when defeat is right in front of you. You gave it your best shot and you had fun. You will get better at trivia though… he won’t be winning next time. Not that you’re competitive or anything.

✰ ✰ ✰

In the morning you’re woken up by your phone buzzing by your head, sleepily you squint at your screen and see that it’s work trying to call you again. You grumble annoyed at how persistent they are but relent and answer.

“Are you feeling better yet?” Your managers voice is sharp and his question is straight to the point. You’re a bit taken aback by how direct and grumpy he is, you don’t even get to say anything before he continues, “Listen, we’ve been swamped here, unless you’re actively dying, it would be best if you came in. Best for you I mean.”

You don’t miss his threat, your job is now on the line if you don’t go in but with how he’s being such a dick you try to negotiate, “I can come in tomorrow.”

“Today would be best,” he sighs, you don’t answer him and he grunts at you, “Fine, come in tomorrow, if you’re not in tomorrow, you’re getting cut from the roster.”

“Alright, see you–” he didn’t even let you finish your goodbye; he’s already hung up on you. Bastard.

You stare up at the ceiling, your mood for the day already completely ruined, you feel badly because you know you’re lying to work and they do need help but you’re also having a hard time bringing yourself to leave Johnny’s apartment, let alone go back to your neighbourhood. The thought of him being there sends a cold spike of anxiety through you, he did all that to your home, what is he planning to do to you? It’s a frightening thought.

You lay motionless on your mattress for a while, too anxious to go back to sleep but also too tired to get up. Clattering can be heard in the kitchen though and you’re concerned as to what Johnny is attempting to do so you haul yourself up, out of the bed and into his kitchen.

When you make your way into the main area you can see Johnny making pancakes… you think? Mostly, it just looks like he’s making a mess, “What are you doing?”

“Shit–” He jumps at the sound of your voice, dropping the spatula he was holding onto the ground, “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake so early,” he mumbles out as he bends down to retrieve it.

Your tone is amused as you ask again, “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” he sighs.

You walk over to him and see he’s made a complete mess of the kitchen; he’s used far too many bowls for what he’s made. He also seems to have made up some pancake mix two separate times before using the one he is holding now.

You come up beside him and look over what he’s doing, “Why did you make so much mix?”

“The other ones had a weird texture,” he’s focusing hard on tipping some of the mix into the pan.

You want to comment on how he could be doing things better but you’re so appreciative of his efforts and you don’t want to sound like a know it all. But you can’t help but cringe as the bowl slips a bit and gets all over his hand.

He groans out, “I dunno how you did this so effortlessly, I’m killing myself here, doll.” You’re distracted by how he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks some of the batter off, he notices and smiles at you knowingly, moving his hand in front of your face he asks, “Want a taste, sugar?”

Wordlessly, your wrap your lips around his index finger, sucking it clean. Johnny groans at the sight of it, not expecting you to be so willing, he was only joking around but now you’re gently suckling on his finger and he’s about to pass out over it.

You pull back slowly and kiss the tip of his finger when you’re done cleaning it. He’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars in the sky and you can only huff out an amused laugh at him.

“Move over,” you shoo him away, “I will make the pancakes, you can start cleaning up,” you reach out for the mixing bowl he was holding.

He hands it to you reluctantly, “I was trying to make breakfast for you.”

“And I appreciate it so much but you’re going to make a mess of yourself if you continue,” you place the bowl off to the side and flip the pancake that was still in the pan, it’s too thick and also a little extra crispy thanks to the both of you getting distracted.

He comes up behind you, his arms trapping you against the bench, he leans in over your shoulder, “Would you clean me up if I did?” His words are suggestive, far from innocent.

You turn it back on him, “Would you let me?”

His head drops to your shoulder, resting there, “I want to, doll. Bad.”

“You’re the only one stopping it,” you hum out, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore how close he is to you.

He stays close to you as you make the pancakes, his hands move from the bench to your hips, his hands hold onto you, lightly pawing at you, “Why are you up so early anyways? I thought I had more time.”

“Work called me again, woke me up,” you mutter, already knowing Johnny’s going to be pissed that they’ve rung you again.

“Was it that asshole again?” He asks, referencing your manager.

You flip a pancake over in the pan, “Yeah, they’re short staffed and need my help.”

Johnny’s arms wrap around you more, holding you to him as his head turns into your neck, “I hope you said no.”

“I did but I feel bad, I have to go in tomorrow,” you tell him.

“You do not, not if you aren’t ready to be back there,” his arms squeeze you just the tiniest bit tighter, comforting you. He knows how frightened you are to go back to that neighbourhood.

One of your hands reaches down and holds his hand for a moment, “I appreciate the sentiment but I do have to go back, he threatened my job.”

“He what?” Johnny bristles behind you, moving to stand tall, turning you around to face him, “What the hell did he say?”

“It’s nothing that bad, he just said it would be ‘best’ for me if I came in tomorrow,” you wince slightly as you repeat your managers message.

Johnny’s scowl deepens, severely pissed off with your manager, “He’s such a dick, I don’t like him.”

“Not many people do but I can also understand his frustrations at the moment, plus… I’m not even sick, so…” You feel sheepish and you turn away from him, pouring the last of the batter into the pan.

Johnny scoffs from behind you, “So what? As far as he’s concerned you are sick and it’s not like you’re taking the time off for kicks. After what you’ve been through, you deserve some time off.”

He’s making you feel emotional, you don’t like thinking about what happened too hard, it’s still too fresh. You purse your lips and focus on the pancake sizzling in the pan instead of the slight burn in your eyes from holding back tears.

He places his hand on your shoulder, “You deserve to go to work without fear.”

Now why did he go and say that? You can’t help but cry silently as you flip the pancake, you’re trying so hard to hide it, blinking away your tears as soon as they form. Johnny knows though, he knows he touched a sore spot for you but he was genuinely only trying to help.

“Oh doll,” he sighs out at you, pulling you into his arms. You turn into him and cling on, needing the comfort right now. He lets you cry into his shirt for a moment, your tears no doubt soaking into the fabric. His hands rub up and down your back, trying to soothe you.

You remember the pancake though and sniffle into his shirt, “The pancake is going to burn.”

He takes the spatula from you and flips it onto the plate, “All better,” he places the utensil back down and moves his other hand back to you, “You worry about the silliest of things.”

You laugh dryly into him, “So do you.” He holds you in his kitchen for a bit as you will yourself to stop crying, you’re worried about the pancakes getting cold, “Hot pancakes are better than cold ones.”

His hands stop moving on your back and his head tilts down to you, “Is that your way of telling me you want to eat the pancakes now?”

“I am worried about them getting cold,” your face is still pressed into his shirt, your words slightly mumbled.

He shrugs at you, “I’m not.”

You make a face that he can’t see, it’s one of displeasure, “You should be… cold pancakes are bad.”

He dismisses, “They aren’t that bad.”

You’re still teary eyed but you pull back and look at him with as serious an expression as you can muster, “Cage… don’t eat cold pancakes.”

He smiles at you, happy to see your face again. His hand cups the side of your face, “There she is, my pretty doll.”

His words make your skin grow hot and you look away, he’s smiling big though, always happy to embarrass you.

You look at the pancakes on the bench, “Let’s just eat, yeah?”

“Whatever you want, sugar,” he pulls his hand away but not before booping the tip of your nose gently.

You sigh at him but move around the kitchen getting ready to plate out breakfast, Johnny comes up to your side and stops you, “Go sit down, I’ll plate it up.”

“But–”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, you ended up making them all so go sit down,” he points over to the breakfast bar.

You want to argue with him, about how you didn’t put nearly as much effort into making them as he did. How he did the most annoying part but based on the look on his face, you wouldn’t be able to convince him to let you plate it up anyways. So, you sulk away and around the bench, perching yourself atop the stool and wait for him to give you your pancakes.

As you watch him move around the kitchen something occurs to you, “Did you tell me the wrong cabinet when I was first here just so you could see my ass?”

He stands to face you, his smile sly but his tone faux offended, “I would never do that, how dare you.”

You roll your eyes at him and his response, “You would do that.”

“Can you blame me? You’ve got one hell of an ass, sugar,” he places your plate down in front you, wiggling his eyebrows as he does.

You try to be offended but you end up feeling complimented, “Thank you,” he smiles deviously at you and you squint back at him, “for the pancakes, not your gross compliment.”

“Ah, but you took it as a compliment,” he throws a wink your way, his demeanour pleased.

You roll your eyes at him and eat your pancakes, they aren’t bad. He did an alright job with the batter… third times the charm, it was just the actual cooking part he seemed to have the most issues with. Well… that and the mess he made.

You realise he spent his time clinging to you instead of cleaning like he was supposed to, “You didn’t clean…”

“I got distracted,” he mumbles, mouth full.

Not looking at him, you reply, “You do that a lot.”

“Stop living here and it won’t be a problem anymore,” he nudges your arm with his elbow.

“Alright,” you agree easily, you’re only staying for as long as you’re welcome.

Johnny doesn’t flinch, “No.”

You turn to look at him, questioning look on your face, “No?”

He still doesn’t look to you, mindlessly eating his breakfast as he explains, “Yeah, no. Keep staying here, I don’t mind being distracted.” He turns to you and smiles, “I like it, actually.”

His smile and words fluster you; you’re still concerned about overstaying your welcome though. Turning back to your food you mutter, “If you get sick of me and need me to leave, tell me, I’ll go.”

“You are always welcome in my home, not gonna ask you to leave, doll,” he picks up his plate and walks into the kitchen, stopping behind you to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Not now or in the future, stay as long as you like…” he puts his plate in the sink, “…hell, stay forever.”

“I’m not staying forever,” you giggle, taking it as a joke.

He smiles fondly at you, “Do whatever you like, you’re always welcome here.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Waking up is hard, especially since you know you have a shift later, one you are none too keen to do. Images of your ex grabbing at you, of you punching him, the feeling of the impact, it’s all still so fresh in your mind and the idea of maybe running into him, or worse, him waiting for you, is horrifying. You might have to look for a new job but you like where you are, you like your co-workers. It’s also convenient, within walking distance from your apartment but now think that may not be such a bonus anymore, especially if you decide to move.

You’ve been considering getting a new place but your apartment is rent controlled and a decent price and it’s close to everything, moving is such a hassle but the idea of going back there and living day to day life frightens you. You’ll be constantly on edge in that apartment, you know what needs to be done but that doesn’t make it easy.

Lying in bed and thinking about this isn’t going to make it better though, you’re just stressing yourself out. You groan dramatically to the empty room as you pull yourself out of bed, your limbs feel heavy. If you had your way, you’d stay in bed a little longer but you know Johnny will be leaving for work soon and you want to see him before he goes.

You find him looking like a mess in the hallway, trying to shuffle himself out the door, his phone is balanced between his ear and shoulder, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. He smiles when he sees you, mouthing a good morning. You smile back at him and shoo his hands away from his shirt, one drops to his side and the other hold his phone properly.

There’s some kind of issue with one of the actors in his films, you could probably gather more if you weren’t distracted by his skin peeking out from under his shirt. His voice is stern on the phone, a tone you’ve only heard a handful of times, one that’s rarely, if ever, directed at you. You want him to stay home and have his way with you right now but you’re starting to gather that the begging isn’t really working as well as you want it to, that and you do actually have to go back to work today.

When you’ve buttoned his shirt you pat his chest, he mutes his side of the call and holds his phone away from his ear, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you’re fighting to keep your eyes on his and not look at his lips.

His free hand holds the side of your face, “I’ll be back late today,” he looks away from you for a second, “I’d prefer if you didn’t go in today, I might not be available if you need me.”

You roll your eyes at him lightly, “I probably won’t need you, plus my shift is only short and I need money.”

“I can give you money,” his tone is slightly exasperated, his hand moves to hold your shoulder.

“I don’t want your money,” the idea of taking money from him, while also living in his home… is uncomfortable, you don’t care if he’s offering, you are not taking his money.

He looks you over carefully, ignoring the voice coming from his phone, “You really not going to take another day?”

“Nope, I can’t… not without risking my job,” you place your hands on your hips and raise a brow at him, you told him this yesterday.

His head rolls back and he groans a bit, the hand on your shoulder shakes you slightly, “Fine, but finish early and come straight back here,” his face pulls up in disgust, “I hate that, that little rat of a man is still out and about.”

Your lips twist from holding in a laugh, your hand salutes him as you say, “Yessir.”

He squints at you before putting his phone back to his ear, unmuting himself, the person on the other end had started to yell at him through the phone, “I am coming! Geez…” He spins to leave but quickly turns around and presses a kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you later,” he rushes out the apartment after that.

You’re left shocked, staring at the door he just left out of. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed… obviously but the casualness of it has your stomach erupting in butterflies. He kissed you like it was the most natural thing, like it was a part of your routine, like you’re a couple. Your relationship with him has left you completely confused but how he doubled back just to kiss you goodbye has you smiling to yourself like an idiot all morning.

✰ ✰ ✰

The trip to work is nerve wracking, you’re worried about being back, you’re extra cautious of everyone around you, eyes scanning every face quickly, it’s not until you’re actually at work and can hide in the backroom do you feel the slightest bit better. Having people around you and being behind the counter puts you at ease, it’ll at least be harder for your ex to get at you, hopefully he doesn’t show up though.

You’re waiting the extra few minutes for your shift to start, as you sit and stare at your feet, you see another pair approach and stop in front of you. You’re scared it’s your manager but as you lift your head up to look, you realise it’s just one of your co-workers. Your shoulders drop, relaxing, knowing that you aren’t about to be scolded for you absence.

Your co-worker smiles down at you, “You’re back! Are you feeling better?”

He is so chipper compared to your general unease about everything, “Ah, hey Michael, yeah… I’m all better,” you give him a polite smile.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so well…” he leans down slightly, as if to examine you closer before moving out of your personal space, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way, you still look great! Beautiful, even… uhm, what I mean is… you just look a little run down,” his hand awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck.

“I’m alright… thanks though?” You’re a little confused and aren’t sure what the appropriate response to him would be.

Michael is a nice guy and you’ve known him for a bit now, long enough to consider him a friend but he’s horribly awkward around you sometimes and you can’t figure out why, or what the suitable way to react to him would be.

He stands in front of you, rocking on his heels slightly, hands stuffed into his pockets, “I can take most of the orders and serve if you like? So, you don’t have to talk to as many people. You can hang back and wipe tables and stuff, the work people do when there is no work,” he laughs lightly.

You protest, if it’s been as busy as your manager says then you don’t want to put it all on Michael, “You don’t have to do that!”

He waves his hand dismissively at you, “It’s not been that busy, I’m happy to do it.”

The offer he makes sounds perfect to you, normally you would protest more but the risk of having to serve your ex is high and Michael has just unknowingly given you an out, “That… would actually be great, thank you. If things get busy though I will be on top of it!”

“Don’t worry about it, take it slow and let me know if you need me to cover for you or something… like if you need an extra break,” he’s still shuffling on his feet but he’s calmed a bit, “To be honest, if you aren’t feeling well, I don’t think you should be here.”

“Tell that to big boss man,” you snark out humourlessly.

His face pulls up in a sympathetic grimace, “He call you in, huh?”

“Yeah, he said you guys have been really busy and not so subtly threatened my job if I didn’t come in,” you wear a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as you speak, sharing the bitten back annoyance you feel towards your manager.

Michael rolls his eyes, “That sure is one of his favourite moves, you know he wouldn’t have fired you though, too many of us would also leave if he fired you for being unwell.”

He’s right, most people would walk out, you know you would but you also don’t doubt your managers hubris, he probably would have fired you just to prove a point, even if it caused him to lose other employees too.

You half smile at him, “I dunno, I think he would fire me still, I also wouldn’t want people to leave here because of me, the pay is too good compared to other service jobs.” You glance to the clock behind his head and place your hands to your knees, pushing yourself up, “Oh well, time to start.”

Michael rolls his head and groans slightly, dreading the shift as much as you, “Great,” he looks to you again, “Seriously though, take it easy and let me know if you need anything.”

You smile and thank him again before the both of you clock on and walk out of the backroom.

The first half of your shift is uneventful, everything is quiet for the most part, busy your ass. Michael kept true to his offer and has been manning most of the orders while you hang back and make the odd drink or coffee, which you don’t mind, human interaction is not something you were looking forward to today and you somehow always end up with the weirdest customers.

The customers today, however, are mostly older people, you notice that there are only a few other people working, which is odd. The place is a small café/restaurant kind of gig, it’s nice but it can get busier and it can get busy quick, so you’re surprised by how slow it is today.

While you’re on your ten-minute break, your manager approaches you, “Glad to see you back.”

“It is good to be back,” you try to be as inoffensive as possible but you think your disdain for him is something that cannot be easily hidden.

He stares blankly at you for a moment, “Can you stay back today? Our closer called out.”

You remember Johnny’s words and how he had asked you to come back early, “I don’t think–”

“–It would be helpful, if you could, otherwise Michael will be alone.”

“Michael is staying back too?” You’re confused, normally you’d both be swapped out, actually, normally there would be at least another server on around this time.

Your manager looks exasperated with all this back and forth, “Yeah he’s already covering for someone else.”

Damn, Michael is such a pushover and you feel bad for him, you know you said to Johnny you would go straight back to his after your shift but you feel bad for your co-worker, that and the extra money is pretty enticing after not coming to work for a bit… plus… you still technically would be going straight back to Johnny’s, it would just be a little bit later.

You sigh out before answering, “I suppose I can stay back.”

“That’s great, thank you, take an extra ten,” he pats your shoulder and shuffles off.

You guess what he meant by “swamped” was actually “understaffed”, sounds like a lot of the servers have been calling out. Which kind of has you understanding his frustrations with you, you’re still pissed at him for handling it poorly though.

You use the extra ten-minutes to sit and zone out, staring at the bleak wall of the backroom. Distantly, you consider messaging Johnny to tell him you’ll be back later than you thought but he’s also meant to be late, so chances are, you’ll get back before him.

Before you have more time to think about it though, your break is up and you’re heading back out onto the floor. The hours tick by… so… slowly, the afternoon picks up a bit in business and you help with serving but then it dies down again not long after and you’re back to a coffee every now and again and cleaning.

The bell on the door dings as it swings open and closed, Michael greets them, their voice catches your attention and as you look at them, your blood runs cold. Your ex has just walked through the door and moved to sit at a table, Michael goes over to take his order and your heart feels like it’s about to pound out of your chest.

You aren’t sure what you should do, the cops weren’t helpful last time and you don’t want them coming to your place of work, you’re frightened and uncertain of what to do. He looks to you and you catch his gaze, he smiles at you and wiggles his fingers in greeting, you frown back at him and storm off to the backroom, giving yourself time to calm down.

Deep breaths in and out, in… and out… you focus on things around you, the feel of the wall under your palm, how your feet feel in your shoes, how your apron scrunches in your fist, your racing heart calms down, slowing to a more reasonable pace. You roll your head and crack your neck, trying to remove the stiffness in your bones, you think about Johnny, you think about how safe he makes you feel and you think about calling him. You won’t, you don’t feel like you should, he’s busy today and he said he would be unreachable… and you’re worried about what he may do, how it may upset him that you’ve agreed to stay back later.

Your energy is better spent calming down and pretending like your ex has not upset you, it’s a power move on his behalf, showing up here, he’s trying to scare you and while it is working, you are not going to let him know that, he will not be getting anything more out of you. He doesn’t deserve any sort of satisfaction, what he does deserve is another smack to the head but you will control that urge too, you really need your job.

Taking one last deep breath, you leave the room and go back to doing the odd jobs cleaning up, you continue your shift, ignoring him the whole time, you don’t even look at him, all of your focus is put into whatever you’re doing in that moment. You can feel him watching though, he stays the whole of your shift, watching you and hoping you’ll look his way, he makes your skin crawl.

Towards the end of your shift, when you’re closing up and everyone has left, Michael approaches you, “That guy from earlier, he comes in a lot lately and he’s usually fine… but today he was unsettling, he wouldn’t stop watching you,” he pauses and looks out the front window, “and I think he’s waiting outside.”

You groan, this is something you would rather not have to tell anyone about but since he’s picked up on it and you really don’t want to leave alone, you confide in Michael, “He’s my ex… and he’s been stalking me? Of sorts… it’s why I hadn’t come to work for a bit, I was worried he would come here.”

He makes a shocked face, “That’s horrific, have you told someone?”

“The cops know but they’re about as helpful as nipples on men,” you’re completely frustrated and you also don’t want to talk too in depth about this.

He chuckles at your statement, caught off guard by it, “Sorry, this is not funny but I’ve not heard someone say that before while also looking so serious.”

You also crack a smile, it was the first thing that came to your mind, it is a bit ridiculous, “It’s fine, it’s a stupid saying.”

“Definitely true though,” he adds before his expression turns more serious, sympathetic to you, “I am so sorry this has been happening to you… you don’t deserve this, can I do anything to help? Do you want me to give you a lift home?”

You appreciate his offer deeply and while maybe you would accept it if you were staying at yours, you don’t feel comfortable giving him Johnny’s address, “No, that’s okay, I’ve been staying with a friend so I’m just gonna catch a cab to their place.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to at least wait with you?” He seems a little apprehensive at leaving you on your own.

“I would like that, please,” you don’t want to wait on the side of the road by yourself, not with him right outside.

The pair of you walk outside together after double checking everything is packed away properly, Michael makes sure he’s on the side your ex is when you leave the building, not wanting him to possibly get at you. Your ex only watches, he doesn’t approach you, he just stands there, you don’t know what he’s doing but you feel like he may be waiting for you to be left alone.

You don’t speak, you don’t have anything to say, you’re trying your best to not show how unsettled by him you are, all of your focus put into keeping yourself calm. The sound of a lighter flickering is oddly loud in the quiet street, cigarette smoke lingers in the air, your ex has lit up a cigarette and the smell is making you feel sickly, though that might just be his presence altogether.

Michael places an arm around you before leaning in, “Are you okay? You sure I can’t just give you a ride?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” you smile at him and then pull out your phone, getting ready to order a cab.

A loud car is speeding up the street, the sounds make you roll your eyes, asshole, you think. It’s getting closer though, and then it’s pulling over right in front of you. The expression on your face is annoyed, pissed off, you want to curse out the asshole driving like a dick, you even go so far as opening your mouth to say something but as they get out of the car, you realise it’s Johnny, and then you’re shocked silent, your mouth closing very suddenly.

Michael is just as shocked and confused, his arm coming off you as he asks, “Holy fuck, is that Johnny Cage?”

Johnny walks straight to you, ignoring Michael, “Are you okay? Why are you still out? I told you to come back early,” his brows are set in a deep frown, eyes scanning you quickly, hands holding your face tenderly.

“I’m fine and I got asked to stay back, I was about to catch a cab–”

“–Why didn’t you call me?” His hands come off your face but one of them reaches down to your hand and grips it in his.

“You said you were going to be busy and unreachable,” you shrug, you know you could’ve sent a text or something but you didn’t want to be a nuisance, not when it seemed like his start to the day was already rocky.

“Not that unreachable,” he sighs, he looks around your surroundings properly, you think he may finally take notice of Michael who has been very patiently waiting to be acknowledged.

You try prompting an introduction, “Uhm, this is my co-worker, Michael.”

“Why the fuck is he here,” Johnny ignores your words, gaze set off to the side where your ex is, his hand grips yours a little tighter, he moves closer to you, glaring at your ex.

You don’t want there to be a scene, you want what you wanted before, you want to leave and go back to Johnny’s, you just want to feel safe again, “Johnny–”

“–How long has he been here for?” He barely glances back at you, still staring your ex down.

“Most of her shift,” Michael answers for you, it makes you cringe because you know Johnny is going to have a lot of thoughts about you not telling him.

Johnny finally acknowledges his presence, “What?”

“He’s been here all day… and then he was hanging around after close…” Michael looks to you, “Did I say something wrong?” He asks you a bit quieter.

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong,” you get Johnny may be a little on edge and severely pissed at your ex but he’s being overtly hostile towards Michael for no reason.

Johnny hums, “Get in the car, doll.”

You prompt him, “Johnny,” he looks to you and you keep talking, “Don’t do anything, I just want to leave.”

Johnny scowls, thinking on it for a moment, wanting so badly to walk those few steps over to your ex and beat the fuck out of him, he looks back to you and sees the way your eyes plead with him and he recognises you’ve probably had the worst day of work in your life, the psychological torture of having your ex watch your every move exhausting and frightening.

He concedes to you, “Fine, we’ll just leave.” He turns around to open the car door for you.

You turn to Michael and place a hand on his shoulder, “Sorry about everything and seriously, thank you for today, you made it easier being here.”

“Anytime, I hope the cops do something about your ex soon, I hate that you’re going through this,” he looks worried for you and you can’t blame him but you think Johnny does enough worrying about you for ten people.

“Have a good night,” you pat his shoulder before walking to the car.

“Hey!” He calls out to you before you sit down, “Uhm, if you need anything, text me.”

You smile at him as Johnny closes the car door, you give him a thumbs up from inside the car, you don’t think you’ll ask for his help but it’s kind of him to offer, he’s a very giving person.

Johnny takes a bit longer to get in the car, it doesn’t look like he says anything to Michael but he stares at him for a bit. When he does get inside the car, he wordlessly starts the engine and drives you both back to his. It’s tense and it feels like you’re in trouble, your leg is bouncing up and down with your nerves and he reaches over to you, placing his hand on your thigh, attempting to comfort you.

It works, slightly, you would feel better if he broke his silence and got his thoughts all out now but you know he’s going to wait until you’re both back at his apartment. His thumb rubs along your skin, soothing you, it calms you enough to sit still the rest of the drive.

Still, no words are spoken the whole way up to his apartment, nothing other than your small thank yous when he opens a door for you, mostly you trail behind him. When you reach the door he lets you in first, locking it and walking into the living room, you linger awkwardly but ultimately follow after him.

He must hear you follow because he doesn’t turn around as he asks, “What were you thinking? Your ex shows up while you’re working and not only do you not think to tell me, you also stay the whole shift and even work late?” He’s exasperated, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

You shuffle into the room more, “…We are understaffed and I didn’t want to make Michael handle that on his own, plus it’s good money… and I need the money, so I can pay for the apartment.”

He turns around to look at you, “But you didn’t tell me any of that? Just left me in the dark to come home to an empty apartment?”

Your brows knit together, starting to get frustrated with him, “You said you were going to be unreachable, of course I wanted to call you as soon as I was asked to stay back, as soon as he showed up, but I thought about your words this morning… and honestly, I thought of how you’re reacting right now!”

“So, you rely on some stranger?” His hands gesture angrily.

“Who?” you’re confused.

He grimaces, “The fucker with you tonight.”

“Michael?” He nods and you make a perplexed face back at him, “He’s not a stranger? He’s my co-worker and I have known him for a bit now,” you hesitate before adding quietly, “He’s a friend.”

Johnny crosses his arms and raises a brow at you, “A friend, like how I’m a friend?”

“What–”

He cuts you off, not even letting you ask your question, “–Like how you’re begging me to fuck you any chance you get, kind of friend?”

You’re deeply frustrated with him, you don’t like his tone, or attitude, “What are you attempting to imply right now?”

“Nothing, I’m not implying anything,” he glowers at you, nothing secret about how he’s feeling right now, everything he feels is on his face.

He’s cutting you deep, your feelings run deeper for him than just physically and he has to know that by now, “I feel like you’re being incredibly unfair, I like you a lot and I want you in more than just one way.” You wrap your arms around yourself, pulling back from him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking at you, still angry for no good reason. You turn around and leave him there, if you stay here looking at him while he does nothing but glare at you, you’ll cry.

You’ve just told him how you feel, you were honest and he doesn’t give you the same courtesy, not just now but ever, he’s not told you how he honestly feels and you can only put up with that for so long. You’re not a dog with a bone but he makes you feel like one, saying sweet nothings to you but not actually saying what he means or how he feels.

You head back to the guest room and flop onto the bed, allowing yourself a moment to sob, you’ve had such a shitty day and you wanted more than anything to come back here and tell Johnny about it, to be held by him while he told you everything is going to be okay. Now, you’re not only just upset about your workday, you’re also pissed at Johnny for how he just treated you.

From in your back pocket, your phone vibrates.

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t really know how you’ve ended up here… well, you do, some of the girls from your college course invited you to a party and you were pretty keen to jump at the idea of escaping all your thoughts for the evening, you have tomorrow off so what’s the harm? Is what you had thought. You ended up sneaking out of Johnny’s apartment and ubering to the address you were given, from there it’s all a bit more hazy, you’ve been drinking a lot. Not typically something you do but you think after the day you’ve had, you earned it.

You do remember you left a note for Johnny to find, telling him you were fine and would be back late, you initially weren’t going to leave him anything but you thought that would be unkind, plus, it would only serve to worry him. Which, you genuinely don’t want him to stress about you so much, you are perfectly capable of caring for yourself, you’ve done it this long.

The night started out fun, drinking and dancing with these girls, but now you’re past drunk and they are nowhere to be seen. The people around you are getting handsy too, now that you’re alone on the dancefloor you’re an easier target. All the people in your personal space is starting to get to you and you end up pushing through the crowd of people to try and find some familiar faces.

It feels like you search the whole house twice but you can’t seem to find any of them, which is odd, you don’t know where they went or why they haven’t so much as messaged you about where they are. If you weren’t so far gone, you might worry about them more but the world is starting to spin a bit and you find yourself walking out the front and sitting on the stairs, you’re alone out here, well, alone besides the few people passed out on the lawn but you don’t think you’re going to count them.

The fresh air will hopefully help you feel better, you pull out your phone to order an uber and see a bunch of missed calls and texts from Johnny. You go to swipe the notification away but accidentally press it and your phone starts calling him back. Your attempts to hang up before he answers fail, especially since he picks up so quickly, the line barely ringing twice.

Johnny sounds pleased and pissed off to hear from you, “Thank god! Where the hell are you?”

“It said in mm note, at friends party,” your words are coming out slurred even though you’re trying to sound sober.

You can almost feel his glare through the phone, “Your note was stupid, why did you leave without telling me?”

You counter, “Would you have let me leave?” He doesn’t say anything, the other end of the phone in complete silence, “Exactly, plus mm still mad at you,” you state.

His tone is scrutinising, “Are you drunk?”

You ask him stupidly, “Are you?”

“What? Obviously not?” He sighs into the phone, irritated by you, “Just tell me you’re safe at least.”

“Mmmm, I think so? I dunno… actually can you come get me? I dunno where mm friends are and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you lean your head to your shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.

He sounds relieved, “Yes, I can come get you, send me the address.”

You like listening to him talk, “You have a nice voice, sometimes when you talk it gives me butterflies in my tummy…” your words are lazy and you trail off.

Johnny urges you, “Hey, focus, tell me where you are, doll.”

“At a friend’s house… hmm hold on,” you think he may still be talking but you’ve pulled your phone away from your ear to text him the address, you hold the phone to your ear again, “Did ya get that?”

“Yeah I did, I’ll be there soon okay, hang tight.”

“Mm not moving, too comfy,” your head rests back to your shoulder, your eyes slow blinking with how tired you’re getting.

Your eyes slip closed and you switch between hearing all the things around you and hearing nothing at all, your head is somehow swimming with every thought you’ve ever had and not a single thing. You rub at your eyes, trying to stay awake and present but you lose the fight and they slip closed again.

You aren’t sure how much time passes but it feels like no time at all has gone by when Johnny shakes you awake, him standing in front of you so soon feels like a hallucination, he leans down to you and your hand reaches up and pokes his chest.

He makes a confused face at you, “What was that for?”

“Jus checking you’re real,” you murmur out.

“Jesus, sugar,” he shakes his head at you, “Come on, let’s get you home,” he reaches down to you.

“Mmkay,” you take his hand and he pulls you up, you fall into him slightly.

He walks you back to his car carefully, worried about your balance the whole time, his hands stay on you, assisting your steps.

“I’m glad you called,” he says.

You mutter back at him, “Didn’t mean to, fingers are stupid.”

He huffs at you lightly, “Okay, well…I’m glad you asked me to come get you.”

You’re hesitant, “Thank you… for coming,” your lips are downturned, still pissed off at him but grateful all the same.

He opens his car door for you, the second time today and you get inside, “I’ve said it before… but I’ll always come… when you call.” He leans over to buckle you in, when he pulls back his fingers hold your chin, “You just have to call me.”

You’re still pouting and you look away from him, he makes you weak and you’re not ready to forgive him, especially when he’s not apologised, “Can we jus leave?”

He sighs softly to himself, “Yeah… let’s leave.”

He gets you both back to his in one piece, you felt a bit dizzy in the car but you’re feeling sturdier by the time you’re back in his apartment. He leads you into the kitchen and gets you a glass of water, he makes you drink it all in front of him.

You watch him as he takes the glass from you and puts it in the dishwasher, you feel tempted to tell him, “Mm still mad at you.”

He holds onto the edge of the bench, “I know.”

“You really hurt me,” you add.

“I know,” he repeats.

His unwillingness to look at you or give you a better answer has you tearing up, “Are you even sorry?”

He still won’t turn your way, the sink more interesting apparently, “We can talk more tomorrow, it’s late and you’re drunk.”

“I’ve never been more sober in my life,” you argue.

“I somehow doubt that,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes at him, you’ve had enough, “Whatever, thanks again… for picking me up,” you leave the kitchen after that, not willing to stay and let him ignore you more.

You just want to collapse into bed and pretend like everything is fine, you want to pretend you’re back to a couple days ago, when you and Johnny were playing trivial pursuit. You want to think of how kind he was to you yesterday, when you cried in his kitchen while making pancakes and you’re not going to think about how he implied you were interested in sleeping with all your friends and minimised your feelings for him.

Talking to him again is not something you’re looking forward to, not if tonight is anything to go by, he takes up such a large place in your heart and to be treated like this by him feels… shattering. He’s always been so kind to you and to be spoken to like this, it’s devastating, you want to understand but you also want him to leave you alone for a bit, you’re not certain you’re ready to listen to whatever he has to say.

In your very slowly sobering state, you manage to get yourself into the shower and fresh pyjamas, having to do this tomorrow while hungover is going to be hell so your sober-self better be grateful to drunk you because this is far too much effort when you’d rather be curled up in bed crying over a stupid boy.

✰ ✰ ✰

Banging sounds in the kitchen jolt you awake, your head pounding from the hangover you’re currently sporting. The clanging not helping your current state at all, your eyes squint against the minimal light seeping into the room. The furrow set in your brow not helping the pain in your head, you must look incredibly angry right now… and remembering yesterday… yeah, you are incredibly angry right now.

Groaning you flop onto your side and notice that Johnny must’ve come in earlier because there’s some ibuprofen and water sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. You hate how thoughtful he’s being after saying some pretty thoughtless things, he’s not being fair to you at all. Just to get your ducks in a row, he implied you wanted to sleep with your friends, devalued your feelings for him, gave you the silent treatment, got upset that you left the house, wouldn’t talk to you last night, and then again disregarded you all while knowing he had hurt your feelings… yeah, you’re pissed.

Talking right now, or today, might be a bad idea, you’re not in the best headspace, whatever reason he has may not be enough for you. Ignoring the ache in your bones and head, you get up and pack away your bags, stuffing everything in haphazardly, staying here… might not be best for either of you. Being in a home with someone who is upset at you but not willing to speak about it… makes you uncomfortable, you were already worried about overstaying your welcome when things were good… now it feels almost unbearable.

You are thankful to drunk you for getting clean last night, it’ll make leaving easier, you change out of your pyjamas and crack open the door to scope out the area, double checking he’s not in the way. He doesn’t seem to be in the main areas, you think you may be able to leave without him noticing. Grabbing your bag, you quietly shuffle to the front door, it feels ridiculous, like you’re attempting to pull off some great heist, it’s not lost on you how stupid you’re being but you’re hurt, mad, and hungover, you get to be a little stupid.

“What are you doing?” Johnny’s voice makes you jump in place, you hadn’t even heard him approach you.

Slowly, you spin to face him, “…Nothing?”

His eyes look you over before focusing on the bag you’re holding, “Really? Because it looks like you’re trying to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Well, I just thought… after yesterday… it may be better if I leave… quietly,” your head is too sore to be standing here talking about this right now.

He frowns at you, his hands on his hips, annoyed by your choice, “Better for who? I don’t want you to leave and I never said that I did.”

“You haven’t said anything actually,” you point out, you don’t even know why he cares if you stay, he’s the one who started the ‘argument’ or whatever this is.

He sidesteps your statement, instead asking, “Where are you gonna go?”

You roll your head and look away, “Back to mine… probably.”

“While your ex is out there… actively stalking you?” His tone is dubious.

He’s annoying you with his logic, “I don’t know, Johnny, all I know is that you’re not talking to me and I don’t feel welcome here.” You’re starting to tear up and you curse yourself for it, “I was already hesitant to stay here and now you don’t look at me and when you do, you look so… angry and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you so much.”

He’s quiet and it seems like he’s not going to say anything… again. You sigh and turn to the front door, choosing to leave anyways but Johnny grabs your wrist, stopping you, “Don’t leave… please.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the light hurting your head, You turn back to him, waiting for him to continue talking; he lets go of your wrist when he’s certain you’re not going to walk away.

He adds, “I’m not upset at you–”

“–It feels like you are.” You interrupt.

He’s beginning to get exasperated, “I’m angry with myself, I’m pissed off and I took it out on you, and I’m annoyed that I did, I want to talk to you about this, I want to explain.”

“Explain then! I’ve given you chances to explain and all you do is stand there silently, I want to be able to forgive you,” you sigh at him again, “You’ve fucked up, if you were anyone else… I would’ve walked away already but I want you to give me the chance to forgive you.”

“I got pissed when I saw you with that– with Michael, it wasn’t rational but it made me realise… people your age are interested in you, there are people out there that are better for you… I– I had already known that… I just didn’t expect…” He’s getting pissed again, you can tell by the way he crosses his arms and his mouth pulls down into a scowl, “I didn’t expect the anger I would feel at seeing you with someone else, I didn’t… the idea of you being with someone else, of someone else touching you how I have, it makes me physically sick.”

You take a deep breath, “So… because you got jealous… you implied I wanted to sleep with my friends and ignored me when I told you I liked you?”

He looks like he wants to touch you, his fingers thrumming against his bicep, fidgeting, “I wasn’t thinking properly, I’m so sorry, doll.”

Your shoulders drop, your bag slipping, “I don’t know… how to react to this–”

He cuts you off to add, “–I like you too, a lot.”

His words make your heart skip a beat but you hold steady, “You can’t say that and expect me to just forgive you.”

He moves closer to you, “I know, that’s not why I said it.”

“I’m not forgiving you.”

“That’s okay,” he hums, “Can I touch you?”

This man does not play fair, “I–”

He touches you anyways, his hand holds the side of your face before he pulls you to him, hugging you tightly, “I am really sorry… I don’t feel good enough for you, you deserve better, you deserve more but I can’t help but feel incredibly selfish because the idea of someone else having you… it literally drives me crazy, doll.”

Being held by him, regretfully, has you feeling so much better, your bag properly drops from your shoulder, and you hug him back, missing his warmth. “You were mean.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

“I’d had such a bad day and all I wanted was to tell you about it,” your eyes start welling with tears.

He repeats, “I’m sorry.”

“I missed you,” you sniffle out.

His head leans down to you, nosing at your cheek, “I missed you, too.” You move to pull back, but his hands hold you still, one of them grasping your face, his lips brush against yours before he pulls back himself to say, “You know, I was also seriously concerned for your safety, I came home and you still weren’t back and I had no messages from you, nothing letting me know you were okay.”

You suppose, you can apologise for that much, “And for that, I am sorry.”

“I forgive you… this time.” He jokes, taking it lightly.

You look at him carefully, considering everything, “Johnny, I need to know what we’re doing.”

He’s confused by your sudden question, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are we more than friends?” You need clarity, after having none for so long, you just need to know what the hell you’re doing.

His brows furrow and he pretends to think really hard, “Considering I’ve made you cum multiple times and stuck my tongue in your mouth… I’d consider you more than a friend.”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, pushing him back by his shoulder, it barely moves him, his hands instead grabbing your face and pulling you to him. He takes your lips in his own, his kiss full and passionate, it takes you by surprise and you make a small sound reminiscent of a whine.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Do you wanna be my girl?”

“Ugh, corny,” you complain but you hate how badly you want that.

He chuckles lightly, pressing kisses to your lips again, “I want you to be.”

You’re not fully paying attention, temporarily distracted by his kisses, “Mmm... Sorry, what?”

He simplifies, “Mine, I want you to be mine.”

You agree easily, “Okay.”

A smile spreads across his lips and then he moves to press kisses all over your face, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Somewhat,” you answer cryptically, mostly because you’re annoyed by how easily he fixed everything.

“I’ll take it,” he breathes out a laugh.

You wince involuntarily, your head still pounding, your body reminding you of your adventures last night and the consequences that come along with them, “I need to lay back down.”

Johnny’s tone is worried, his hands hold onto your shoulders, putting some distance between you both to look you over, “Are you okay?”

You deadpan back, “Yeah… you’re just exhausting.”

“Not nice,” he complains.

You smile cheekily at him, “I’m kidding… mostly,” he forces a smile back at you and you laugh lightly, “I’m hungover… I just wanna lay back down and die."

"Bit dramatic don’t you think?” He asks.

You glare at him, “Says you.”

He raises his hands in a placating manner, “Completely correct, let’s get you back in bed hmm?”

The rest of your day is spent recuperating in bed, you’re in and out of sleep, sometimes only ever up long enough to eat or drink something. Johnny brings you… way too many snacks but he insisted on you eating, it was nice and also so much for your pounding head, you ended up asking him to leave you alone to rot for the day, which he reluctantly did. You think he’s still concerned you’ve not forgiven him and if you’re telling yourself the truth, while you really want to forgive him, it’s not that easy and your heart sits heavy, the ache he caused not forgotten.

You’re going to try really hard to move forward though because you can understand, while he didn’t go about it well… at all, he’s struggling with his feelings for you and you can understand that much. It also wouldn’t have helped that tension would’ve been high for him, with you out later than expected, no messages, only to find you and see you with a stranger, while your ex lurks in the background… hmmm, maybe Johnny held it together better than you’re giving him credit for.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s late in the evening when you wake up properly, your heart racing as you sit up suddenly, you can’t quite remember what your dream was of but you remember it was not pleasant. Anxiety crawls up your spine and you think it may have had something to do with your ex, the unease that sits in the pit of your stomach reminds you of the way you felt while at work. You hug yourself, rocking back and forth for a moment, trying to calm down… it’s not helping.

Crawling out of bed, you head the few doors down to get to Johnny’s room, wanting to seek comfort from him. You knock lightly, trying to see if he’s awake, it’s late though so you doubt he’d still be up. You consider entering his room and waking him up anyways but you aren’t sure he’s been sleeping well lately so you turn around and head for the lounge room instead.

You grab the remote off the coffee table before flopping onto the couch, laying on your side, completely stretched out, you aren’t going to be able to sleep anymore so you might as well find something to watch and get comfortable. There isn’t much on at this time of night though, nothing good anyways.

Somehow, you find yourself heavily invested in the channel that only sells things, all advertisements for stuff that nobody feasibly needs or would use more than once but for some reason, you are completely involved in what the man is waffling on about. Why yes, you definitely do need a little bear named ‘Tiddy Bear’ for your seatbelt so it’s less annoying… you don’t own a car.

You’ve somehow become so absorbed in the crap commercials that you jump slightly when Johnny leans over you from behind the couch, “Holy– Don’t do that,” you gasp.

His voice is deep with sleep, “Sorry sweetness… but what the fuck are you watching?”

You state simply, “Tiddy bear,” and then point at the television.

Johnny sleepily looks where you’re pointing, squinting against the bright light, “…Right,” you can practically see the thought enter his head as soon as he thinks it, “You know… I could always be you–”

You groan at him, “–Shuddup!”

He laughs as he looks down at you, “You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“I’m fairly certain I did,” you raise a brow at him.

He wears a lazy smile as he rounds the couch, he taps your legs and you tuck them up so he can sit beside you. Once he’s seated, he pulls your legs into his lap so you’re stretched out again. His hands absentmindedly massage your calves, he watches the advertisement with you for a bit, a new one playing, something called the wearable towel, it looks like a dress… but towel material.

Johnny frowns at the infomercial, confused, “Seriously, doll, what the fuck are we watching?”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching some tv and somehow got really into the infomercials,” you shrug.

He puts all his attention on you, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

You shrug again, “It was nothing, just a bad dream.”

You don’t look at him, still watching the lady talk about how annoying traditional towels are, Johnny squeezes your calf so you look at him, “Could’ve woken me up, if you wanted to talk about it.”

You hum at him, “I didn’t want to disturb you, I did knock… on your door, to see if you were awake.”

“Hell, sugar, next time just crawl into bed next to me, I really wouldn’t mind,” he smiles at you and then asks, “What was it about?” He keeps massaging your calves, fingers digging into the muscle, it’s nice.

“I don’t remember… but it was… scary,” you feel embarrassed to admit that, you’re a grown adult, it seems silly to be frightened by a dream.

He considers you for a moment, not really sure on what to say, “Yeah, sometimes it’s like that.”

“I just felt dumb, having a bad dream, it feels childish,” you sigh, frustrated with yourself.

“The feeling was real though, it’s not childish, I’ve had nightmares before.” He rests his head back on the couch, “You’ve had the most stressful time lately… I’m honestly surprised you’ve not had more nightmares.”

You watch him, he’s looking up at the ceiling, “I was scared,” you admit.

“That’s normal–”

“–No, not tonight, I mean at work, when he came in and stayed my whole shift,” Johnny looks to you, his attention focused solely on what you’re about to say, “I was scared but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of effecting me… so I ignored him and I thought about coming back to you, I thought of how,” you take a breath and look away from him, “I thought of how safe you make me feel.”

He sounds emotional, “I make you feel safe?”

You look back to him, feeling bashful, “Johnny, you feel more like home to me than any place ever has…” You’re nervous, feeling open and vulnerable, but you add, “Yes, you feel safe, you feel like home.”

It feels like he looks at you for too long, his eyes looking over you, full of so many emotions that you can’t read. When he does speak, all he says is, “Move over.”

“What?”

“Move over, I’m getting in beside you,” he starts shuffling to lay down next to you on the couch.

You laugh, “Johnny, there is not enough room.”

“Yeah there is, lemme in,” he continues to lay down.

You roll your eyes but shuffle back as much as you can on the couch, your body close to slipping off the furniture entirely. He lays down on his side next to you, his arm coming around you, tugging you close and supporting you so you don’t fall off.

You look up at him, “Why are we doing this?”

He huffs at you, “I wanted to cuddle with you.”

He looks sleepy right now, it’s endearing, “Why so suddenly though?”

“You said something cute and it made me happy,” he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath against you makes your skin prick, “I’m glad I make you feel safe… and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, having him at your place of work… I should’ve been there.”

“I don’t blame you for that, I didn’t tell you,” you reach up and comb your fingers through his hair, “I– I wanted to call you but I worry so much… I worry about how much I burden you.”

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, it sends a shiver down your spine; he pulls back to look at you properly, his arm holding you as close as he can, “You aren’t a burden to me,” he holds intense eye contact with you, trying to show you how serious he is with one look.

“I just don’t want to worry you with silly things,” you tuck your head into his chest.

He vibrates with a hum, “Well, for starters, being scared of your freaky ex who is stalking you… is decidedly not silly, secondly, I’d much rather you tell me about the silly things, I want you to tell me everything that worries you, I want to help… can’t do that if you don’t confide in me, sweetness.”

“I’ll talk to you more… but you have to promise to do the same, you keep so many things to yourself and I want to support you, however I can,” you mumble into his shirt.

His tone is light as he agrees, “Deal, now can I make out with you, or is this an inappropriate time to ask?”

You scoff at him but pull back and press a gentle kiss to his lips, he groans as you move back too soon, “All you get,” you snicker.

“Not kind at all,” He complains.

You give him another quick kiss, “Funny though.”

“So funny,” he repeats humourlessly, scowl on his face.

You laugh at him and his hand moves up your body to the back of your head, his mouth crashing onto yours, the sudden contact takes you by surprise. You sigh against him and he licks into your mouth, his kiss deep. Your leg moves to hook around his waist, pulling your lower half closer to his, he groans into the kiss, his hand moves from the back of your head, down your front and under your shirt. He gropes at your chest, fingers pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

He moves his head down to your chest, pulling your shirt up and enveloping your nipple in the warmth of his mouth. His tongue flicks at you and you push towards him, soft sighs slip past your lips, your mind hazy. He bites at you lightly, his forehead resting against your sternum, he presses his face between your tits and sucks a hickey into the skin between them, his hand back to pawing at you.

He sighs against you, and then your world is spinning, he’s sitting up and taking you with him, you end up straddling him. His hands trail your body, tugging your shirt up and off your head, you lift your arms to help him. He leans forward and begins to leave more hickeys on you, marking your chest completely, your fingers thread through his hair, pleasured sighs leaving you.

He mumbles into your skin, “Take your pants off.”

You pull him back by his hair, “Excuse me?”

“Please?” He smiles at you. You look at him sceptically but he only continues to smile at you, “I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

You concede and hop off his lap, pulling your pants off, you go to sit back on him but he tuts at you, “What?” You ask.

“Panties. Off.” His eyes are looking directly at your underwear, waiting for them to be gone.

You sway side to side, feeling timid but you comply and slip the garment down your legs, Johnny smiles brightly as you do as he asked. He makes grabby hands at you and you move closer to him, he grabs you and positions you over one of his thighs.

You’re a little confused, “What are you doi–”

“–Want you to ride my thigh, doll,” his hands encourage you to straddle his thigh properly.

“Johnny… that’s embarrassing,” you pout at him slightly.

“What happened to my eager little thing hmmm?” He grips your hips and starts dragging you back and forth on the material of his pants, “Promise it’ll feel good.”

You twitch on him slightly, it feels depraved to rut into his thigh while he watches but you start grinding down onto him lightly, your movements still uncertain. Johnny’s hands help facilitate your movements, wanting to see you do it yourself but also wanting control of the situation. Your cunt begins leaking onto him, the material of his sleep pants darkening under you, shudders run down your back and muffled whimpers get caught in your throat.

Your hands reach up to his shoulders, holding onto him to ground yourself, your fingers digging into his skin. His eyes watch how your pussy grinds into his thigh, smile still present on his face, absorbed in how you’re getting his leg all slick, the grey of his sweats now a dark grey. The friction the material of his pants give you is driving you insane, your need clawing up your spine, Johnny can tell you’re getting needier, based on how your eyes get glassy and your hips rut down into him more freely.

“There ya fuckin go, thas a good girl,” he comments.

His hands push you into his thigh firmer, the sudden change has you moaning out to him. You fall forward and tuck into his neck, your whimpers are breathed against him and he grunts at how wet you’re making his pants, at the little noises you’re making against him. You’re doing a lot of the work yourself at the moment, in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed at how you hump down onto him, at how damp you’re getting everything but Johnny seems so fucking pleased about it all.

You twitch into him and moan at the friction on your clit, the sound spurs him on, his hands grip your hips tightly and he moves you back and forth on his thigh quickly, your slick making the slide obscenely easy. Johnny’s own eyes are glassy, dizzy from how much you’re leaking on him, he moves one hand to pull your head back to look at him, he’s in awe of the fucked out look on your face.

“Mmm you always make the prettiest faces for me,” he compliments before taking your lips in his.

The kiss is messy, his lips demanding and desperate, his tongue in your mouth searching, consuming. He swallows down all the sounds you make for him, his own sounds shared in the kiss, when you part for a moment, strings of your saliva connect your mouths together. The evidence of how depraved in manner he kisses you sets you on fire, a whimper pulled from your chest. He smiles lazily at you, his thumb rubs over your lips, spreading your shared spit over them.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you take it, sucking on it gently, his eyes look wild as he watches you, “Need you to cum on my thigh, sugar.”

Your eyebrows pull up at him, your cunt clenching on nothing, your fingers dig into him as you continue to rock back and forth on him. Your stomach tensing, he pulls his thumb from your mouth and runs it down your chin, sternum, torso, all the way down to your clit, his thumb rubs circles into you, it makes you twitch against him. Johnny closes his eyes and seemingly remembers his goal very suddenly because he grabs you tightly again and starts forcefully dragging you back and forth, his leg bouncing, adding to the stimulation.

You gasp out to him, “Hah– Johnny~”

“Jus take it like this, cum like this, want it all over my leg, doll, want it stained into my fuckin pants.” His eyes are honed in on your cunt again, involved in how you’re dripping on him, how easy you slide on him.

Your voice pitches higher, “Johnny– I– mmph–”

He encourages you, already knowing, “Go on, soak my thigh, sweetness.”

You gasp and shudder against him, your hips desperately grinding down into him, your high so close. Johnny’s intense, greedy gaze on you is what undoes you, you twitch on him as you cum, pathetic whimpers sound from you as you rut down into his leg, he supports you as you finish, helping you ride out your high, feeding you praises about how well you did and how cute you look.

Once you’ve come down though, he keeps moving you into him, enjoying the way your body jolts in sensitivity at the action. You slump forward into him, small whines leaving your lips as he overstimulates you. He turns his face into your neck and lightly bites you, your cunt clamps down onto nothing, the pain shoots straight to your drenched pussy, a sad little moan slipping from you.

Johnny’s hands rub up and down your back, soothing you, “How you think you’re ever gonna be able to take my dick when you get fucked out this easily is beyond me.”

“I could take it,” you argue.

You can feel his smile against your skin, “I’m not so sure.” He pulls your face back so he can see you properly, “Yeah… I’ve missed that.”

You’re kind of hazy, mind making static noise, “Missed what?”

His smile turns devilish, “That cute little fucked out look you get on your face when I make you cum, a sight for sore eyes, doll.” You don’t get to say anything back, he picks you up and carries you with him back to his room, “Bet you’ll sleep fuckin fantastic now.”

You giggle against him because yeah, this might’ve done the trick.

✰ ✰ ✰

When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in Johnny’s bed, you lay still for a few more moments, enjoying the warmth of his large bed. You assume he’s gone to work; he’s probably messaged you but your phone is in the guest room and you don’t really feel like moving right now. You feel warm and safe wrapped up in his sheets, sleeping next to him was the best you had slept in weeks and you think he’s going to have to put up with you being in his bed more often now.

Eventually, after a few more moments of tossing around in his bed, you get up and wander down the hall to grab your phone. You were right, he had texted you saying where he was, he had to head in early and didn’t want to wake you. He should be back at a normal time though so you’re happy for that, it gets lonely in his big apartment.

You also have a message from your manager, telling you that you’ve got a few more days off… which is, surprising to say the least. Michael might have had something to do with that, which is kind but you need to figure out a long-term plan, on if you want to stay or go. Ideally, your ex would leave you alone, or the cops would arrest him for trashing your apartment but seeing as how they’re not all that useful, you don’t really know what to do.

At least now you have a few more days to consider your options, you were not looking forward to your afternoon shift. You’ll have to thank Michael next time you’re on with him, you don’t know what he said but you’re trusting that he didn’t divulge anything too personal, you didn’t even want to tell him about your ex, it was just unavoidable.

The day is uneventful for the most part, you clean the kitchen and guest room, you also make Johnny’s bed, you’re still a guest, it’s only polite that you clean up after yourself. There isn’t much else for you to do though, so you’re back on the couch, scrolling your socials and watching something inane as background noise. It shouldn’t be too much longer until Johnny gets back, you’re hoping anyways, you’re bored and want to talk to him regarding what you should do about your ex.

Speaking of… a text from that awful little man comes through, you forgot you hadn’t blocked him, you click on the notification and read it. Obviously, it’s all senseless anger, mostly name calling, not at all pleasant to read but after having him trash your home, this is not as scary as it would’ve been a while ago. You consider blocking him but then you think, this may help you actually.

He continues blowing up your phone on and off all afternoon, you end up silencing his messages so you can use your phone without being yelled at through the screen. It shouldn’t be but some of the messages are hilariously laughable, the fact you were with him for a whole year and he was like this? It’s almost inconceivable to you, how could you miss so much of his problem behaviour and why has he gotten so stuck on you.

One of his messages in particular sticks with you, ‘I deserved better.’ It makes you scoff, what a jackass. The rest aren’t as funny, they’re threatening and abusive and if you spent all your time reading them it would probably induce a panic attack.

Brushing it off, you put your phone down and involve yourself in the show you had put on hours ago, whatever his problem is, is not your fault and you shouldn’t bend over backwards trying to understand the motivations of someone so clearly mentally unstable. It’s not your fault, it’s something you have to repeat to yourself, so you don’t forget… because it’s not your fault and you won’t let him make you think that it is.

The front door rattles as Johnny unlocks it and walks into the apartment, you call out to him, “Welcome back!”

His shoes clack against the floors as he walks to where you are, “Hey, doll,” he pats the top of your head from behind the couch.

You bend your neck to look back at him, “How was your day?”

“…Annoying but thankfully shorter than some others,” he smiles at you, “How was your day?”

“Good, uneventful for the most part… well except…” You trail off as you watch him.

He steps over the back of the couch, it’s quite the show how his footing wobbles a bit on the plush cushions, you give him a quizzical look as he sits beside you, “What? Couldn’t be bothered to walk round.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you say, “You would’ve expended more effort climbing the couch than walking around it.”

He brushes you off, “Yeah whatever, just tell me about your day, what were you gonna say?”

Were you going to say something, “Hmm?”

“Uneventful day, except…?” He prompts.

You begin, “Ah, yeah, my ex started blowing up my phone, harassing me today–”

Johnny’s face twists into a disgusted scowl, “–You’ve not blocked him?”

You squint at him, silently admonishing him for interrupting you before you could finish, “Well, I had honestly forgotten to, he hadn’t even reached out until now but I think it may be helpful, in getting a restraining order on him, that way I can go to work and if he shows up the cops will actually have to do something about it.”

He considers your words for a moment, “Hmm, not a bad idea, want my help with that?”

“Please,” you smile sweetly at him.

He pinches your cheek and tugs lightly, “Of course, though…” he lets go of your cheek and you rub at it, “…I would prefer he were dead.”

You can’t help but laugh at the abruptness of his statement, “Right, well… I guess you’ll just have to settle for this.”

“Whatever makes life easier for you, doll,” he opens his arms for you to hug into his side, which you do.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, you sigh against him, “I really just want him to leave me alone, so I can forget about him and move on, I don’t want to confront him, I don’t want to fight him, I just want to be left alone.”

“I understand that, we’ll make it happen,” he kisses the top of your head and you believe him.

You cuddle on the couch for a bit, enjoying his comfort but then your phone rings, checking the screen you see it’s a friend from college, “I should take this,” you tell Johnny.

He nods at you easily and lets you get up.

Taking your phone, you walk off to the guest room to get some privacy, “Hey! It’s been a while, what’s up?”

Her voice is chirpy through the phone, “It has been and nothing much, I just wanted to see if you were free to come round mine tomorrow? I need help with an assignment for that one class… with that one professor…”

You can practically feel how her eyes glaze over, you’ve already taken the class and catch on immediately, “Yeah I’m more than happy to help, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be… I’m still surprised I passed.”

She laughs from the other end, “But you did and at this rate, I’m closer to running away and living by the seaside on an isolated island than I am to passing this course.”

“Well then, I can be around tomorrow? Like, maybe midday? Can’t have you moving away, you’re like the only college friend I have… that I like.”

“Sounds good and I feel exactly the same about you,” you both share another giggle but she trails off, “…Have you been okay?”

You’re a bit confused by her sudden question, “Yeah I’ve been all good, why?”

She seems hesitant, like she’s not sure how to word what she wants to say, “Well… I’ve been hearing some… things… about you and it’s got me a little confused.”

You frown, “What kind of things?”

She sighs, “People in our circle have been saying you were cheating on your ex and that you’re broken up?”

“I mean we are broken up… but I did not cheat on him, I ended things with him for different reasons but if anyone cheated in that relationship, it was definitely him,” your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose, you have a feeling you already know who’s spreading the rumours.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it but it’s really odd… that people are saying that, I always thought he was a little… freaky, so I got worried hearing about the rumours.”

You huff quietly, mostly to yourself, “Thanks for asking though… and not just assuming,”

“I like to think I know you well enough to discern what rumours are and aren’t true,” she lightly chuckles and it makes you smile.

Scratching the back of your neck, you ask, “A lot has happened but I can tell you about it all tomorrow?”

“I’d like that, you know I’m always here for you right?”

“I know,” you smile lopsidedly, you think you may need to get better at confiding in others.

You both share your goodbyes and hang up, you’re glad she reached out to you, honestly, if she wasn’t campus living and you didn’t have Johnny, you probably would have stayed with her, she’s one of the closest friends you have. It’ll be nice, telling a friend about everything.

Distantly you wonder how long the rumours have been running around and if this may be why you got ditched by those girls at the party and still haven’t heard from them, even after messaging them asking if they were okay.

This is such a frustrating position to be in but you think, if anyone believes the rumours without even asking you about them then they aren’t people you really want to be friends with anyways, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though. The only thing you’re really worried about is if Johnny is included in the rumours, you don’t want to ruin his career, or hurt his image, at the moment the rumour doesn’t seem to mention him but you don’t know how long it will stay like that.

You waddle through the apartment and stand in front of Johnny, “There are rumours about me circling,” you pout.

“What?” He’s confused and you don’t blame him.

You slump onto the couch, your shoulder bumping into his, “Saying I cheated on my ex and that’s why we are broken up.”

He grunts, “What a load of bullshit,” his arm comes around you, pulling you close, “Are you okay?”

Sighing, you say, “Yeah, I mean, if people believe it that’s not my fault, I’m just so exhausted, it feels like it’s one awful thing after another at the moment.”

He turns to you and kisses the side of your head, “Would you feel better if I fucked you?”

Your voice feels small, “Yes.”

“That’s too bad,” he smiles against you.

You pout at him, “Don’t kick me when I’m down.”

He chuckles, “How about I cook you dinner instead?”

You smile at him, “That would be nice too, I guess.”

“Could you help?” He’s worried about it not being edible.

You let out an airy laugh, “Sure.”

✰ ✰ ✰

When you had told Johnny you were going out today to see a friend, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, he has today off and he was hoping to spend it with you. He wasn’t about to stop you though, you need to see your friends, he’s glad to see you’re willing to talk to someone else about this. Sometimes, he worries that if he hadn’t heard your ex over the phone that first time, you wouldn’t have told him anything and that’s a scary thought to him.

He's left in the apartment alone and he’s bored, you’ve not even been gone long and he feels like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. Maybe he should feel a little pathetic about it but he’s pretty happy about where is, he’s scared… about the future but he’s also looking forward to his relationship with you. All he has to do is keep himself busy until you get back and he’s golden.

Some of your clothes are piled in his room, ever since he took you to bed with him a couple nights ago, you’ve been sleeping in here with him instead. Not that he minds, in fact, he’s got the opposite of complaints, the fact that you’re staying close to him and confiding in him, it makes him ridiculously happy.

The bag filled with your clothes sits on the floor in the corner, you’ve been here for a while now and you still won’t unpack, that bothers him. He won’t unpack for you, that’s invasive and will also probably upset you but he will pick up the clothes you left on the floor this morning, he’s just going to take them down the hall so they can get cleaned with his but as he picks them up, your panties slip from the pile.

He feels so ridiculously ashamed of how incredibly quickly his dick chubs up at seeing just your underwear, they’re cute… and now he’s thinking of you in them and nothing but. He rolls his shoulders and looks up to the ceiling, trying to ignore the growing ache in his cock but now all he can think about is you and how wet and needy you get for him.

Shamefully, he drops everything onto the ground and picks up your panties, his mind running wild. He feels like a fucking creep how he shoves them into his face and inhales deeply, his mouth salivating, he wishes you were home, he wants to fuck you with his tongue, it feels heavy in his mouth as his need grows.

His other hand slides down his body and undoes his belt before unbuttoning his slacks, he shoves his hand into his pants and groans as he grabs himself over his underwear. Your scent overwhelms his senses and he can’t hold off, he tugs his boxers and pants down, only enough so his cock is free, he’s desperate now, his dick twitching in need.

If he weren’t so stupefied by his thoughts of you, he’d probably recognise this as the creepy behaviour it is but right now he doesn’t care, he didn’t get to cum the other night after making you finish on his thigh and he’s been hesitant to try anything since but he’s so wound up it’s insane. After you had fallen asleep next to him that night, he’d pitifully moaned when he squeezed the base of his cock, just to get some kind of relief.

He's honestly not sure how long he’ll be able to hold off on fucking you, he wants it to be special for you, he wants it to be memorable, he doesn’t want to be just some guy you give your virginity to and regret… but in saying that… the need that claws at his insides every time he makes your pretty, cunt cum for him, is getting harder to control.

His hand not holding your panties grips onto the dresser for balance, his other hand reaches down to his cock, his tip leaks precum into your underwear, they’re soft as he moves them with his fist up and down his shaft. He sighs pathetically at the feeling of jerking off into your panties, his mind reeling with what it would be like to taste you, he wants to cum inside you and then lick you clean. His head falls back and he groans at the thought, his muscles twitch as he thinks of how pathetically you’d whine for him, your complacency with all the filthy things he does to you always makes his head spin.

With the amount he’s leaking into your panties, the glide is easy and his hand speeds up, a gasped grunt escaping him. He’s already on the edge of cumming just from thinking about tongue fucking you, he talks big game about you not being able to take him but he’s concerned that as soon as he sinks balls deep in you, he’s going to cum.

His chin falls to his chest and he watches how he fucks into your panties, his eyes are glazed over and his hand moves faster, he needs to cum, he knows it won’t satisfy him, not how he wants but if he doesn’t see your underwear coated in his cum, he thinks he may die. He thinks of you watching him cum into your panties, how embarrassed and turned on you’d be, it drives him wild and his cock jerks as he shoots his load into the fabric of your underwear. He groans deeply, his hips spasming, thrusting forward to ride out the euphoria.

He sighs, temporarily satisfied but his thoughts are still plagued by complete filth, he wants to make your pussy a complete mess for him. He wipes up his cum with your panties and tugs his pants back up, he’s going to need to calm down, he can wait for you to get home.

✰ ✰ ✰

The uber back to Johnny’s is boring, you’d had a good time with your friend though, you both pulled your hair out over the assignment and over your ex… but it was good, talking to someone. She was supportive and kind and she’s offered to sneak you into campus living with her if you need, which made you giggle. You told her about your plans to hopefully get a restraining order though, so you think you should be fine to go home soon.

It turns out, those girls… the ones you were at the party with, they’re apparently helping feed the flames of the rumour going around about you. At least you weren’t all that close to them, they just gave you a reason to go out and get drunk for a night. Whatever, you don’t want to put any more energy into all this, you’re going to go back to Johnny’s, you’re going to hang out with him and you’re going to trust that the court will let you get a restraining order against your ex.

When you get back to Johnny’s, it’s eerily quiet, you were expecting him to be watching a movie or listening to music… anything but it’s silent in the apartment and it’s freaking you out a little bit. Walking further into the main living area, you place your bag down and continue to wander around, looking for him.

You call out for him, “Johnny?”

He stumbles out of his room pretty quickly at the sound of your voice, “You’re back! How was it? Did you have fun?”

You squint at him a bit, his mannerisms odd, “…Yeah, it was good, I’ve missed her so it was nice… catching up.”

He fidgets in front of you a bit, like he’s antsy, like this is all a formality and he doesn’t really care, “That’s good! I’m glad you met up with her, I’ve been worried about you a bit lately…” His eyes roam over you, his fingers tapping against his skin.

“…Johnny?” He hums at you in reply and you ask, “Are you okay? You seem… on edge.”

His eyes flick back to yours, “Yeah, doll, I’m groovy, easy going,” he gives you a big cartoonish smile, it’s a little strained.

Frowning, you walk closer to examine him and he intakes a small, sharp breath, “Are you sure? Because you’re really twitchy right now.”

“Did anything else happen? Do you want to talk?” He’s clearly changing the subject.

You decide to let him, “No? I’m fine, we talked, I helped her with her assignment, nothing special,” you shrug at him.

“Okay, good,” is all he says in response. Just as you’re about to ask him what he means by that, his hands are on you, pulling you close, his mouth hovering right over yours, “I missed you, sweetness… bad.”

Your voice shakes slightly, the proximity getting to you, making your skin all hot, “I’ve not been gone lo– mmph–”

He cuts you off, his lips on yours are demanding, his kiss searing, like he’s been waiting his whole life to kiss you like this. You reach up and grab a hold of his shirt, hands fisting the fabric, trying to ground yourself. His hands are on you… everywhere, they grope and pull at the skin of your hips, at the fabric of your shirt, even palming your breasts, his touch is heated and needy, it’s making you dizzy. A small, whimpered moan leaves you involuntarily and he takes the chance to lick into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

With how he’s kissing you and how he’s touching you, your faculties are eluding you, your mind foggy. You’re the one to pull back first, needing air. Resting your forehead against his chest, you catch your breath and attempt to think straight again. Which is, surprisingly difficult, your eyes feel wet, everything about you feels malleable right now, he could probably say the stupidest thing on Earth and you’d still be weak in the knees with hearts in your eyes.

You lightly giggle against him, “Feeling needy?”

He grunts at you, “Doll, you got no fuckin clue.”

You think you may have some clue, “Bold statement coming from the man who still won’t fuck me even after I have asked so nicely, so many times.”

He rolls his eyes at you, only a little bit amused, you’re waiting for his smartass reply when he suddenly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking back to his room with you.

“Wow, talk about desperate,” you joke.

“Keep talking, sweetness, enjoy the upper hand while you can still talk coherently,” he drops you onto his mattress, his form standing over you from the foot of the bed.

You know he’s right, and yet, the need to challenge him like he doesn’t render you speechless from a kiss hits you anyways, “Cocky, much?”

“Could say the same thing to you, at least mine isn’t false confidence,” he winks at you and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

You lean on your elbows and watch him intently, his skin slowly being revealed to you, he’s being a tease on purpose. Summoning your courage, you tug your pants down your legs and toss them off the bed, not stopping, you tug your shirt off completely too, your bra following not long after. Johnny stops what he’s doing, his shirt fully undone but still on.

Smiling up at him, you ask, “Something wrong, sugar?”

He rolls his head back, a sigh coming from him, “Feeling mean today?” He asks, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders.

“Only a little bit,” you’re honestly a little bit shocked with yourself, you feel nervous and exposed.

He climbs onto the mattress and you shuffle back as he moves up, his form large over yours, he leans down and places a hot kiss on your lips, “Gonna stick my tongue in your pretty pussy, babe.”

Somehow, the crudeness of his words always shock you, “Okay.”

His smile at your reply is wolfish, giving you one last kiss before he’s moving back down the bed and pushing his face into your panties. You squeak and jump at the feeling, he only hums against you, seemingly pleased at your reaction.

“Wanted to put my mouth on you all day,” he mumbles against your core.

You can only gasp in reply, his mouth opening and latching onto your cunt over your underwear, his tongue wetting the fabric, his nose rubbing into your clit. His hands hold you open and you fall flat onto the bed, not able to hold yourself up. When he detaches it’s only to pull your panties down your legs and off, his eyes are wild and he stumbles over his movements in his rush.

He's right back in between your legs as soon as he can be, his mouth not wasting anytime in how he immediately licks at you, fucking his tongue into your hole. A hand reaches down and threads through his hair, you give it a light tug and he moans against you. Your back arches for him, hips moving against his face slightly, your body moving on its own accord.

Johnny’s own hips covertly rut into the bed below, his senses overtaken by you, how you smell and taste, it’s making him dizzy, he’s been looking forward to this all day. He’s practically drooling into your cunt, his skin on fire, how you writhe and twitch on the mattress isn’t helping. Knowing he’s making you a needy, whimpering mess is making his cock ache even worse than it did this morning.

You’re gasping and whining for him and he moans into your pussy, his hips humping into the mattress in a more obvious manner as his desperation grows. His hands push on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs up and giving himself more access to your gooey cunt. He’s eating you like he might die if he doesn’t, like you’re his only salvation and you’re already so close to cumming for him because of it.

The grip you have on his hair tightens and he borderline whimpers into you, his movements not ceasing, if anything they pick up, his tongue moving quicker. Your stomach twitches and pulls, your orgasm fast approaching, Johnny can tell, he knows by how slick you get, how pitched your whines get.

You want to tell him, “Johnny, mmm–”

He grunts into your cunt, already aware and actively trying to have you finishing on his tongue, he wants it all. He wants you to cum directly into his mouth, he wants to drink it all down and then he wants to shove his tongue in your mouth and make you suck on it, tasting yourself through him. His cock twitches in his pants, his mind moving a million miles a minute, shamefully, he’s close to cumming in his pants.

Suddenly, he shakes his head against you, his nose moving over your clit, the stimulation shocks your orgasm from you, stumbled syllables vaguely reminiscent of Johnny’s name tumble from your lips, sounds that he relishes in, his hips stutter against the mattress as your cum floods his senses. The way your pussy spasms and creams on his tongue undoing him completely, his cum no doubt staining the front of his slacks, shivers running down his spine.

The orgasm he gives you and how taken by surprise you were, renders you wordless and thoughtless, only the sounds of the blood pumping in your ears can be heard, everything else is like white noise. You huff and shake slightly, the buzz in your veins delicious, he was right, about rendering you completely speechless, you knew he would be.

He licks at your pussy a bit longer, until you’re jerking away from him, too sensitive, you close your legs, knees touching, giving yourself some reprieve. Johnny pulls up and off the bed, once he’s standing, he yanks his pants off. You don’t miss the way his slacks and boxers are damp with his cum, he’s made a complete mess of himself.

You feel shy, “You came from that?” You’re completely shocked that he’s managed to finish just from humping the mattress and tongue fucking you.

“Got such a pretty little pussy, I’d cum from watching you play with yourself,” he plays it off easily, not an ounce of shame in his bones at the moment, only a large grin plastered on his face.

The embarrassment his words cause you is immense; your face feels warm and you can’t tell if it’s from your orgasm or what he’s just said. He crawls back on the bed, his cock already hardening again, apparently… he’s not done. His cock is shiny and slick from his own cum, his tip red and already leaking again, it’s making your head spin.

Your voice feels small, you feel small, “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“No.” His answer is dead on, no room for argument, as per usual when it comes to this topic.

“Then what–”

“–Gonna play with you how I like,” he strokes his cock as he looks down at you, “Open your legs, sugar.” You pout slightly, and he rolls his eyes at you, “Come on, sweetness, I’ll make you feel oh so good. Promise.”

You scowl at him lightly but open your legs for him, one of his hands moves to hold you open further. “You said you would fuck me,” you complain.

“I said maybe,” he counters.

He doesn’t wait for you to continue arguing with him, already moving his tip through your folds, he skates against your wet pussy and it has him shivering. He leans down over you, the length of his fat cock resting against your cunt, he holds himself up over you by his forearms. His hips begin slowly grinding down into you, everything is so slick and wet, your skin slipping against each other. He plants a kiss on your lips, his tongue entering your mouth straight away, wanting you to taste yourself. You moan into him, soft sighs also leaving you.

When he pulls back, you try again, “I want you, please.”

He groans, his hips stuttering, “You have me right now.”

“Want you inside me,” you nearly sob.

“Fuck– Not today,” his voice is hoarse.

“Always– mmph– always feel so empty,” your eyes are wet and glassy as you look at him, not so silently pleading, “Ngh– Wan you to fill me, please, Johnny.”

“Fucking– no, hnng– why– god– why do you want your first time to be now? Of all times?” He huffs against your skin, his cock painfully erect, throbbing and leaky for you.

“Don’t care mmph– don’t care when or where, just who,” a tear slips down your cheek, your need practically tearing you apart at the seams.

Johnny nearly whimpers, his cock jerking against you, his tip sliding over your clit makes your skin itch, the desire to be fucked full of him overwhelming you. It’s cruel, it feels heinously cruel how deprived of him you are, is it so much to ask to be so full of him you’re sobbing? You don’t think so, your breath stutters as he continues rocking back and forth between your folds.

“I care when and how,” he bites back, nearly snarling at you.

You share your frustration with him, loose lipped in your pleasure and need, “I jus wan –ngh– you to fuck me blind, I can’t, I need it– mmph– Johnny please!”

He actually does whimper this time, “Fuck– doll, you can’t– don’t do this to me,” he’s in such a weak state today, his desperation for you driving him insane.

The way you’re begging for him to stuff you full of his dick, is going to kill him, he already wants so badly to feel your tight, wet cunt wrapped around him but he wants to do it right. Your begging is chipping away at his resolve, his mind filling with images of how he’d stretch you out on his cock, how your eyes would roll back in your head as he fucks you just right.

His cock is making an absolute mess of you both, your lower halves completely coated in slick and cum, his head ducks down to look between the two of you. The underside of his cock glazed with your cum nearly sends him into a frenzy, he moans at the sight, forehead falling to rest on your sternum.

You hook your legs up on either side of his hips and he chokes at the change, his thrusts speeding up, one of his hands reaches down and digs into the fat of your thigh, nail biting into the skin. You gasp and whine, your mind slipping from you, you want to beg him more, you want to plead with him to have mercy but you’re not sure you can find the words anymore.

You sob over and over, begging him, “Please, please, please, please–”

He looks back at you, eyes sharp, “You’ll take what I fuckin give you or I’ll never touch you again,” he cautions, his tone harsh.

“Johnny~” you whimper, eyes large and dazed.

He tuts at you, his tone mocking, “Poor thing, not being satisfied sexually?”

You could almost cry, his words feel so mean.

He glares at you, “Know what I did while you were gone, sugar?”

You shake your head at him, a gasp leaving you as his cock head catches on your clit.

“Got me so fuckin– so needy,” he ridicules your usage of the word from earlier, “that I got hard at the sight of your panties on my bedroom floor.”

A strained and small noise leaves you, not at all expecting him to admit to something like that. His hand holds onto the side of your face and tilts you up to look at him, he’s looking down his nose at you and it really shouldn’t arouse you as much as it does. His hips don’t stop, never stopping, he couldn’t, not even to punish you, it’d be hell for him too. He needs this, it’s as close as he’s going to get to fucking you and he’d have to be put in the fucking ground before he’d remove himself from you, he needs you to cum on his cock like this.

“Wanna know what I did with them?” He asks suddenly.

You’re distant but not gone and you nod in response, curious.

He smiles evilly and leans down to whisper into your ear, “I fucked them, tugged on my cock until I came in them. Only thinking about your cunt and how fucking divine you taste, how badly I wanted to stick my tongue in you,” He licks the shell of your ear, “I think– ngh– that you’re getting off easy.”

“Johnny,” you whine at him, the only thing he’s succeeded in doing is making your hornier for him.

“One day. One day I will fuck you open on my cock but today and right now, you’re gonna fuckin behave and cum like this,” it’s a promise, one he intends to keep.

A shiver runs down your spine at how low and authoritative his tone is, a pathetic moan leaving you, one that Johnny doesn’t miss, not if his smile is anything to go by. He doubles his efforts into sliding his cock through your folds, his hips moving quicker, more weight put behind them, it makes you whine and wriggle under him. The hand he had on your face moves back to your hip and grips you tight, forcing you to stay still for him.

He's moving desperately, wanting so badly for you to cum like this, he wants to fuck his whole cock into you but is too damn stubborn to do it now, he doesn’t want your first time to be like this. His abs clench and twitch, his own end fast approaching him, his head leans down to your neck and remembers the other night, he pays extra attention to how close you’re getting, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he continues thrusting against you.

Your pussy is throbbing for him, you’re so unbelievable close and it has you seeing stars, Johnny can tell you’re right on the edge and just as you’re about to cum, he bites into the junction between your neck and shoulder, harder than the other night. Your cunt jumps at the shock of pain and you moan pitifully loud, tears that had been sitting in your water line slip down your cheeks as you spasm and cum for Johnny. He groans at the sounds you’re making for him, at the way your cunt gushes with your orgasm, making an absolute mess of yourself and his dick.

He holds off to let you ride out your high and then he’s pulling back onto his knees, jerking his cock while watching the way your pussy clenches on nothing, he whimpers and wishes he was fucking you full. In just this moment, he wishes he were a worse man but he settles for this, he fists his cock, and just as he’s about to cum he notches his tip at your entrance, not pushing in at all, just resting it there, his cum entering you as much as it can from this position.

You wriggle your hips at him, pushing down slightly, his hand immediately shoots out to push you down, knowing you’d absolutely attempt to take him all, even if it hurt. He can’t help how aroused that thought alone makes him, you’re willing to hurt yourself to take him all and it tugs at something ugly and primal inside him.

After he’s dumped his load on and partially in you, he pulls back, watching the way his cum has coated you. His finger moves to collect it and he begins pushing it inside you, his finger stretching you open as he stuffs you full of his cum.

The grip you have on him is making him lose his mind, “God, you’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

You can’t offer much else but blabbered words, nothing you say very coherent, not for lack of trying though.

Johnny only chuckles, amused by how stupid you are right now, he’s not able to control himself and he begins opening you up on both of his fingers, fucking you with them. His cum making it easy, his only aim was to fuck it into you but now he wants you cumming again, the sounds you make when you cum, they’re something he hopes he never forgets. He’s playing with you, his fingers leaving to spread his cum around some more before re-entering and pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being.

You’re whimpering at him, trying to tell him you’re sensitive, that it’s too much, that you’re going to cry but he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care and based by how pleased he looks when you begin sobbing for him, you’d safely assume it’s the latter.

He smiles brilliantly at you, “You’re such a pretty doll.”

It’s too much, “I can’t– ngh–”

“–Hmmm? What was that?” He’s taunting you; he knows what you were going to say.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, another orgasm already fast approaching you, sadly you think it’s significantly spurned on by how cruel he’s being to you. Your body shakes, your legs try to close but he holds them open easily, his eyes intently watching how you take his fingers.

“Sucking me right back in, got such a needy pussy, I swear,” his fingers move quicker, stroking into one spot that has you gasping out a shocked moan, “Making such a fuckin mess, sweetness, can you hear how fuckin messy you are, hmm?”

You can, the obscene noises of your shamefully wet cunt fill the room and you still find it in yourself to be embarrassed, even when reduced to a sobbing, whimpering, state. Your arm moves to cover your face and Johnny tuts at you, disapproving of the action.

He directs you, “Wanna see your pretty face, doll, keep looking right. at. me.”

Forcing yourself, you look at him, your eyes barely able to stay open, everything you see is blurry anyways. Johnny moves his thumb to circle your clit, you’re sensitive and it makes you jump, your instinct to move away, not that you get very far. He is insistent, his hand never slowing and his thumb never moving, the added stimulation has your stomach doing somersaults.

Your cunt clenches down on his fingers and Johnny groans at you, “Atta girl, there you fuckin go,” his voice is soft, encouraging.

Your orgasm wracks over your body, mind hazy and nowhere within reach, everything you moan out isn’t even close to sounding like words, the only coherent thing being Johnny’s name. Your back arches and he pins you back down again, his fingers and thumb still moving, aiding in your orgasm. It’s becoming too much but you can’t even move away from him, only able to take the overstimulation until he’s satisfied. Everything is… dark and you can’t hear a damn thing.

He does eventually show you mercy, removing his fingers from your pussy, he taps your clit a few times just to watch how you jump and spasm at the contact though, and then he really does pull back. His eyes stay on your cunt though, watching you for a moment before his gaze wanders all over your body, taking in how blissed and fucked out you look.

Wistfully, he murmurs, “I’m gonna shove my cock so deep inside you, you’ll feel me in your stomach.”

“Johnny–”

“–Not now but one day,” he laughs airily, leaning down to kiss you tenderly on the lips.

He gets off the bed and pulls on some pants, leaving to grab a cloth and water, you lay on his mattress completely gone, not a single thought in your head. When he comes back, he cleans you up and makes you drink the water.

“You make me drink a lot of water,” you mumble around the rim of the glass.

He’s watching you, completely charmed by you even though you’re a naked mess drinking water in his bed, “Need you to stay hydrated, don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Keep making me cum like that and I just might,” you pass him the almost empty glass and he places it on the nightstand. He hands you one of his t-shirts and you put it on, appreciating the cover.

“So… you’re into biting, huh?” He’s teasing you, his grin large.

You pout at him, “Don’t be mean… panty thief.”

“Oh, how you wound me, sugar,” his hands dramatically clasp at his chest over his heart. You roll your eyes at him and he instead asks, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“I am not moving,” you say, stretching your achy muscles out.

He offers, “What if I carry you?”

“…I could be amicable to that.”

“Yeah, I fuckin bet,” he chuckles but carries you to the lounge anyways.

The movie you end up watching is one of his, which should be a shock to no one, it’s not like you’re entirely conscious of the plot though, you’re still off in the clouds. Something Johnny admonishes you for, “Pay attention!”

You argue back, “I’m tired, plus I’ve seen this one before!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he jokes.

“I could say the same to you,” you sigh, snuggling into his side, he wraps his arm around you and holds you close.

This is the most peaceful you have felt in a while, you feel safe and cared for and you think, you could stay like this forever.

✰ ✰ ✰

Thank you for reading it all !!!!! I know it was quite a lot to get through >v< Let me know your thoughts/feelings and reach out if you have questions !!! ily and have a beautiful day/night <33

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x reader smut #johnny cage smut #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage x you #mk1 smut #mk smut

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