#Foolish sleeping with his ass up

[pixelcubito]

It was always interesting that Richas was the only egg that didn't have a designated adoption space. Tallulah had her attic and Pomme her little wall room but Richas seemed to come out of Dapper's space in the adoption center. There's still so much to discover and I'm here for all of it ÑAM ÑAM more egg lore please.

[svtskneecaps]

honestly foolish's character walking the slightly meta line of "oo this'll be fun content" makes him feel like that marvel immortal character who is only immortal as long as he doesn't get bored (and was played by jeff goldblum in the movies). like idk why but the more i see of foolish's rp the more solidified the comparison gets in my mind.

like it's kinda cool for a headcanon ngl and also it means i'm not really surprised pikachu-ing when, say, he flips a coin to decide whether to rat out his son-in-law, or climbs into an incubator of corruption crystals, or doesn't ENTIRELY kick owen out of the kingdom. it's not that he doesn't CARE, but..... well, wouldn't it be interesting? don't you want to know what would happen?

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!?

Warnings- This has a LOT going on, heed the warnings - filming porn, oral (f receiving) spit kink, creampie, cum swallowing, multiple rounds, biting, back shots, SO MUCH jealousy especially from Satoru, honestly this situation is toxic be warned, say hi to Nanami and maybe kiss him? Obsessed whipped ass Gojo, he's becoming a little yandere, this chap is ANGSTY asf, mutual pining, idiots clearly in love but stupid asf, MESSY WC this chap- 13.8k (Monster chap my god)

A/N- Taglist closed- Happy Mother's day to me and all the moms have some smut and angst lol - please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Three - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Five>>>

Chapter Four

How could you get it off your mind?

Sitting at your desk in a lull at work, your fingertips trail down the side of your neck, lashes fluttering as you remember Satoru planting firm kisses across it, the memory itself makes your tummy clench with hot desire, goosebumps rising as your fingers dance along it. Remembering his teeth sinking in as he shoved his thick cock so deep, burying it inside you.

Remembering how he cleaned you up, kissing your breasts where he’d sucked and bitten like little apologies, his boyish smile as he whispered his little ‘sorry’ murmurs along your skin. The thorough way he’d lavished your body in his shower that night, how he washed and conditioned your hair, rinsing it until it was as silky as your hair has ever been with whatever fancy products he had.

He’d made sure you had breakfast, taken you down the elevator and made sure you got in the car okay - fuck he called and texted later that night just to check on you. There was no mistaking Satoru was perfect when it came to fucking, but also above and beyond with the aftercare, but that made it all even worse for you.

Cumming with him was intoxicating, it was fucking insane, but moreso the sweetness of him, the thoughtfulness, that’s what sunk deep into your veins, in an unmistakable rhythm just whispering over and over in your mind. The days without him have only shoved the reality further down your throat - that you think you’re falling in love with him.

Are you just foolish?

You’re always led by these deep fucking feelings, you don’t think before you plunge or follow them, either. Yet, there was no other explanation for it, for what you feel when you’re under him, from what you feel when he kisses you, far beyond your cunt drooling - god, it squirted - down his cock, or his mouth, or his fingers. Far beyond being appreciative of his aftercare.

It was all too much.

So much, you’ve turned down coming back over for days, as you’re still so fucking disoriented and confused, you can’t separate sex like Satoru does, like Jenna does. You wish you had the ability, to let go and have fun - and not full of a fucking inner turmoil while your cervix is being kissed by the prettiest pink tip. You wish you could take it for what it is, and not crave more.

Selfish, maybe you were selfish?

Foolish and selfish for carrying on knowing better.

You hadn’t texted him back yet today, you don’t know how to be casual in your messages, not when you remember his arms around you in your sleep, not when you crave their warmth. You have a life and a career to focus on, you can’t let him consume all your waking thoughts, fantasies of him wanting more, of him asking you to be with him flitting like day dreams. 

“Miss…” Your attention is drawn as a colleague says your name, knocking on your open door then. “A potential client is here, are you available?”

“Oh, yes. Sure!” You shake yourself out of it, smiling and then faltering as you see him, right in your office, and the secretary walks off, whispering about the handsome, tall white haired man to her friend, earning giggles as Satoru stands there, drop dead fucking gorgeous in front of you.

“No greeting, kinda rude pookie.” He says with a little playful smile, stepping further inside your office now, as you try to gather any of your wits.

“Satoru? What are you doing here?” You ask softly, curious how he knows exactly where you work, aside from maybe seeing it on your socials.

Satoru Gojo is standing right in front of your desk with a grin on his face, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, white dress shirt unbuttoned just two little rows, revealing some of his well muscled chest, where that necklace he always wears lays flat. He’s got on black, round shades, blue eyes glinting as the floor to ceiling window shines light in your office, filtering around his frame.

The man looks unfairly good.

“Well, sweets, I really need a good OF banner and some promo pictures all done for me, thought I’d come here. Support your hustle, since you support mine.” He smirks a bit as he speaks, sauntering closer, hands now resting on either side of your desk, the veins popping out of his forearms and drawing your attention. “You’re the best at it, aren’t you?”

“Oh I doubt all that, but I can definitely help you.” You stand up now too, and Satoru sees your cute little work outfit, a pretty blouse he’d like to rip off you, a pencil skirt that he’s aching to see from the back, and a little belt to cinch it. Your glasses match your blouse today, he has to wonder how many pairs you have, these have this cute little cat eye shape to them.

You bend over in front of him, giving his eyes just the view he was dying for, before pulling one of the gray office chairs over next to you, patting it with a soft smile at him. “I get to see it in action?”

“You do, come on.” He sits next to you, arms resting casually, while you cross one leg over the other and start typing away on your keyboard, clicking that mouse and pulling up your program, trying to ignore how good he smells, his cologne so familiar and intoxicating, filling your little office then.

“Look at you, so professional. So cute.” He teases softly, a hand brushing against your bare thigh then, making you clench them together and shift, biting on that lower lip at the sensations.

It’s been a few days since you were under him, but the thoughts wrack through your fucking mind every night before bed, several times throughout the day, cunt responding right along with your nipples pressing against your bra. Just one brush of his fingers and you come undone, you can’t stand how deeply little things affect you from him.

You have to focus.

“What all were you thinking?” You murmur softly, he hums to himself a bit, looking at his phone now, still not removing his hand, burning your skin casually while he scrolls, leaning back in the seat.

“You did the one for Jenna, right?” You nod, and he pulls it up, it’s all brightly lit with a neon glow, Jenna’s in the sexiest little outfit, little kisses covering around her body. “It’s really cute.”

“Thanks, I loved doing that one. So we will need a somewhat safe photo, they do have banner guidelines.”

“Yeah, I think I have some, help me pick?” You nod, leaning close as he scrolls, your shoulders brushing together, he can feel your heat even mid thigh, thumb running in tantalizing little circles as he scrolls through his photos.

You blush furiously at some of them, some are his cock, covered in cum, some are of him fully nude, others he’s precariously got something barely covering his cock. “You have a lot of photos, Satoru.”

“Part of the job I guess.” You sigh, as he keeps scrolling, pulling up a couple photos where he’s laying on the bed.

“Those are really good, email a couple to me?” You hand him the business card with your personal email, he types it in, removing his hand and allowing you a breath, as you pull up your email on one of your monitors, you catch Nanami talking to one of your coworkers and eyeing you with a smile, which you return with a wave.

Satoru glares at you as you do, he’s showing you him half naked and you wanna wave your cute little fingers at the boring business guy? Who is smirking at you again, and boy does Satoru wanna wipe that smirk off his face. He clears his throat then, earning your attention finally, you look at him curiously, blinking a bit, letting your hand fall.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, and he goes to just say it - he wants all your attention, just like he can’t help but give you all of his - but that’s fucking nuts.

You’re friends.

You’re his friend, a friend he wants to bend over this desk right now and fuck your insides up, have your pussy only know his shape and no one else’s. A friend who he jerks off too rather than focus on his career, who he has to picture to do anything, a friend he just had his cock deep inside the other day. A friend he wanted to bust inside and fill up till she couldn’t walk.

Maybe if he filled you with cum now, you wouldn’t giggle and smile at the blond dude giving Satoru a fucking side eye across your office, maybe you’d be so fucked out you wouldn’t give him the time of day. He throbs behind his boxers thinking of it, of cum drooling from your pretty little hole, all while you blink at him curiously, so fucking innocent and not knowing how you’re killing him.

“Satoru, you good?” You tease, as his jaw clenches, a thin blue vein popping out under his thin pale skin.

“Great, sweets, sorry. Want any of these?” He scrolls through the rest slowly, until you see pictures of Satoru with women, making you tense as he casually moves through. “They’re from a while ago,” he murmurs, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, seeing videos unplayed of certain shoots he’s done. “I usually post clips for the paid members and then charge them for the full vid.”

“Right, no that makes sense.” You look away now, the sight of Satoru with someone makes you far too uncomfortable, and it shouldn’t. “Um, these in the email will do great.”

“Yeah?” He looks at you, feeling how tense you are next to him. “I’m sorry, did that make you… uncomfortable?”

“What!? No way. It’s so cool with me.” You smile brightly, but it doesn’t hit your eyes, even behind the glass where he can see his own reflection. “You know I’m still a little um… shy about that stuff. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” He repeats softly, and you give a quick nod.

“I’ll get more used to it helping you out, plus Suguru’s um… I think she’s his friend or co-star? She asked me to do a shoot and a design too.”

“Oh shit, look at you.” You smile again, relaxing a little. “You’re just diving into the industry.”

“I wouldn’t say all that,” you start expanding the photo on the computer, flustered at just how sexy he was, shirtless and glistening with sweat, vivid images smacking you of the other night. “I guess I am getting a little involved, though.”

“Yeah you are, oh, we made more money by the way.” He transfers it to your app then, and your eyes widen.

“That much!?”

He leans close, too fucking close, lips right against your ear, which are pounding with the rate your pulse is racing. “I told you, that pretty body is made for porn.”

You tremble just a bit, trying to focus, pulling away and taking a breath - you are at work. You can’t just be soaking wet next to a pornstar you have stupid feelings for, who’s eyeing you like you’re already naked, the way only he can ever. You try to gather yourself, clearing your throat and swiping away the screen, to think you made more in ten minutes with Satoru than a month at your job was ridiculous.

“I see why you enjoy the perks I guess of your business.” You say softly, still remembering those girls on his phone and hating how you feel. “Any shoots coming up for you?”

His jaw tenses once more, eyes bright as they study you. “You wanna do another shoot?”

“What!? No… I mean, no. I just meant… with someone else.” You stare at the screen, clacking away on your mouse as you start to add colors and overlays to the pretty banner.

“I got my manager to calm down a bit finally, so none currently, but… of course I will have shoots coming up eventually.” You hate how the thoughts rush, and he eyes you carefully. “Why do you ask?”

“Just making conversation while I do this.” You’re lying, through your fucking teeth, but you don’t want to fuck it up, being around him, being near him, with your feelings.

Your whole life is that - feeling so much, too much, for friends, family, strangers even. You were prone to donate even when you were broke because someone got your feelings, some people took advantage over the years of that kindness, but you never could guard yourself properly, not when it was a core part of who you were. Not when there was no other option for you but to care, and care deeply.

Does Satoru Gojo care?

Were you just a co-star to him now? A co-star and a friend?

What did you expect from this?

Too much.

“You’re very quiet, sweetheart, what’s on that smart mind of yours?” You look back over, his hand is back on your knee, he’s tilting his head just a bit, a heartbreakingly handsome face watching you.

“Sorry just a lot of thoughts in my head today, also I am a pretty quiet person at work especially,” you put a hand on his, squeezing gently and earning a quirk of his pouty lips. “With you I’m a little more open than usual.”

“I like that, you opening for me,” his murmur is too fucking seductive, and you’re sure he knows it as he studies the color dancing across your cheeks. “You open up so good for me too.”

“Do I?” His words are met with fingers slipping up between your thighs, you bite back a gasp as he touches you over the already damp cotton of your panties, thighs trapping his hand there involuntarily.

“Mmhmm, you’re a good girl, look at you,” his words are like silky, snowy lashes low over dilated eyes as he sighs just a bit, feeling your slick coat his fingertips. “Did she miss me already?”

“Did you miss me?” Your counter question makes him pause because fuck he missed you - but it terrifies him that it’s not just the sexual need, the desire, it’s so much more than that.

He did miss you in just a few days, your smile and your scent, your sweet little giggle and the way you pressed your glasses up your nose. The very energy near him that emanates from you, the way you look up at him like that, the way he feels near you. He craves it like no drug he’s ever tried, your taste and the way your skin feels, the cute little sighs you make.

He’s fighting the inevitable fact that you’ve already sunk deep, that he’s becoming obsessed with you, and he’s not sure you feel the same. Clearly you enjoy him too, but you’re no where near his level, you’re not looking his workplace up and finding him like he just did, no Satoru doesn’t even know what the fuck in possessing him lately.

All he knows is he needs you around him, near him, on him…

Wants to bury inside you but that’s not even enough.

A quiet knock sounds on the door as Nanami walks in with a silver tablet, smiling as he walks inside, barely acknowledging Satoru then. “Hey darling,"- Hey Darling - he's gonna hey darling his fucking face - "Could you check this one for me, I’d love your opinion.”

“Of course I can.” Satoru’s hand falls and his fists clench at his sides, as you lean over the desk, and your breasts spill just a bit from your neckline, he sees the hazel eyes darting down and up quickly, wanting to smack him for even looking at you. “Oh Kento, it's so good!”

“Kento?” Satoru asks softly, and Nanami clears his throat, smiling over at him like an annoyance.

“That’s my first name,” he says, Satoru glares over at you now, and you tilt your head curiously. “Something wrong?”

You call him Kento.

He does not like it.

“No, no, sorry, go ahead sweetheart, I’ll wait.” He purrs those words, winking up at you, scrolling back through his phone, zooming right in on the picture he took, his favorite, where you have cum painted all over your ass and pussy.

Kento would never fucking have that from his darling.

“Your designs are so good,” he says, shoulder to shoulder with you now as the two of you peer at some of your work. “You need to give me a little advice.”

“What, no you’re so good at everything! You’re just being sweet,” your teasing giggle infuriates him, he wants to snatch you up and show who the fuck you are under, who gets to be inside you - but he holds it in.

It’s absurd.

He’s being so stupid and the worst part is he knows, but when Nanami’s big hand brushes against your back, leaning closer and murmuring something, it takes everything in him not to crash the fuck out. He tries to remember what you two are - but what the fuck even are you both?

You’d probably want someone like this Kento dude, wouldn’t you? You’d want someone with a career like yours, who clearly wants something serious, some ‘gentleman’ or so he seems. Even though Satoru is pretty fucking sure dude is not a gentleman, judging by the way his fingertips slip down your spine before his hand falls finally.

That’s when Satoru realizes he’s been holding his fucking breath.

“Are we still on for tonight?” He asks then, and Satoru’s stomach twists in knots as he watches you, shifting a bit, your weight on one foot, you look at him for a moment, eyes unreadable.

Say something, Satoru.

You want him to, fuck you want him to, but you wonder if you’re delusional when his lips turn up at the corners, and you turn back to Kento now, clearing your throat. “Um of course, dinner at eight right?”

“Mmhmm, also thought maybe go grab drinks somewhere after? If you’re still up for that.”

“We’ll see, I do get sleepy.”

You weren’t sleepy at four in the morning riding his cock the other night.

“No worries love, sounds good.” He presses a little kiss on your knuckles, walking out now and shutting the door behind him with a resounding click, leaving you both in the now quiet of your office, no noise but the shuffling of seats as you sit back down next to him.

“Where ya going?” Satoru asks, feigning ease and putting down his phone, you tense a bit, flustered.

It feels wrong to go on a date with Nanami when you just were getting Satoru’s cum spurted all over your body, doesn’t it?

But you and Satoru are not together, and he’s made it fairly clear when he has turned down two opportunities to stop you from it, that perhaps he doesn’t care. You still plan to be open with Nanami about this, because you don’t think it’s right not to share that sort of thing, but to close yourself off completely to a potential match in life for just sex wasn’t something you think was good to do either.

It’s a mess. Your mind, your feelings, your heart.

“I don’t know where we’re going, he is picking me up.” Your answer makes Satoru’s jaw tense, eyes flashing for just a moment over the sunglasses that have slipped down his nose just a bit.

“Oh?” His question just lingers in the air between you both, while you bite on your lip, clicking a little more.

“Yes, somewhere nice he said but I guess it’s a surprise. Do you have any plans tonight?”

“We’re all supposed to go to a party, maybe you should swing by after your date with Kento.”

“I guess I could.” You wonder if you’re imagining the inflection in his voice and in his tone. “Does he rub you the wrong way or something?”

“Just… no, I just…” Satoru never stutters, he never falters, but he can’t think of any good fucking reason he is so upset, so angry about it. He clears his throat and settles back in the chair a bit. “Be careful, though, you know?”

“Are you so worried about me?” You peek at him, hair falling across your face, Satoru brushes it back for a moment, lips parting, aching to say it.

Don’t go.

But he has no right to do that to you, to ask you to come with him instead, to have you so weak and fucked out you wouldn’t make it to your stupid date. In fact he’d love to have cum pouring from your pretty pussy, just in case Nanami touched you at all, which he very much doubts. But if he did, the thought of him just fingering Satoru’s cum gives him a sick and possessive thrill.

“Maybe I do worry a bit.” But you should be most worried about him, he’s the one that is truly not good for you, and he knows it. But how the fuck does he stay away when you’re pulling him in like gravity?

“He seems to be a gentleman. I think I’ll be perfectly safe, but it’s nice to know you care a little.” Your soft voice breaks off, he glares now at you.

“Think I don’t at all?”

“I don’t know your feelings, Satoru. You don’t… say anything really about them.” He looks away again, because before all of this, Satoru was once ‘in love’ and that girl destroyed him.

She was a pornstar herself.

It’s why he got in the industry, but her games and lies had left their mark, he knew then he didn’t wanna feel that way - to be hurt like that. But what he feels for you is different, it’s too much to explain, the obsessive nature of his thoughts were just burning up his brain. But he doesn’t need to spill it all, to explain it all - especially when he doesn’t even know what to say.

You just sigh a bit at his silence, tilting your head this way and that, fingers clicking the mouse as you adjust everything, trying to avoid the tension. “Look, what do you think so far?”

“It looks great, sweetheart.”

“Yay!” Your cute little smile and how you push up those glasses almost end him then and there. “I’ll make a couple different so you can alternate them. Want me to send them to your email later?”

“That would be amazing, how much?”

“Oh please, don’t ask me that. It’s nothing.” He frowns a bit at you.

“It’s your job.”

“Still, you’re my…” You trail off, the tension so palpable in the room as he stares at you it’s difficult to breathe. “Friend. Um, friend and family rate applies.”

“I’ll pay full price, sweets.” He pats your head affectionately, standing then and sending you far too much money.

“Satoru!”

“What? I looked up your rates online.” You roll your eyes at him, then frown as you stand as well, and his hand drifts down your arm slowly, achingly slow, in a ‘friendly gesture if anyone could see, but it felt far more than friendly.

“How did you find my work by the way?”

“Socials showed the company, I figured it was the one closest to where you said you lived.” He shrugs, as if he didn’t do a deep dive into you, and found that fucking Kento guy on the company site too, he was apparently your ‘superior’ so it’s odd he’s asking you for help, too.

He can’t reveal just how much he cares, how upset you haven’t come back over, how your replies were a little too short, even if they were sweet. Because if he said all of that he’d look like a whole fucking idiot, if he said casually ‘hey, think I’m absolutely obsessed with you and my dick is otherwise broken’ what would your response be, to a guy you still barely knew?

He needed to try to keep some of his obsession shoved down.

“Oh of course, you are probably on IG huh?” You peek then, looking him up, eyes popping out. “Oh damn, you’re IG famous too.”

“They’re thirsty is all.” You smile a bit, scrolling and seeing his sexy photos with millions of fucking hearts and thousands of comments.

“I’ll follow you, I don’t know why I didn’t think of looking you up. I’m social media clueless I’m afraid. I have like three selfies, the rest is just all the things I bake.”

Your three pictures at awkward angles are the prettiest things Satoru has ever fucking seen.

Your manager walks in then, smiling over at you. “Meeting in thirty.”

“Oh, thanks!” Satoru sighs now, realizing he needed to leave, and you put a hand on his shoulder softly. “Thank you for coming in, I’ll have the rest of these done later.”

“No rush, and of course,” he leans down, pressing a kiss on your cheek, feeling it heat under his lips, sighing as his hand presses against the small of your back, where Nanami had touched, splaying the expanse of it and hearing your catch of breath. “If you want, come to the party after, hmm?”

“I might be too tired,” tired from what!? Satoru pulls you so tightly you wince, and he loosens his hold when he realizes. “But if not I’ll for sure come.”

“Be careful tonight, though will you… just tell me when you get home?” You pull back curiously, looking up into his unreadable blue gaze, nodding then, earning a more casual smile that seems forced. “Good. Have a good… day then.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You press a kiss of your own on his cheek, on your tiptoes, that contact alone sends him, his eyes fluttering for a moment before he pulls back, slipping his sunglasses back up.

“Bye sweetheart.” He walks out, glaring as Nanami clacks away at his own keyboard, pressing his dark green shades down and smirking over at Satoru again, and he is even more firm in his opinion  - he thinks he hates that man, even if he doesn’t know shit about him.

Just having touched you is too much. When he’s in the back seat of the black car and his driver closes the partition, he can’t help but suck on his thumb, which has just the hint of your taste. He brushes it along his lower lip like a gloss, sighing at how good you taste. It takes him moments to try to calm his racing heart, palming his hardness and wincing.

All he can think of is you, constantly. It’s not getting any better since he had you cumming on his cock - it’s just gotten worse, the thoughts maddening, making anything else impossible to focus on. He peers at your photo in his phone, not just the one where he’s coated you in his cum, no it’s the one that’s just your pretty face when you’d been knocked out that morning.

He’s now a creep who takes photos of sleeping girls.

But you were so precious and peaceful, he had to capture it, craving you in his arms every night was even more palpable, as his thumb brushes down the cool glass of his phone, as if to trace that cheek. He can’t picture not having you again, but he also can’t picture how the fuck to be selfish enough to ruin your life with him.

******

The date with Nanami is perfect, as dates go.

He’s surprisingly so funny, he’s an avid listener, the two of you get along so well it’s easy being out together, taking nibbles of each other’s plates and sips of each other’s glasses of wine. His hand is on your thigh under the table cloth, he murmurs sweet little things in your ear, the two of you tease and gossip about the crazy people at your job.

It’s perfect, really. Nanami Kento is perfect, handsome and sweet, gentlemanly but he’s also not too gentlemanly, hazel eyes darting across your collarbones, where a pretty glittery necklace decorates it. His fingers brush up high on your inner thigh, his lips press against the shell of your ear, he’s too perfect. It’s too easy, the time just flies as you two spend time together.

Satoru texts you as Nanami goes to the bathroom, and you curse him internally, since he’s been in the back of your mind the whole fucking date. He’s texted you three times during the date, one is just a selfie, one is a little meme, and one is asking how it was going. You assumed he’d be busy with women all over him at the party, not texting you.

You get another asking for you to tell him when you’re home safe.

You like it too much, the attention, the messages, the fact that he thinks about you - but then you hate it, because all it was doing was forcing the obsession you so clearly have. Jenna told you not to lose yourself, she warned you, but you’re fearing you’re far, far past it all.

All you can think of is kissing him again.

His teases in the office left their mark, you found yourself aching in your shower after work, caving in and touching your puffy clit and sensitive cunt, whining out and leaning against those tiles, picturing his fingers instead. You’d been more frustrated than anything, unable to capture whatever it was he does to you.

You were never like this before you met him.

Satoru awakened a part of you, but if it was just a part of you and nothing else, then why weren’t you turned on by Nanami? He’s made you comfortable, you enjoy him, all the reasons you asked Satoru are right here, yet the thoughts don’t cross your mind, the feverish ones that consume you with Satoru - the filthy ones that make you blush as they dance across your mind.

You don’t write him back, you can’t focus if you do and it’s not fair to give Nanami a chance if you have that white-haired sex demon blurring your mind.

When the dinner is done, Nanami is driving you back home, a hand over yours, it’s nice and warm, as the two of you drive through the night, your hand grips his right back, entwining your fingers together. “Nanami, that was so fun!”

“I had a lot of fun too, doesn’t hurt you’re looking that gorgeous.” You giggle a bit, flustered now, as he pulls into your driveway and parks the car, still gently humming in the night.

“You look handsome too,” your little whisper is met with him unsnapping your seat belt for you, his cologne in your senses, musky and heady, you can’t help but inhale it. “And you smell so good.”

“Do I now?” You nod and he chuckles, cupping your face with his warm palm, a huge hand taking over the entirety of your face, your heart quickens at the contact as his hazel eyes dart to your lips.

You’d explained it all, the ‘friends with benefits’ thing that you suppose Satoru and you were. Nanami also has a similar situation, which instantly eased any sense of guilt, and his open mind surprised you, a lot of him surprised you, just how open he is when he seemed so ‘straight laced’ along with his touches, bold yet respectful.

You should be open to this.

What was the future with Satoru? More shoots in secret? Sneaking around and fucking in his penthouse and getting pampered after? Where was more - where were the dates where you weren’t ‘friends’ where you were his date. Where if a co star came up he ignored her politely, and if a man came up to you he firmly said ‘she is mine’.

It’s all a fucking fantasy is what it was.

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning forward and feeling Nanami’s exhale, as he presses his lips to yours, and it feels good, they’re firm and delicate in how they move across yours. Your lips part and his tongue sweeps inside, while your fingers grip his suit jacket, earning him dragging you closer against him, so big and overpowering yet so gentle.

It does feel good, tongues dancing against each other, his hand wrapping to your nape, entangling softly under where your hair is elegantly done up, drinking up your little sighs as you kiss. You feel delicate butterflies arise at it, but what you don’t feel is the insanity, the ridiculous need, the obsession you felt when Satoru had kissed you, touched you, fuck just that night when he blew smoke into your mouth.

You keep trying to explain it away, so you’re not hurt, so you won’t be so fucking hurt when he gets tired of you, but how can you get over this? When he was just at your office, fucking your mind up, making you soaked from his touch? How can you keep denying it, the irrevocable truth that you wish was not true.

Nanami’s hand trails down your waist now, and you moan softly, it feels good, when you’re overheated already, when the man clearly knows what he’s doing, breaking apart a bit to sigh, looking at you, his hand trailing down your thigh. “You taste so sweet, darling,” he whispers, making you flush even more. “And you’re so cute, you know that?”

“Oh, stop,” Yyu giggle again, gasping as he kisses down your neck, his hand slipping between your thighs. “Nanami…”

“You’re so hot there, fuck,” he’s moaning now, thumb toying with the elastic of your panties, making your thighs tense.

“Um, this is too fast, I’m sorry.” You whisper, easing back, seeing his lidded gaze now.

“I wasn’t going to… I was just going to please you.” He murmurs softly, sexy handsome face even sexier when he bites his lip. “I wasn’t going to do more than make you cum.”

“Oh… oh… I…” you trail off now, gently taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, he tenses a bit, clearing his throat.

“I was way too forward, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You ease his hand down, leaning forward and kissing the cleft on his chin.

If it was Satoru you’d have spread wide for him.

The frustration builds at this, your heart is hammering in your chest, it wasn’t just being comfortable with Satoru, it wasn’t just being his friend - there was no fucking way that was it. Now you have the proof in front of you, your body is reacting to Nanami, your nipples are pressing hard against your dress, your cunt is clenching at his touch, it wasn’t physically you wouldn’t enjoy it.

It was the case you’d always had - without more you couldn’t go through with it.

Nothing’s changed in how you feel or think of sex, like you thought, the only thing was the fucking feelings for Satoru.

Deep feelings.

You can’t even think of it right now, smiling and cupping Nanami’s face now, as your lips dance across his. “I loved tonight.”

“Thank god, I was worried I just ruined it.” You shake your head with a soft smile.

“Not at all.”

It wasn’t his fault you’re obsessed with a goddamn pornstar.

******

Parties aren’t fun when the girl you can’t get off your mind is with some boring ass business guy named Kento.

Satoru can hardly focus, sipping on his drink and sighing while Suguru kisses all over his favorite co-star. Sartoru is pretty sure at this point they’re together, considering the only time she’s not over at the penthouse is when Suguru is at her house, and she’s all Suguru talks about. He’s envious of the way the two freely do just that, be together, do shoots together more than not.

His other co-stars and friends are drinking, smoking, Sukuna is over there snorting a line off his favorite girl, leaving Satoru…

Alone.

He ignores anyone who comes up to him, how can he pay anyone attention when he knows you exist? When he wants you on his lap, your lips against his for everyone to fucking see, he wouldn’t even care if rumors went flying, he’s dealt with them before for lesser things, for little flings and favorite costars.

He just wants you here.

He checks his phone for the millionth time when Toji comes up, smirking over at him. “What do you want?” Satoru asks, pouting and looking at his phone.

“Saw that co-star of yours going viral, shit, why are you keeping her a secret?” Satoru’s jaw locks at Toji’s question, and Sukuna strolls up with his girl in tow, throwing back a drink.

“Wonder if she got your dick to work though, or you still need the viagra?” Sukuna asks, his girl gasps, smacking at him.

“That’s so mean!”

“What, he couldn’t get hard for you? That’s a problem,” Sukuna’s murmuring, and Satoru sighs, throwing back the rest of his drink.

“That why you’re just eating her out, then, but fuck that pussy is pretty,” Satoru almost punches Toji in the face as the black haired man grins. “I’m way older than you and don’t need viagra.”

“You are old as fuck.” Satoru says, standing and shoving at Toji then, who just chuckles, people are all looking, Suguru comes over, putting a hand on Satoru’s shoulder now.

“What’s going on, you all are always running your mouths.” Suguru glares over at Toji and Sukuna now, who snort in laughter.

“Well, well, it’s your girlfriend.” Sukuna earns Suguru raising a brow, cracking his knuckles. “Girlfriend is angry.”

“I’m about over you two running it.”

“We were just talking about his mysterious co-star.” Suguru frowns a bit, he’d seen the stream and put two and two together, and hasn’t spoken about it. “Wondering if his dick will work.”

“You’re really obsessed with my dick, Toji, you want it that bad?” Satoru’s blue eyes are glinting when Toji scowls and Suguru chuckles.

“It’s the ongoing joke of the industry- the biggest star and his broken dick. We should thank you though, making room for us to take the spot.” Sukuna says, Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, you wish.”

“I’d say that title would go to me, anyway.” Suguru’s co-star comes over, and he wraps an arm around her, looking over at Satoru. “Wanna go home with us?”

Satoru pauses, staring at his phone again and sighing in relief when he sees you typing, three dots moving. “Um… wait a sec…”

Sukuna and Toji finally leave, and Suguru is watching Satoru curiously. “Is she coming to the party?”

“No, guess she’s tired.” Satoru’s face falls, he catches his best friend’s all too knowing gaze. “She had a date.”

“Why don’t you ask her on one?” Suguru’s co-star asks curiously, Satoru frowns again.

“How could I?”

“We can still date, Gojo. Can’t we, Suguru?” She asks, and Satoru looks to see his friend’s blush then, eyeing the two of them, blue gaze narrowing with his white lashes lowering.

“It’s easier when you’re both in the industry I guess.” Suguru admits, sighing. “I was fully against it, but we still deserve to be happy, even if our career is a little out of the norm.”

“That’s a quick change.” Satoru says, Suguru shrugs a bit.

“I know it is. Satoru, nothing's changing in our friendship because of it.” Satoru’s seething with jealousy, now. Suguru and him began this together, and something about him having a girl and them looking so happy makes him long for you.

Toji’s comment made Satoru want to kill him.

In fact he doesn’t even want to know what anyone thinks, all the comments had gotten to him as he scrolled through - the men in there, saying how badly they wanted to lick your pretty pussy. But he’s the one who did this, who put you in that position, who the fuck was he to get upset that people commented? That’s what porn was, but at the same time, it was you.

Was he changing you? The shy, sweet girl he feels such a pull toward, was Satoru Gojo changing that? The thoughts make him dizzy, suddenly the entire party just feels like the worst place to be, people he used to enjoy and have fun with, now he wants to disappear, he doesn’t want to see them, hear them. He swallows down the nausea as he peers around yet another mansion.

What was the point of it all?

“Satoru, let’s go. You look like you’ve had too much.” Suguru murmurs, a hand on his shoulder, he finally looks at your messages.

Good Girl🫦 - Sorry Satoru, I am really tired and don’t think I have any more social battery for a party. I hope you’re having fun though! I am home and safe. 

Satoru hovers over the screen now, contemplating.

🌽🌟 Satoru - Do you want me to come over to your place?

You nervously look at the phone then, finishing slipping off your heels and hanging up your purse.

Satoru at your place?

Good Girl🫦 - You probably want to stay there I’m sure. Maybe we can do lunch or something tomorrow? I don’t want to ruin your party.

🌽🌟 Satoru - You don’t ruin anything. Ever.

He feels sick even typing it, being vulnerable, fuck he wants to see you, just you, not in an office or at a party or even with a friend. He just wants to see you.

Are you not alone, he wonders then, sicker and sicker, thinking of that man around you, he knows you’re a good girl, but did you invite him back for a drink? The thoughts won’t stop, he can clearly see him kissing you, touching you, maybe he’d make love to you where Satoru fucked you, maybe that’s what you deserved over him, but he’s too selfish to admit it.

Satoru wants to just worship you.

Maybe he should show you.

Maybe you’re already over him.

Maybe-

“Satoru, you’re just standing there, dude. Are you good?” He blinks into realization that he’s having an entire existential crisis mid party, blinking a bit as he waits for your response.

Good Girl🫦 - I don’t mind if you want to come over, if you’re not too far away you’re more than welcome to.

You send it after deleting three messages.

Satoru, will you ever… want more than sex?

I want you to come over so bad, I do, but I’m afraid of my feelings…

Are you sure you want to come over to see me or just have…

You had deleted them immediately, you can’t fucking say all that. You sit down now on your living room couch, tucking your feet under yourself and sighing, hair falling softly as you unclip it, setting the pretty gold butterfly pins attached on your little black table. What would Satoru think of your place?

It’s tiny, it’s neat and homey surely, but it’s nothing like his luxurious penthouse, LA was expensive and you were doing good enough to afford it. You frown a bit, wondering what he’s going to say.

🌽🌟 Satoru - Shoot me your address.

You nervously nibble on your thumb, doing just that, when Nanami texts you, the feelings of guilt come clawing. Though you were very open with Nanami about the situation, you’re not sure you can even be open to anything with Satoru fucking up your brain and heart.

Nanami - Thank you again for such a good night, I hope you had fun.

You smile at that, touching your lips carefully, remembering his kiss, passionate and surprising in its intensity. He is handsome, funny, he’s sweet, and the kisses felt nice, you were comfortable with him, all the things you tried to explain why you were so open being intimate with Satoru. It was just that, right?

Wrong.

If it was, then what was stopping you from letting Nanami please you earlier, when if Satoru touched you, you melted, you let him do anything he wanted. You’d let him do whatever, you’re not even sure he himself knows the power he has. How can you explain it all, how can you tie it in a neat bow, knowing the underlying reason is brimming to the surface?

Knowing the pain that was soon to come from it, from being in love with someone that will never see you as more than a friend or someone to fuck. To him, this is some physical connection - surely it’s enough that he only wants to sleep with you, but would that really be enough, when you can’t stop remembering how it felt to wake up in his embrace, to watch him asleep?

You- I had so much fun, thank you for tonight. I would love to spend time again with you.

It was the truth, you couldn’t completely close yourself off, that was what Jenna was warning you about. You had to still keep your ideas and options open, to learn from Satoru and enjoy him, this was ultimately your idea, and to have more expectations of Satoru, or to change him? It wasn’t fair to ask or want, you have to shove it all deep, deep inside instead.

Nanami - Good night then, I can’t say I won’t think about that kiss tonight.

You feel your cheeks heat up at that, giggling alone in your quiet townhome, sighing now.

You - Good night.

The doorbell rings, it’s far too fast from anywhere in LA to be Satoru, you tense a bit as you walk over barefoot to your door, over your soft carpet onto the little tile of the entryway, hand on the knob. You unlock it and swing it open, to see a serious Satoru right in your doorway, bathed in moonlight, his eyes looking right at yours, like he’s looking for something, anything.

“Satoru, that was stupidly quick, how?” His eyes flit down your pretty silver dress, glittering like the stars themselves, looking far too fucking pretty on you, clinging to your curves.

“Fuck you look beautiful,” you heat up, looking down nervously, you don’t have your glasses on, you are wearing some pretty silver eyeshadow too, glittering as the light reflects along your skin.

“Thank you, Satoru, you’re always being too sweet to me,” he wants to laugh at that, how is he sweet to you? He’s probably not shit, if he’s being honest, his hands sweating just slightly at the rush job he’d done to get here. “Come in.”

“That okay?” He looks around a bit, and you smile, nodding, shutting the door behind him and clicking the lock, when you feel him right against you, his hands sliding down your bare arms, making you tremble. Just a touch and you fall apart, you wish you weren’t so pathetic for him. “Your skin, it’s so soft,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder now.

“Is it?” You look back, he cups your chin, a thumb brushing against where your pulse races for him.

“Very, it always is. The softest, like your lips.” You swallow nervously as he speaks, as his thumb rushes across it, and you can’t hold back your fears.

“Did you come to fuck me?” He exhales at that, blinking then, the words feel so foreign from your lips. “I want you to, so you don’t have to… act like you want to hang out. We can just do it.”

“What?” His word cuts through the air, and you reach around, tugging on the little bow around your dress, letting it fall, looking up at him under your lashes.

“Unzip me, Satoru. If you want to.” This was what he ‘wanted’ right? To fuck you, to be inside you, but to hear you say it…

Like that…

He…

“You think I don’t enjoy spending time with you?” He turns you around instead, huge hands on your delicate shoulders, pressing tightly. You look away, shaking your head. “You just said that.”

“It’s clear you wanted to fuck me at work, so… I just figured you came over to do that. It’s what we do, and I enjoy it, I’m not complaining.” He doesn’t like a single fucking word from your mouth, especially the next ones. “Or did you want to do another shoot? I do have a ring light.”

Is that all you think he wants?

He’s sputtering now, when your hands slip down his front, over his soft black shirt, his strong abdomen tenses as you do, as one slips under, fingers touching his hot skin. “I will do another one if you want to.”

“Yeah, why?” He’s leaning so low, lips hovering. “Are you all horned up from the date?”

“Would you care if I was?” Your whisper almost ends him, he’s pressing you against the hard, cool wood of your door, his soft white hair falling over a brow, jaw so tense you can see it. “Don’t you get excited from your co-stars?”

No he sure the fuck doesn’t.

“How’d that date go?” His whisper dances across your lips, hands slipping to your waist now, thumbs pressing against the swell of your breasts over satin. “Have fun huh?”

“I did have fun,” you look right at him as you whisper. “He was sweet.”

“Was he?” He presses his forehead against yours, breaths mingling as they come out in little exhales. “Did he kiss you?”

“Yes, he did.” He glares now, leaning back up, a hand slipping up your back and entangling in your hair, making it fall back.

He has no right to be jealous, his job was to fuck women.

He has no right to be jealous, you’re not his.

He has no right to feel this way.

“Did you like it, his kisses?” Satoru’s words are met with him tugging harder at the nape of your neck, and your heart hammers in your chest, body aching for him, but it’s more, and you can’t let it be more.

“He was a good kisser, yes.”

“Oh, that so?” You nod, and he traces your lips with his thumb, seeing they’re soft and glossy. “Huh, when we kiss, they get swollen, red, they look so perfect.”

“Do they?” You raise a brow, acting like you’re not dying for him, like you don’t need him, with a longing that is frightening. He is so close you can taste the mints on his breath, mixed with the faint taste of liquor. “Need a drink, Satoru?”

“I do, I’m thirsty.” You go to move when he shoves you back against the door once more, sinking to his knees, you gasp at the action, when he shoves up your dress and glares at you. “Hold it up, now.”

You do just that, with shaky hands, when he looks at your white lace panties, moaning at the dark wet spot forming before his eyes, fingers brushing across it. “Satoru…”

“Need a drink, you’ll be a good host to your guest, won’t you?” His whisper is met with his tongue lapping over lace and silk, and your hands drop the dress, clinging to him instead. “I said hold up the dress.”

“Satoru, we- ah!” He grips your hands, shoving up the silver dress again, then slowly slipping those panties down your thighs, blue eyes almost black with desire, while you can hardly function or form a thought.

It’s all need, deep and hot.

Satoru bares your pretty cunt to his face, groaning at the sight, breath hitting your clit as he spreads your plump lips, eyeing your twitchy little clit and flicking his finger across it in slow circles, making you pour out of your little hole. “Is all this wetness from that hot date, sweetheart?” He asks, knowing it’s toxic, petty, stupid, but he can’t stop himself from it.

What the fuck do you do to him?

“No, it’s not.” Your answer is what he needed, latching his mouth on your clit and sucking it into his mouth, humming on it and sending vibrations of pleasure, you scream out at it, head thwacking the door while he hoists a thigh over his shoulder, one hand gripping your ass while the other holds your hood up. “Satoru!”

He moans as you cry out his name, slurping you up as you go boneless in his fucking hold, hips bucking up as the pleasure is blinding, you’re gasping out as the dress is bunched up in one hand, the other clinging to his other shoulder. You’re rolling your eyes back in your skull, pleasure so fucking exquisite you can hardly stand, can hardly see, while Satoru worships you on his knees.

It’s what it felt like.

How he looks at you, how he drinks you, tongue lapping at the juices that pour down his face, and you can’t form a word or a thought, just how much you love it, how much you love-

Fuck.

You tried, you tried to pull back, to make it just sex, but how the fuck can you when you’re lost in those blue and black storms of eyes, when he’s got you in a bruising grip, working your body like he’s always known it? You’re cursing internally as you rock against his face, earning his moan of pleasure as he works you into an orgasm, hitting you so hard your head smacks the door hard.

“Fuck, fuck! Mnh!”

“You’re a good girl, where’s that mouth coming from?” He yanks you down then, you almost fall on him as you lose balance, cunt pulsing from aftershocks as his eyes are unreadable, and he’s gripping your face tightly.

“Satoru…” Your words are cut off with his kiss, his deep, brutal kiss, not teasing and playful, or passionate and intense, no he’s bruising your lips with his, flipping you on your back right onto your carpet, now hovering on top of you. “We… I have a bed, Satoru!”

“We’ll get there,” his voice is hoarse as you sink into the carpet under him, and he’s yanking down your top, seeing where his marks still litter your pretty breasts, making him fucking feral as he sucks one peak into his mouth. Your hands entangle in his hair, hips arching up for more. “Look, sweetheart, your tits are so bruised, I’m sorry I left so many…”

“You’re… I…” He’s sinking his teeth into your nipple, the pain making you cry out, cunt gushing wetter and wetter when his fingers find you, two sinking right in down to the knuckle, and your cunt greedily sucks him in, despite the stretch, the burn. “Mnh!”

He presses sloppy kisses to your other breast, before biting and sucking in more places, knowing what the fuck he’s doing, the thoughts of if that man got to see your breasts, they’d be marked by him, filling his addled mind. The thoughts of marking you fucking everywhere driving him insane while he slots his fingers in your gummy, drenched walls, hearing the squishing in the room.

“Kiss me, please,” your sweet plea ends him, he’s kissing lips he wished didn’t kiss anyone else, tongue slipping into your mouth in a mess, knowing you need it, fuck he just knows you, all of you, where to curl those fingers so you cum again, as he’s curling them against your spot. “Ah! Satoru!”

“Fuck,” the way you say his name, your moans, your cries, he’s lost in them all, in your scent in his nostrils, in the taste coating his lips and tongue. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart, use your words.”

“Ngh!” How do you find the words, desperately shoving up his shirt, knowing you’re falling deeper for him, all him, he’s all you can fucking think about.

You’re going to get hurt.

Worse if you fuck him again.

He pulls his fingers out, sucking you off him and making you weak, before pulling the shirt off, his necklaces brushing against your collarbones as he leans over you, grinding his clothed cock against your heated cunt. “Please!”

“Please what, baby?” Satoru is calling you baby, and your thighs are shaking as he presses again, making you grind desperately for friction. “Use your words.”

“In me, please, in me.” You manage to spit those words out, in between gasps and moans, he has his heavy cock against you in moments with quick, precise tugs on his buttons and belt, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of his cock against your inner thigh. “P-please…”

“I’ll give you anything when you ask like that,” his vulnerability spills out before he can swallow it, looking at your heartbreakingly beautiful face, at the way the soft lights overhead glitter on your skin, while his cock presses on your entrance. “Want all of me, baby?”

“All of it - f-fuck!” He’s slid in one stroke to the fucking hilt, stuffing you so full you’re twitching under him, gasping for breath as he moans at the feeling, of your cervix kissing his tip that’s already leaking pre, watching the way your eyes go black from desire, how your nostrils flare, how you bite that lip.

“Can you even take me? Tiny little cunt, is she able to?” He’s taunting you, but all you can do is nod weakly, when he slides out, then fully back in with a loud, squelching smack of his hips, your screams are hoarse and weak after three thrusts, nails digging into his back and making him hiss as you mark him yourself.

A petty fucking part of you hopes if he does a shoot a girl will see them.

See your nails that press again, into his biceps this time, and you just urge him on, fucking into your cunt harder, faster, leaning up on a hand while his other grips your chin. “Look at me when I fuck your perfect little pussy, huh?”

You barely find the ability to open your eyes, knowing your done for, knowing when you look into those pretty eyes you’re fucked worse. But you obey, earning his moan, his plump lips parted as he slams hard, now releasing your face and holding a thigh up, slamming even harder, while you fall apart under him, cunt spasming around his length as he works you.

“Fucking feel you, god you’re perfect,” he loses his control then, how can he keep any semblance of it up when he feels you, when he looks into your pretty eyes, glittering with tears as he presses so deep and rolls, and he brings you to another orgasm, one so intense you grip him like a vise, crying out as it works over you. “Good girl, god you’re so good for me huh?”

You weakly acknowledge him, but you’re already fucked out, he drags his canines along your collarbone, leaving imprints of his teeth, all while you’re helpless under him, shattering with every stroke of his huge cock stretching you. “Mnh, S-Satoru… fuck…”

“She’s taking me so well, she’s already learned my shape, hasn't she?” His whisper confuses your overheated mind, but your nod makes him go harder, faster, leaning up to watch what the silver dress has done, scrunched and wrinkled, giving him a sick satisfaction.

Nanami shouldn’t have seen you like that.

He is furious he kissed your perfect lips, but he can’t say it out loud, he can just make sure you forget that kiss, replacing his lips with yours as he lays over you, hands now on your ass, shoving in and bottoming out as much as he can. “Satoru!”

God, the way you moan his name.

“Cum again, for me, you can again baby, huh?” You answer by convulsing, all while he holds back from busting inside your cunt, images flitting through his mind, when he finally pulls back, jerking his cock slick from your drooling cunt and cumming all over your pretty pussy. “Oh f-fuck… oh my god…”

You watch Satoru fall apart, trying to collect your breaths, as you watch his cum shoot all over, hot messy white ropes, even some on your pretty dress, while he’s all pink cheeked, his lips pursed as he whimpers and looks down at you. The way he looks at you, before kissing you again, letting you drink in his breathy whines, it all feels too intimate, too much.

This can’t fucking be normal.

You can’t let it go, though.

He’s kissing you desperately, pinning your wrists to the soft carpet, as he takes lips hostage, they’re sore, tingling and swollen, just making you want more, as his cum dries sticky on your slick cunt. “Fuck you’re perfect, god, every part of you, so perfect for me,” he’s whispering, kissing you in between insane fucking words. “So perfect.”

“No,” you shake your head and he laughs, without humor, cupping your face with one hand, swiping tears that fell from pleasure. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you fucking are, it’s all I can think about, looking at that pretty face like this again.” You shake your head and he kisses you again, luring you to lose yourself, it’s all you can do to stay tethered. “I don’t just want to fuck you, I love spending time with you, and we never have to do another shoot.”

“Don’t say all of that.” You whisper, he sighs now, shaking his head.

“Say what, you’re the best I’ve had?”

“There’s no fucking way, you’ve had how many women?”

He blinks then, hearing the tone of your voice. “That makes me know even more.”

“It’s just… maybe different because… it’s not business.” Your insecurities scream out without you wanting them too, and he frowns, looking down and cursing then. “What’s wrong?”

“Your dress, this material, fuck…” He curses at how inconsiderate he’s already been, this is clearly expensive and he’s bunched it up and came all over it. “I need to clean it now or it’ll be ruined.”

“Oh… it’s fine I’ll toss it in a washer.”

“You dry clean this material, sweetheart.” He helps you up carefully, you get whiplash from him then, all sweet and caring like he didn’t just fuck your insides up, like he didn’t fuck your brains out. “Let me try?”

“Sure… just help me…” You turn around, and he eases that zipper down, fingers touching the marks left from it carefully.

“Was I too rough with you?” He asks hoarsely, seeing the marks from the door and carpet indented in your skin.

“No, I… loved it.” Your answer earns an exhale of relief, but you curse softly in your mind, knowing what you were about to say.

“You’re inexperienced, and I was really...”

“I’m good, Satoru.” You turn, dress slipping down your body, leaving him to eye you naked, and his cock damn near gets hard again under the hastily half zipped pants. “You can be rougher with me.”

“Rougher?” His brow raises, as he takes your dress, pressing little kisses across your thighs as he picks up the material. “You like it rough, sweetheart?”

“I like anything you do,” you curse then, shaking your head. “I need a drink. Here, I’ll show you over to the sink to rinse this out.” He blinks as he follows you, sighing now, and you show him the neat stainless steel sink. “It’s not a big deal, it was a dress I bought forever ago.”

“It’s still really beautiful, I bet he was dumb from how pretty you looked.” His words are hoarse, your eyes meet again. “You looked beautiful when we went out too, fuck you always do.”

“Thank you, Satoru. You always look… gorgeous too.” You expect a playful agreement, a smirk, but he’s quiet now, cleaning the white cum while you realize you’re still naked, so comfortable it was like you hardly noticed. “I’ll grab some pajamas real quick. I have nothing that would fit you I’m afraid.”

“Are you asking me to stay the night?” Your eyes lock again across the kitchen.

“It’s late, you should stay. If you want.”

“Yeah?” You just nod again, so much left unspoken, both of you aching to say things, both of you unsure of your worlds anymore.

“I meant it, about a shoot, if you want.” You say then, and he exhales, looking back at the wet silver material in his hands.

“Don’t do it just for me, don’t just… change for me. I’ll be fine if we don’t do one, okay?” You hate the feeling then - he’ll be fine.

With other girls. His career. His job, his life.

How would it ever include you?

“I didn’t do it just for you, it was hot, okay? It was sexy when we watched it together…” You trail off again, and he turns off the sink, gripping your naked body with wet hands, making you squeak as he does, when he slowly walks you back, until your back is against the counter.

“You didn’t hate doing it?” His words confuse you now.

“What, no. I wouldn’t have if I hated it.”

“Would you have… for anyone else?” His next question is met with a shake of your head as your answer, eyes darting to his lips. “No one else?”

“No one else. It was for you. But I enjoyed it all. I promise you didn’t pressure me into it, okay?” He sighs in relief, kissing you again, hands all over your body until he picks you up, and you cling to his neck, thighs around his waist while your dress hangs across the sink.

“Know how bad I wanna cum inside your pussy?” He says softly, you swallow as he pulls back to look at you, your breaths coming faster.

“Do you do that?”

“No.”

You bite your lip again, taking a breath for courage.

You want him, any of him, all of him, until you can’t have him.

“Thinking of cum pouring from your pussy? God you know how much we’d make, baby? But it’s… that’s a lot to ask…”

“You want to cum inside me?” He moans, nodding desperately, and you cup his face, pressing a kiss where his cheek is burning. “I’m on the pill, if you want to.”

“Are you… sure?” You nod, letting him carry you to the bed, he’s cleaning you all up with his tongue, lapping all his cum off you, off your tummy, thorough as he feels you shaking under him.

“Favorite co-star then, huh?” You tease softly, he nods weakly, words stuck in his throat when you sit up. “What position, Satoru?”

Fuck… he doesn’t deserve to have you like this, bent over as he adjusts his phone on your light, hitting record. He’s got it angled just so it’s your ass and pussy showing, the arch just so, your face buried into your pillows, which he’s covered up with a black sheet so nothing personal shows.

“You sure, baby?”

“Yes,” is your soft whisper when he’s leaned over you, your eyes meet his, away from the camera’s view, locking. “I want to do this for you.”

“Fuck, baby…” He kisses you before he pulls back, tip brushing between your folds, before sinking in, hearing your gasp, feeling your grip. “God, you’re so tight, so pretty, look at you…”

You wonder how much is for camera, but the way he fucks you is desperate, his rhythm is off as his fingers press into the dimples on your back, as his hands slap and grip your ass, and he rocks inside you. You’re gripping the black sheet and arching for more, his balls slapping your clit with wet smacks that echo, mingling with his husky breaths and moans.

“Gonna fill you up, you want that, huh baby?” Satoru forgets he is on camera then, he forgets he’s just fucking, he can’t help but whisper how good your cunt is, how you’re the best he’s fucking had, just hoping those whispers don’t get caught, that they’re drowned out by your screams of pleasure.

He’s pulsing inside your walls, as you bury your face further, getting pumped full of his thick cock over and over in a maddening pace, the way his tip drags then ends you, your orgasm leaving you weak and breathless, and he pauses at it, whining out, something he did not do on camera. He’s hesitating, he’s never cum in someone, and he’s not sure he’s deserving of it.

Not of you at all.

You’re so perfect, so fucking pretty, so tight - and he doesn’t deserve it, any of it, having you bend over for him, spread wide, taking back shots like you were fucking made for it, for him. He’s lost as he presses your head down with one hand, muffling your breathy cries while you arch more, taking his mean strokes as he falls apart, his other hand trembling as he clings to your hip tightly.

Satoru has never felt this, losing himself, uncaring how the fuck he looked on the camera or even that there was a camera, all he can think of is filling your perfect pussy with him, of doing the one thing he has avoided all these years, but that he can’t imagine not doing. Undeserving or not, he’s closer and closer, when you’re pulsing around him from another orgasm, and your cunt is dripping more and more.

He takes a breath, feeling his cock thickening inside you, leaning back over you again, mouth whispering in your ear as he delicately brushes damp strands of hair from your forehead. “Sweetheart, are you still sure?” His soft question just sinks it further, when he looks at you like that, and you feel his cock thickening more.

You’d do anything for him.

Plus you want him to.

“I want you to cum inside me, Satoru,” your whisper ends him, he kisses your cheek, your temple, nodding as his snowy lashes lower. “Please.”

Your plea destroys Satoru, as he pulls back and grips your ass, fucking into you hard for just a few more strokes before moaning so loud, his head falling forward as he cums inside your perfect cunt. He’s never felt anything like it, like your gummy walls fluttering and milking his cock, like cumming inside you, fuck he knows then he couldn’t ever do this with anyone.

Creampies on set were notorious, but he never felt okay with it, but now he fills you so fucking much, while you’re cumming from that, the warmth of his white hot cum coating your walls, shooting against your sore, bruised cervix. You’re sobbing into the pillow, pussy pulsing as if she’s sucking up all he’s got, hearing his whine, so sexy as he slows his strokes.

“God, you took it all too, you’re such a good girl, pussy so hungry for all my fucking cum, huh?” You nod desperately, thighs shivering as he pulls out, squelching sound so filthy as his cock pulls out, swirled with your gossamer slick and his white ropes spilling already. “Oh fuck, let’s see how much you took, hmm?”

“Mnh…” you’re delirious, unable to even focus, as you feel his cum start oozing out of your hole when he spreads it, you’re sure to get the shot. You can’t even feel embarrassed, not when he has you feeling so desired, so full of him, all you can do is arch that ass more for him, lost in your high. “Y-yes,” your soft words only hit his ears just barely.

He spreads your puffy lips, groaning at the sight of his own cum pouring slowly in drips from your tiny hole. “Look how much she took, she’s so full of all my cum,” Satoru angles the camera now, catching the sight of your perfect cunt leaking his white seed slowly, his fingers drifting down to collect some of it, shoving it back inside and watching your greedy cunt suck his fingers up. “Keep it in there, sweetheart.”

“Ngh…” Your thighs shake as he shuts off the camera, flipping you now, cupping your face delicately, eyes drifting across your face, sighing as he looks at you, the imprints of the sheets against your cheek. He gently touches it.

“You sure about sharing this? I want you to make sure you know, none of this is for the fucking camera,” his words are husky, devoted, as he hands you the phone, hands you the control, all while he’s slowly leaking from your cunt.

You look at the video then, blushing as you watch it, hips shifting as you see the sight of him pounding your cunt from the back, hearing your cries and the smacks, but mostly when you see the look on his face, it halts you. The lost, mad fucking look written all over his handsome face, the way he whimpers for you, the trembling of his hands you didn’t notice.

Satoru looks as lost in you as you were in him, and you’re addicted to it.

He’s pressing kisses delicately along your breasts, your tummy, where he’d left marks along your ribs, he kisses your hips where his fingers already have left bruises from your grip. He’s spreading your thighs, eyeing your face, as your thighs shake from his kisses getting higher, he worships you, every inch like he’s wanted to, wondering what you’ll say.

A part of him wants you to say no, to say it’s just for you two.

But a part of him wants to show you how perfect you are, how sexy you are, let you fucking see it.

He’s so torn, so lost in you, in the sight of that cum still leaking from your hole.

“Creampie, that’s what you titled it? What is that?”

He chuckles now, shaking his head at you as he leans up a but, and your fucked out eyes glance at him. “It means I came inside you, sweetheart. You’re cute. You really don’t know what that means?”

“No… I didn’t.” You’re all blushing again, leaning up on your elbows now as his grin is white and brilliant, again all sweet like he didn’t just fuck you twice, and bust inside you. “Is it popular?”

“Very, very popular. Just never… something I wanted to do, until you.” The more words are left unspoken, while he presses a kiss on your soft tummy, fingers dancing across your thighs. “What do you think?”

“It’s… really hot. You look so good, it’s crazy to see this angle,” he nods a little, kissing your inner thigh, as you brush a hand along his hair. “You think it’ll please your manager?”

“Oh god, baby that is the best shot I’ve done,” you bite that lip now, before pressing share, and covering your face with a breathless giggle. “Fuck, look at you, gonna be a pro.”

“Oh god,” your hands are gently pulled off your face now, while he leans over you, kissing your lips softly. “Am I like a whole pornstar now?” You ask nervously, he sighs then, he gently brushes your hair back.

“Baby you’re a star already, didn’t you know?” Your lips are taken over, while the video goes insane on the bed next to the two of you, and Satoru’s fingers are shoved in your cunt again, already so sore, but you’re fucked up off it, the pain and pleasure, the need for him in every fucking way.

He’s sucking the mix of the two of you off his fingers, he’s sharing that cum and spit in your open mouth, moaning and eyeing the comments.

“I wish I was cumming inside her… excuse me?” You giggle a bit at his glare.

“What do you care about the comments, haven’t you read yours?”

“Yes but… bet her pussy is so tight - yeah it is but…” he’s pausing, scowling at the numerous comments, and you’re blinking at him, a bit confused. “I don’t want to read them, actually.”

The dollar signs wrack up, insane amounts - way more than before, as he shakes his head, back between your thighs, tongue hitting your overstimulated cunt, making you cry out for him, when his phone rings. “You know, Satoru, I hate your phone.”

“I hate my phone.” He picks it up, while still lapping at your cunt, drinking up the taste of his cum and yours like an insane man as he answers the phone casually on speaker. “What?”

“Gojo, that girl… she’s made for porn, what the fuck? Where have you been hiding her!?”

He glares at the phone, as you cover your mouth, hiding a giggle, his blue eyes narrow when he flicks his tongue up your milky slit again, grinning as you can’t hold back your moan. “She’s my secret star.”

His words bring out too much pleasure, the way his hands grip you, the possessive way he fucking speaks. “Well, if she wants a manager, please tell her about me. You two could make so much money on a real set.”

“She wants to keep a low profile, and she’ll only do it with me.” Satoru says, the thought of you on set with a camera crew makes him unreasonably annoyed.

“All right, that works for now, but talk to her about it.”

“Sure, whatever.” He hangs up then, and eyes you carefully, lapping more of you up as he does, you’re hissing at the sensation, whining out softly. “Don’t worry or listen to him, mmkay?”

“Would I um… not be ideal on set?” He scowls now, pulling back, strings of his cum and yours falling off his lips.

“What?”

“I’m not LA hot.”

“You’re right, you’re fucking beautiful, hot doesn’t describe you.” He is kissing you again, cupping your face as he does. “You want to be anonymous.”

“I do.” But what if he still was with other girls?

The thoughts eat at you.

“Baby we could never do another shoot, and I’ll cum inside you any hour of the fucking day, yeah?” His words mean too much, you nod shyly, before gasping as he’s back at your entrance. “I’m always hard for you, you’re always soaked for me, pussy she’s made to take me, say it.”

“Satoru…”

“Say it,” he desperately pleas, and you nod, knowing it’s fucking foolish. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Made for you, ah!” He’s back inside you, gentle and slow, knowing you’re sore, and it’s all making the lines blur more and more, his kisses, his slow fucks into your cunt, the way he looks at you, all while the money racks up.

But he couldn’t care less about it.

He wants to make sure you’re so sore and full of him that man has no chance of touching you, he wants to tell every commenter he gets to cum inside you, he’s selfish, he’s stupid. He doesn’t deserve you, he knows he doesn’t, yet he wants to drink up every moment before you realize he’s not good enough.

Meanwhile your heart breaks, as you’re in his arms later, wondering how long until he will realize you’re not enough for his career, how long until he’s inside another woman, and you know you won’t be able to take it. Kissing him softly as he tugs you closer, too intimate, too much.

You’ve fallen too deep.

*****

Jenna frowns as she studies you the next afternoon, you’re disheveled and your hair is a wreck, you’re covered in marks, and she just saw Satoru leaving in the back of his limo. You’re nervously trying to fix yourself, and avoid her knowing gaze, when she peeks at her phone, with a stream of Satoru, and puts it all together, shaking her head now.

“Jenna…”

“You’re letting him change you, for what?” You blink back tears at her harsh words, glaring now.

“You don’t get to judge me.”

“I’m not baby, fuck I’m worried!? This isn’t who you are, and I don’t want you to lose yourself because of him. What’s he giving you, besides backshots?”

“You know what, you can go.” You blink more tears now, and she sighs, coming up to you and cupping your face.

“I’m sorry, I just have known you since we were kids. Is this what you want to be, a… pornstar? Like me?”

“No, I don’t want to be that. I just… want to be enough for him.” She blinks back her own tears now, swiping at yours.

“That’s my worry, you are enough for anyone. The way you are… the way you were, more than enough!”

“Jenna I need to be with him, however I can be.” She sighs now, as you tug your hair into a hasty ponytail, grabbing a drink from the fridge and throwing the coolness down your throat. “I know you just care.”

“I do. Can I ask, has he changed one bit for you?” You pause, shutting the fridge and looking at your best friend, who has her arms crossed.

“Why should he? It was my idea to… join his world. I can’t ask him to change, how is that fair?”

“But you change yourself, lose yourself, for him?” You hate how the words sink in, how you grip your glass and lean against the counter, feeling every word she’s saying, but knowing you’re too far gone. “Men like him don’t change.”

“You don’t know him, Jenna. You don’t.”

“Don’t I? Baby that’s all I know. You’re… you’re still a good girl, okay? I’m not gonna continue, I don’t want our friendship strained. But please just think for a moment, is he going to change, commit, anything?” You sigh now, you have been so obsessed with him, with how you feel, you can’t think of anything else.

“I don’t know.” Is your answer, when she pulls you into her arms, and you feel the tears falling. “I’m in love with him, Jenna. I am so in love and it hurts.”

“Shit,” she holds you as you sob against her, letting the words finally fall from your lips. “Honey…”

“I’m fine losing myself if it means I’m with him.”

“You can’t lose yourself for anyone.” You know she’s right, deep down, you know her words are dead on, but there’s no hope for it, there’s no denying it.

You’re in love with Satoru Gojo, the pornstar, the unattainable bachelor, and you’re losing yourself in him.

And the angst is actually more ahead as these two dummies make my hands hurt with how much they force me to write :') I can't believe in 4 parts I'm already at 46k and they're as dumb as before. More mess to ensue, I am glad you all love this one and look forward as ALWAYS to your comments!!!

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[sqtorux]

love makes a man tender— the same could be said for a monster.

sukuna sits patiently with his daughter on his lap while she applies various colours on his face he finds so hideous.

her small little hands pat the products into his skin, a bit too aggressively for his liking but he lets her regardless, not without a few grunts and huffs of annoyance though.

"pick another one" sukuna says in an irritated tone when she brought a bright pink blush close to his face.

the child only pouts "but 'ts pretty!!" now if you must know, sukuna dislikes pink; hates it even. it looks lively and soft — the exact opposite of who he was. (also maybe because a certain someone aka his least favourite niece has the exact same hair colour but the girl doesn't need to know that).

despite that, sukuna finds himself giving into that stupid pout he somehow catches himself adoring. all four of his eyes roll "get on with it then."

the giggles that follow after almost made him want to paint all of himself pink. almost.

however, what drove him to the edge was when he was asked to close his eyes so she could apply yet another colour onto them.

being the kid she is, she does it a bit sloppy— accidentally poking his eyes once or twice. "brat that hurts" sukuna growls but makes no move to stop her.

he thinks the foolish eye pokes were worth it when a light peck lands on each of his eyes "sorry daddy!" the child chuckles and sukuna opens his eyes.

one of his four hands make their way to her lips stained with a faint black— which he guesses were from his eyes, and wipes them away gently. "you look stupid."

the girl ignores his half assed words and brings yet another bright shade and begins applying it onto his lips. he sits obediently.

"there! you're done. you're so pretty daddy!!" the child squeals in excitement and brings a mirror to her father's face.

sukuna stares into the mirror and frowns "how horrifying."

"do you not like it?"

sukuna scoffs and places the mirror down "i have always wanted to look abominable."

"yes you look adorable!" the girl giggles while clapping her tiny hands together happily. sukuna doesn't correct her.

later when she sleeps and you're talking the makeup off for him, sukuna complaints.

"this is the result of the small brat's assault."

you only laugh in response and his eyes stare up to you. "i am being very serious."

"then why didn't you stop her?"

sukuna doesn't have an answer to that because that would mean he had to admit his affection for yet another person after you.

"that's right, you'd do anything for her won't you?" your chuckle makes all four of his eyes roll. he seems to do that a lot lately.

"the small brat and the big brat love tormenting me."

you raise a brow at this, "and do you have a problem with that?"

sukuna huffs but the soft expression replacing his usually grim one betrays the act of annoyance he puts up.

"i wouldn't have it any other way."

[rosiereveries]

This is part two of ex - boyfriend´s dad John Price x reader

TW: age gap (John is in his late 40s and reader is in her early 20s), reader is in relationship with her ex-boyfriend´s dad, breeding, unprotected sex, reader is a female

Part one

John made it very clear from the biggening that he will not hide the fact that you were sleeping together. After the night you spend together at the party, he drove you home, and asked for your number. You didn’t think that he will actually call or text you. But when you walked the stairs to your apartment, you already had a message from him, that said text me when you get to your flat, so I know you’re okay.  You texted for a while and when he promised you, that he is looking for more than just some random one-night stand, you knew what you had to do.

The next morning when you woke up, you immediately texted your boyfriend telling him that you need to speak with him. After he told you that his schedule for this week was full (it was Tuesday) you knew you were making the right decision. You wanted to finish the relationship face to face, you were not a coward, and you were not afraid to break that boy’s heart. But he left you no choice. So, you just replied that he doesn’t have to bother, that you’re breaking up with him. He didn’t respond.

John’s situation was a little bit more complicated, he couldn’t just divorce his wife, yes, they signed a prenup when they got married (John was already rich), but the process of the whole divorce was time consuming and exhausting. He knew that his wife would not cooperate. But he was not a young foolish boy, who would hide his girlfriend. If he wanted to have a relationship with you, he would. John knew that his wife also had affairs, and he didn’t feel obligated to let her know about you.

So, when after some time of you hooking up, he invited you to his house for a weekend you agreed. You expected to be just with him, and you were quite excited. What you didn’t expect was when your now ex-boyfriend opened the door, asking if you came to see him. Of course, he ignored your messages, and he thought that you were still dating.

That’s how John finds you. Talking with his son, panic in your eyes realising that his whole family is home. But John doesn’t mind. He comes to you, with one hand he squeezes your ass and with the other one he holds your neck, and he kisses you, deeply and passionately. He needs to show his son, that you are his know, that he had his shot, and he fucked it up. When your ex starts to shout at you, for being a whore and sleeping with his dad, John just calmly says to him that this is his house, and if he doesn’t like what he sees, he can leave.

John’s wife reaction is pretty much the same. She tells you that John had many women over the time of their marriage, and none of them lasted longer than a few weeks. She tells you that John is maybe fucking you right now but she is still his wife. When John tells her that he is actively working with his lawyer on changing that she has a full meltdown and leaves.

When you are finally alone with John he apologizes to you. He says how sorry he is that you had to hear these things, but he wants you here now and he can’t wait any longer. He tells you sweet nothing and he kisses your neck repeating how good you are for him and how he is so grateful that he met you. When he starts to slowly touch you, creasing your breasts through your bra and gently biting your neck, you tell him that you can’t have sex with him when you know that his son, your ex, is here.

But that doesn’t stop him, he tells you that he wants to show him how good he can make you feel. In some twisted way you start to think about this as your revenge against your ex. John is right, if he doesn’t want to hear you fucking, he can leave. So, you tell John that he can continue. John bends you against the kitchen table, not waiting any longer and he starts to pull down your panties.

He tells you how long he’s been imagining fucking you here, rough and dirty and how hard it makes him. John wants to come inside you again and again. He pushes his dick into you fast, in one swift motion and you can feel him stretching you. Even though you slept with John more times that you can actually count, it is still a stretch for you. He starts to fuck you hard, and you can fell his dick bruising your cervix. When he pulls up your shirt and starts to play with your nipples you’re moans get louder. You tried to be quieter, but John knows how to make you sing for him. When you hear sounds on the upper floor you just hope that John’s son won’t come down. It is one thing to let him hear you and the other to let him actually see how his dad fucks you.

One of Johns hands slip between your tights, and he starts to rub your clit telling you to come on his cock now. You cum at the same time as John, his load spilling inside of you and your pussy milking him. After he pulls his cock out, he pulls up your panties, he gives you a smack on your ass, and he asks you if you want a tour of his home.

Then he fucks you in the shower you take together. He presses you against the glass, pounding into you like a horny teenager who can´t stop thinking about sex. Your next round is in his bed, late at night when he makes you ride him until your legs hurt. When you wake up the next morning John is already between your legs sucking and licking your clit, telling you how pretty your moans sound when you are asleep. Then, when you’re making breakfast, he asks you to return the favour, so you end up on your knees sucking his cock until he cums in your mouth.

By the end of the weekend John’s son is gone, he moves in with his friend and you’re in the house alone. Now John can fuck you whenever and wherever he wants. You do it the hot tub, in the garden and on the balcony. Every night you go to sleep with Johns cum in your pussy and you start to get worried. You take your birth control pills every day, but you’re not sure if they will work with this amount of fucking. You just hope and pray that you will not end up pregnant with John’s child, even though that is exactly what he wants. After all he needs to find a new wife and you’re the perfect candidate.

Masterlist You can support my work here : ko-fi

[pixiefelixie]

・❥・(ot8 headcannons) THE GIRLFRIEND EFFECT

summary: in which skz start to abandon their old habits after getting a girlfriend, and their fellow members can only watch in stunned horror as love turns these men soft. the girlfriend effect is real. nobody is safe. cw: profanity, just endless fluff and crack, use of she/her pronouns, pls take the humor with a grain of salt <3

chan - the insomniac king was dethroned

bang chan does not sleep. everyone knows that. 

he goes to bed into the next day—3am, 4am, sometimes not at all—and wakes up looking like he’s been in an emotionally toxic relationship with his pillow. it’s a thing. a legend, even. the morning game among the members is always:

“what time do you think chan slept last night?” “over or under 3am?”

so when he walks into morning dance practice looking… rested?

eyes clear. hoodie on straight. skin dewy. shoulders not hunched like a man carrying the weight of three unfinished tracks.

it’s suspicious.

no one’s said it yet, but the members are all thinking the same thing

seungmin narrows his eyes like he’s solving a mystery. then, slowly, he raises a finger and points directly at chan.

“what time,” he begins, voice slow and ominous, “did you sleep last night?”

it’s the sacred question. normally used to roast him. normally answered with some sleep-deprived groan and a “i don’t know, man.” but this time, it comes out… almost reverent. because the idea of bang chan getting a full night’s sleep is no longer a joke—it’s truth.

chan blinks. like he didn’t expect anyone to ask.

“uh…” he rubs the back of his neck, looking oddly sheepish. “y/n was tired. we kinda crashed around midnight.”

midnight.

midnight.

you could hear a pin drop on the dance floor.

jeongin just stares. mouth slightly open. brain buffering.

“you slept... at midnight?” he echoes.

chan shrugs, trying to play it off—but he can’t hide the way his lips twitch like he’s just a little too proud. “yeah, she knocked out so i didn’t want to wake her.”

“s-so you just… fell asleep? did she drug you or something?”

chan just laughs. “nah, i just like being next to her. it’s… easy to fall asleep.”

jeongin looks like he’s witnessing a crime scene. or maybe a miracle. it’s hard to tell.

“he’s broken,” he whispers, still staring. “she’s broken him.”

seungmin doesn’t even blink. he crosses his arms and says, deadpan, “no. she’s fixed him.”

and that day, for the first time in forever, chan doesn’t yawn once.

minho - “don’t touch my ass.”

minho is many things. dancer. cat dad. human embodiment of strange.

but above all?

he’s a butt hunter.

he will grope, slap, poke, and outright ambush the butts of any member foolish enough to turn their back on him. it's not even weird anymore—it's tradition. part of the culture. a stray kids rite of passage.

so when several days go by with no butt activity? suspicion brews.

jisung is the first to notice. obviously. he passes minho in the hallway and flinches out of habit, or trauma—but nothing. not even a threatening twitch.

it’s unsettling. so unsettling, in fact, that jisung decides to take matters into his own hands.

literally.

the next day, backstage at inkigayo, jisung makes his move.

minho’s facing the mirror, fixing his hair. perfect. jisung creeps up behind him like he’s in a nature documentary.

and then—pat. a clean, respectful grab. 

he waits. silence.

minho blinks at his reflection, then turns around slowly. calmly.

then: “don’t touch my ass.”

jisung chokes. “what?”

minho just stares at him. blank. serious. 

“don’t touch my ass,” he repeats, tone calm but final—like he’s scolding a cat for scratching the couch again.

“are you mad at me? jisung sputters. 

that finally gets minho’s full attention. he sighs, and looks up at jisung like he’s explaining something very simple to a very dumb squirrel.

“no. i’m not mad at you,” he says, voice calm. “it’s not about you.”

jisung blinks, confused and still braced for impact. “then what is it?”

minho shrugs, like it’s obvious. “it’s y/n.”

there’s a pause as jisung tries to keep up.

minho sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck. “like… i wouldn’t love it if other people were grabbing my partner’s ass all the time, even as a joke, you know? and yeah, it’s always been just us messing around, but still. she’s my girlfriend. i wanna be consistent.”

jisung stares. “so… you’re retiring from ass play.”

minho gives him a flat look. “don’t call it that.”

jisung holds up both hands, backing off. “okay, okay. sorry. just—wow. that’s actually kind of sweet. and disturbingly mature.”

“you had a good run. but i’m taken now. full package. including the rear.”

jisung almost falls to his knees.

“she’s corrupted you.”

changbin - “i hope you lose your pump.”

changbin is reliable.

rain or shine, comeback or chaos, he goes to the gym.

it’s not a suggestion. it’s not a routine. it’s a spiritual contract with his biceps. if he skips a day, he complains that he can “feel himself shrinking.” if his members skip leg day, he offers to carry them—and their guilt.

so when he’s not at the gym by 10am, it’s weird. when he’s not at the gym by noon? alarming. and when he’s not at the gym at all?

something is deeply wrong.

minho’s the first to text:

you alive or did you get hit by car 

no reply.

by 2pm, some have migrated to the dorms to check on him in person. they knock. no answer. chan tries the handle—unlocked.

and there he is.

changbin. on the couch. blanket over his legs. one arm around you, the other lazily flipping through netflix. a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on his lap.

he looks up. blinks.

“oh, hey,” he mumbles, clearly still half-asleep. “didn’t hear you come in.”

silence.

you offer a small wave from behind the couch. “hi.”

minho squints. 

“where were you?” chan asks, tone sharp like an accusation.

changbin blinks. “sorry?”

“the gym,” minho says, gesturing wildly. 

changbin furrows his brows. “i don’t remember telling you i was going.”

“you never have to tell us,” chan cuts in, clearly distressed. “you always go. we stopped asking you ages ago.”

“you’re the one who made a whole speech about how ‘discipline is showing up even when you don’t feel like it.’” minho scoffs.

you shift under the blanket slightly, sitting up a bit straighter, and speaking up for the first time since the interrogation began.

“i called him over,” you say simply, voice soft but teasing. “sorry none of you have girls asking to spend time with you.”

minho scoffs. 

changbin chuckles beside you, hand up for a high-five. you slap it, grab another handful of popcorn, and lean back with a smile.

chan shakes his head, but his lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile. “can’t even be mad. you look happy.”

“you’ve changed,” minho says solemnly, but really, he’s proud. “i hope you lose your pump.”

changbin grins. “you’re just jealous.”

they probably are.

hyunjin - “she likes me when i'm low-effort.”

hyunjin doesn’t just get ready. he curates.

every outfit is a look. every look has a theme. necklaces. earrings. scarves. a gentle waft of expensive perfume that smells like whispered poetry.

so when he walks out of his room wearing—

sweatpants. a plain white t-shirt. no versace. no rings. no 12-step skincare glow. just lip balm.

his roommate, changbin, nearly drops his protein shake.

“hold still.” he steps in front of the door, arms spread like he’s blocking a crime scene. “are you really going out like that?”

hyunjin blinks. looks down at himself like he forgot what he put on. then shrugs. “yeah. brunch.”

“with who, your bed?”

“y/n.”

silence.

“you’re going out with your girlfriend, hyunjin.” he says slowly, 

hyunjin tilts his head. “she likes me just fine this way.”

changbin gestures wildly. “you’re wearing sweatpants.”

hyunjin shrugs again, utterly unbothered. “they're clean.”

“and the plain white tee?”

“she said i look cute when i’m low-effort.”

changbin groans like he’s being personally attacked. “do you know how hard i tried to look good the last time i saw a girl? i changed outfits four times and still ended up sweating through my shirt.”

hyunjin just smirks, grabbing his phone off the counter before opening the door. “maybe you should’ve tried less.” he adds casually, before stepping out. “bye.”

and all changbin can do is stand there, shaking his head, whispering.

“she’s changed him.” 

han - his ego took a sick day

jisung milks compliments. he churns them into butter. whips them into frosting. lives off the validation like it’s a multivitamin.

in interviews, when asked who's the funniest? “obviously me.”

best-looking? “me, but hyunjin’s close.”

most talented? “it’s me. i wrote this question.”

you’re at the jyp cafeteria, trays clinking, the hum of trainees and staff in the background as you sit shoulder to shoulder with jisung at a corner table, while hyunjin and felix are across from you.

jisung’s rambling about something—probably a dream, possibly a conspiracy—chopsticks waving as he talks through a mouthful of rice. that’s when you notice it.

a tiny scrap of seaweed. clinging to the edge of his lip.

you lean in just a bit, tapping the side of your own mouth. “right there.”

he pauses, tongue darting out instinctively to swipe the spot along with a flick of his eyes up at you like, did i get it?

and somehow… it’s stupidly attractive.

and it hits you—hard and fast and stupid:

“you’re so handsome,” you murmur.

hyunjin and felix immediately stop eating.

the air stills.

felix sets down his spoon with a slow, almost reverent motion.

hyunjin glances at felix. then at you. then at jisung. they both brace for it.

this is the moment where his ego explodes.

he’s about to say something cocky. something ridiculous like "thank you for the unnecessary comment—everyone already knows that."

but none of that happens.

instead?

jisung freezes.

his chopsticks stop mid-air. his lips part slightly, like the words never formed.

felix and hyunjin exchange a slow, stunned glance across the table, like they’re witnessing something rare and possibly mythical.

jisung clears his throat. forces a tiny smile. not his usual smug grin—something smaller. bashful.

you tilt your head, soft and sincere as you repeat. “you’re really handsome.”

he ducks his head slightly, mumbling, “stop,” but there’s no bite in it.

you grin.

that’s when hyunjin leans forward dramatically, hand cupping his mouth. “i didn’t know you were capable of being humble.”

jisung groans, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth just to avoid talking. “shut up.”

hyunjin smirks. “you’re blushing.”

“i am not.”

felix points. “then why are your ears the color of gochujang?”

jisung throws him a look, cheeks puffed full of rice like a chipmunk. he chews dramatically, swallows, and finally mutters—

“god forbid i get a little flustered when my girlfriend compliments me.”

hyunjin groans dramatically, flopping back in his chair. “she softened him. he’s fully simmered.”

felix sighs into his hands. “remember when he used to call himself ‘sex on legs’ and say we were lucky to know him?”

jisung shovels another spoonful of rice into his mouth. “still true,” he mumbles.

he then looks at you—blushing, with a small smile.

felix - "i’m keeping her on her toes.”

felix is a certified cuddle bug.

he initiates first, always. doesn’t matter the time, the place, or the number of witnesses. if you're standing still for more than five seconds? he’s already wrapped around you like a weighted blanket if it had freckles.

he hugs everyone. back hugs. side hugs. full-body collapse hugs. the man radiates affection like it’s photosynthesis—he needs it to live, and he makes sure everyone else gets a dose too.

but ever since he started dating you…you started playing this little game. felix has decided to become your greatest enemy.

you step into the recording studio with a bright smile, holding iced americanos.

only felix, chan, and jisung today. chan looks up from the mixing board, immediately grinning. “oh, legend. thank you.”

jisung’s in the booth, mid-bar, rapping like his life depends on it.

you walk over to felix, who’s perched on the couch, headphones around his neck, scribbling notes in a lyric sheet. you set the tray of drinks down on the little table beside him, lean down, and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

then, naturally, you slide your arms around him in a casual hug.

he doesn’t move.

no returning squeeze. no snuggle into your shoulder. no dramatic gasp and full koala-mode cling. just him—smiling, smug.

smiling, but not hugging back.

you pull back just enough to pout. “felix. not this again.”

chan glances up from his monitor, brows raised. “what are you doing?”

felix turns to him. “she always expects the hugs. i’m trying to keep her on her toes.”

you groan. “we live for the hugs, felix. there are rules.”

“i know.” he winks. “that’s why i break them.”

chan leans back in his chair, eyes wide like he’s seeing felix for the first time. “you’ve… developed self-control.”

you sigh dramatically, still half in his lap. “unfortunately.”

felix scoffs, poking your side. “don’t act like you’re some poor victim. you dodge me all the time!”

you narrow your eyes. “okay, fine. if you wanna play that game… how about neither of us do anything?”

felix leans back like he’s genuinely considering it. “alright. okay. deal.”

a beat passes. one whole second.

then—

he immediately lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. “too late.”

you squeal as he hugs you tight and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, smug and unrepentant.

“felix!” you gasp, laughing. “you lasted one second!”

he grins into your shoulder. “you looked too cute being all serious.”

chan shakes his head from across the room, muttering, “so much for self-control.”

felix shrugs, arms still locked around you. “self-control’s overrated.”

you could only change him so much.

seungmin - no one knows where the savage went

seungmin has the softest little voice. polite. gentle. that kind of light, effortless tone that sounds like it should be used to offer you tea or read bedtime stories. 

but then he opens his mouth and says something like,

“you look like someone who peaked in high school,” with the same tone you'd use to say, have a nice day.

and that’s the seungmin everyone knows—sharp-tongued, savage, and weirdly charming about it. naturally, everyone assumes he’d be the same with a partner. 

you’re sitting with felix and changbin in the practice room when seungmin walks in, sipping his iced tea. he plops down next to you and greets the group with his usual drawl.

as you start unwrapping a protein bar, he eyes it casually and goes, “is that your second one today?”

you nod with a muffled “mhm,” mid-bite.

across from you, changbin freezes—brows raised, lips already curling like he’s bracing for the roast. he’s heard this setup before. he knows seungmin’s usual follow-up. normally, it’s a deadpan jab about how someone eats like a vacuum, or a not-so-subtle fat joke about needing a second lunch just to function. he’s ready.

but instead?

seungmin leans his head slightly toward you, eyes soft. “you like those ones, right? i’ll grab you a couple more next time i’m at the store.”

you blink at him, surprised—but smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “really?”

he nods, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. then reaches over, gives your knee a light pat.

changbin looks offended. “okay, how come you never say stuff like that to me? i’m the one who put her on those protein bars.”

seungmin doesn’t even look up.

“because when you eat, it sounds like a construction site.”

felix loses it, nearly spilling his drink as he doubles over laughing.

changbin gapes, pointing at seungmin. “i chew normally!”

seungmin finally looks up, deadpan. “you breathe heavy before opening a snack.”

you’re gaping at seungmin, caught between shock and laughter. “seungmin.”

he finally cracks—a tiny, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he turns toward you. he opens his mouth just slightly, so, huffing a laugh, you lift the protein bar and hold it up to his mouth.

seungmin bites down on the protein bar, eyes locked on yours—soft, a little smug, but mostly just… fond. like the insult he threw five seconds ago didn’t exist. like you’re the only thing in the room.

felix watches the entire thing unfold from the corner of the couch, straw halfway to his mouth, forgotten.

“somehow,” he mutters to changbin, stunned. “she’s tamed him.”

jeongin - "she's normal"

jeongin is the maknae 💜. and he loves being the maknae.

gets away with things. never has to go first. everyone looks out for him.

but the second one of his members tries to baby him? it’s war.

if hyunjin tries to feed him a spoonful—he glares like he’s been betrayed. if anyone calls him “innie baby”? he files for emotional damages.

he secretly loves the attention, obviously. but he’ll never admit it. not to their faces. not in this lifetime.

so when he walks off stage after the main performance, sweat-damp and glowing, and heads backstage for a breather before the encore, it’s a complete shock when jeongin lets you be touchy. lets you baby him. cause they’ve all tried and failed.

“you did so well, baby,” you say, all soft and proud, hands reaching up to fix the little flyaways at his temple.

even just the pet name “baby” hits the room like a mic drop.

hyunjin physically recoils. 

jeongin just looks at you—shy smile pulling at the corner of his lips—and quietly asks, “you think so?”

you nod immediately. “i know so. you looked amazing out there.”

he blushes, eyes dropping, but he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he leans in a little—like your presence is the calm after the storm.

you cup his cheeks briefly, thumbs brushing just under his eyes. “i’m so proud of you, innie.”

another pet name. another shockwave.

this time, hyunjin can’t help himself. he dramatically stumbles backward like he’s been shot. so of course hyunjin takes it as a challenge.

on his way past, he reaches out and ruffles jeongin’s hair exactly the way he knows jeongin hates—fingers scratchy, deliberately messing it up.

“great job, baby,” hyunjin mocks in a high-pitched voice, grinning.

jeongin flinches immediately.

you laugh, covering your mouth as you watch the chaos unfold.

but hyunjin’s already on a mission.

he swoops in again—arms outstretched for a dramatic hug, lips puckered exaggeratedly as he leans in with a loud, “come here, my innie baby—”

jeongin panics, pushing at his chest with both hands. “get off me!”

hyunjin stumbles back, hand on his heart like he’s been betrayed. “come on! what is this? what does she have that i don’t?”

jeongin doesn’t even hesitate.

“she’s normal,” he deadpans, fixing his hair.

hyunjin staggers like the words physically struck him, hand still pressed to his chest in mock pain.

but jeongin’s already turned back to you—his expression softening, that tiny amused smile curling at his lips. you smile back just as sweetly, eyes crinkling, and he swears his heart does a little somersault.

hyunjin stares, genuinely stunned now, voice low and almost reverent.

“i’m… envious,” he mutters. “you’ve surely done something to him.”

author's note: what if skz did something totally out of character and their members lost their minds over it? i love a man completely changing his personality for a woman. sue me. anyways, thank you for reading this. i really hope you enjoyed it! engagement is appreciated, and feel free to leave some feedback 🫶

[kasagia]

Secret affairs

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x fem!grisha! reader Summary: Rumours and whispers are circulating in the Little Palace that General Kirigan has found himself a mysterious woman with whom he spends his nights. One morning Ivan learns that the rumours are true. Fedyor will not rest until he finds out who their Black General's new lover is—who is the one who makes him much less grumpy. Requested by: @drinix (I AM SOOOO SOOO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME AGES! BUT I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, HONYE!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤) Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

One morning, Aleksander sips his coffee and looks through the reports Ivan has just delivered to his desk. He has a meeting with his colonels in a few minutes, and he's struggling with his lack of sleep. At least this time, he has a better reason to stay up late than answering letters and planning new battle tactics.

He smiles, remembering the night he spent with you. He runs a hand over his jaw, trying to shake the thought of you beneath him. How you trembled at his every little touch, the sweet sounds you made as he struck your most sensitive spots with pinpoint precision, how wonderful you looked sprawled out on the bed, a clean, quivering mess as he tasted you to his liking…

"Forgive me, General, but I can't find your kefta." Ivan's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Aleksander absentmindedly picks up the reports again, knowing full well that he has to read them before he goes to any meetings, and, ignoring Ivan a bit, mumbles under his breath, asking him to repeat what he just said. "I can't find your kefta, sir."

"My kefta?" Aleksander repeats, surprised. Ivan has never had any problems with this simple task before. Suddenly he remembers why his heartrender can't find his keft. "I must have left it at hers." Aleksander mutters under his breath, unaware that he is saying it so loudly that Ivan can hear him.

Heartrender frowns and stares at his general in shock as he casually takes his reports and heads to the main war room for a meeting.

As soon as Ivan enters the room, he meets the questioning gaze of his beloved. Feydor immediately notices how pale and nervous Ivan has become and that his heart is beating a little faster. He decides to ask him what happened. And a few hours later, Ivan confirms to Feydor the rumours that have been circulating in the Little Palace.

General Kirigan had a secret affair.

"I can't believe it! Him?" Alina's whisper reaches you as you sit down at the table right next to Fedyor.

"Who are we gossiping about? The healer who almost broke a bone in one of the Inferni yesterday while so-called healing?"

"No. Ivan couldn't find the general's kefta this morning. And when he told him, he mumbled that he must have left it at HERS. Do you understand? At HERS. HER. SHE. A WOMAN."

"Yes, Fedyor. I understood at first time when you said it." You laugh at his excitement about this new rumour.

"No you don't! You don't know what it means if you are not at least as interested and excited as me or Alina." Fedyor informs you in a very serious way.

You roll your eyes at his foolish behaviour and looks at Aleksander who is coming into the great hall. In his black kefta.

"No way! It must be someone from the Little Palace! Look at him, he is wearing it now! Someone had to give it to him." Fedyor whispers conspiratorially to the three of you, staring at the general.

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused when the man quickly feigns interest in his food as Aleksander's gaze falls on the three of you. He nods at you and leaves the room.

"Sorry, duties." You say and take an apple from the table. "Try not to interrogate everyone around you about the general's new beloved. She may get embarrassed or scared and leave him and he'll become a pain in our asses again." You tease him and leave him and Alina to discuss this new revelation.

You walk quickly through the hallway of the Little Palace, practically running after Aleksander. You burst into his war room and before you can say a word, his lips are on yours.

You moan softly, surprised by the suddenness of his kiss. You tangle your hands in his hair and hum against his mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pinning you against the door. You’re breathless as he practically devours you, drinking in all your moans and whimpers of pleasure as his large, strong hands caress the cheeks of your ass.

"I was thinking about it since I left your side." He mumbles, pressing small kisses to your jaw. You sigh, digging your hands into the collar of his kefta and pushing him away from you with a heavy heart, but you have to get the message across to him before you get lost in each other again.

"You have to be more careful. Fedyor got something out of Ivan and knows you have a mistress."

"So you are my secret mistress now?" He asks, chuckling against your neck. You bite your lip as his beard teasingly grazes your neck, plump lips nipping at your skin.

"Call me that again and you will be comming back from my chamber to yours all naked." You growl, but your threat carries little fear as Aleksander begins to unbutton your own kefta.

"You wouldn't dare..." He mumbles against your skin and all you can do is tug on his hair in retaliation as he traces his marks across your collarbone and moves lower, approaching the valley between your breasts.

"So sure?" You gasp, trying your best to remain intimidate to him, but it is a challenge when his fingers work so smoothly in undressing you.

"Uh-huh." He mumbles and kisses you again, this time more forcefully than last time, making your legs buckle slightly. He holds you tightly by the waist and lifts you up, navigating through his room and laying you on his bed, which is filled with books.

"I... um... sorry. I should have cleaned up here." He mumbles to himself and throws the books to the floor in his haste. You laugh at him and grab his arm.

"I don't mind... besides it will be quite hard to explain why you suddenly clean your rooms without any suspicion about this new lover of yours." You tease him with a smirk, but he doesn't seem to share your good humour at all.

He's lost in thought, stroking your cheek with his thumb thoughtfully and not responding to your teasing, just staring at you sprawled beneath him, shadows slowly creeping out of his control and draping over the foot of the bed.

"Shouldn't we... make this official?" He asks, staring at you with those night-dark eyes of his. You shiver, surprised by his question.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat and control your slight panic attack as he continues to stare at you, waiting patiently waiting for your answer and searching your face carefully for any reaction.

"What for? That's... quite a comfortable... deal we are in. Besides, I don't want them to talk that I am your second-in-command just because I slept with you. And I thought you liked that our relationship is strictly private and well... not to anyone's eyes?"

"Yeah... yeah, I do. You probably are right. Having you in the darkness is much more entertaining than in the daylight."

You know from the way he frowns slightly that this isn't the answer he was expecting. But if anything, Aleksander is a pathological people-pleaser. So he doesn't say anything about his true feelings about the secrecy of your relationship and instead leans in for a kiss.

Which subconsciously makes you feel incredibly guilty.

"Come here... let me help you relax, moi soverenyi." You moan against his lips and straddle him, deciding that this afternoon you will serve your general.

But no matter how many kisses you press into his skin, how many marks you leave, or how many times you make him moan your name, you still feel a burning feeling of guilt inside.

You try with all your might to focus your attention solely on giving him as much pleasure as possible, but your thoughts involuntarily wander to his proposal. You weren't ready to show the two of you to the world yet. You weren't ready for the judgemental looks from others. You'd rather everything stay the way it was. Just you and Aleksander, your little secret, stole kisses and nights between each other's sheets.

You were completely happy with that. But as you can see, your Sasha wanted more.

And you weren't entirely sure if you could give it to him now.

You wake up blissfully aching. Aleksander's shadows float across his bedroom, obscuring the entire room, blocking out any sunlight. You turn your gaze to the man whose chest your head rests on.

You smile, watching the sleeping shadow summoner. It's rare to see him so... calm, rested. Unable to stop yourself, you run your hand along the line of his jaw and gently cup his bearded cheek. You stroke it with your thumb, drinking in his appearance, enjoying every tiny hickey you've left on him.

You lean down and kiss him sweetly, slowly, unhurriedly, enjoying the softness of his lips and the roughness of his beard. Kissing him had always been a surreal feeling for you. Sometimes you couldn't believe that you could actually press your lips against his and declare your claim to the most powerful Grisha that existed.

You feel him start to wake up as the kiss continues. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly by the waist, rolling you so you're straddling him as he kisses you passionately, hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, feeling his manhood press against you as if last night hadn't worn him out.

You run your hands over his chest and slowly settle yourself on him. You sigh as the head of his cock slowly opens your soaked walls. It feels so good and so damn full, as you settle yourself completely on him, as you become one. You bite your lip and hold your breath as he sits up, wrapping his arms around you tightly, digging his fingers into your back.

"Y/N..." He murmurs into your ear and kisses his lobe. You sigh, feeling him perfectly fill every little space of you.

"Morning." You gasp as he pushes you onto your back, hovering over you. He sucks hickies on your neck, mumbling quiet good mornings against your skin as he lazily thrusts into you.

You wriggle and moan beneath him, trying to press yourself as close to him as you can. There’s no space between you as he claims you with every thrust, destroying you for any other man. You sigh as he presses his lips to yours, kissing you possessively, stealing your breath with each deep, hard thrust into you.

He trails his kisses down your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he caresses your lips. You moan his name loudly as he suddenly sucks onto your breast.

He smiles evilly against your skin. Aleksander revels in the way you dig your nails into his shoulders as he works tirelessly to please you. He loved seeing you like this. Hair tousled against his black sheets, eyes closed from the rush of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet moan of his name when all you could think about was him. That was when you felt truly his. And it was a pleasant change for him to know that someone belonged to him, that he owned someone. It was just a shame he couldn't claim you in the sunlight as well.

A sudden movement in the war room makes you both freeze. Aleksander stares at his bedroom door and instinctively raises his shadows, causing them to wrap around the two of you defensively.

"General, we got a report from the west border with Fjerda..." Fedyor's voice trails off in the realization as the heartrender realizes he hears two heartbeats in Darkling's bedroom. Two fast heartbeats. "I... um... should I come later?"

"Preferably." Your lover responds, still on his guard.

You listen for Fedyor's footsteps and sigh in relief as he walks away. You laugh uncontrollably, which earns a soft chuckle from Aleksander. His heart heats up as he watches fondly as you laugh beneath him at the absurdity of the situation.

"Oh my dear saints. He's going to be so determined to find out who you're hiding under the sheets."

"Yes... probably." He replies. You frown thoughtfully, but you quickly distract yourself when he moves again. You moan, biting your lower lip and digging your fingers into his arm as he reaches deep, hitting that weak spot inside you that sends tingles throughout your body. "But you'll manage, right, milaya?"

You nodded, unable to utter any coherent sounds. He smiles pure evil and continues to pound into you at a punishing, rapid pace. You bite your lip, almost drawing blood as you try not to moan his name too loudly in the darkness of his chambers.

Yep... you definitely loved your stolen mornings with him.

A few hours later, you smile to yourself as you pack your things. Due to suspicious activity by the Fjerdans on the border, Aleksander decided to go and see for himself what was going on. You were supposed to be on the lookout for Morozova's stag.

Despite the sudden events of today, you couldn't just forget about the morning spent with him. The thought of it made you blush, and a smile appeared on your lips. Lost in thoughts about the shadow summoner, you didn't even register when Zoya entered your room with a packed backpack.

"Oh saints, you had sex!" You jump suddenly at her excited squeal and stare at her like a deer caught in the light of a hunter's torch.

"I beg you pardon?"

"You had sex! You're glowing, relaxed, and oh my, you're blushing like a teenager! Who's that? Do I know him? Handsome? What order is he from? Or maybe it is she?" She bombards you with excited questions. You hide your face in your hands, not wanting to watch her wicked smile as she settles on your bed, staring at you intently.

"I... have no idea what are you talking about."

Before you can somehow defend yourself from her accusations, you are interrupted by a knock on your door. Fedyor enters with his things, all excited, with Ivan hot on his heels.

"Y/N, you won't believe it! He really does have someone! You have to tell me if you saw anyone in the corridors leading to his quarters last night when you were leaving his chambers after the night briefing. Remember every detail, I need to know everything."

"Y/N had sex with some mysterious lover." Zoya briefs Fedyor before either of you can add anything to the man's long rant.

Ivan raises a surprised eyebrow at you, silently analysing the information in his head. You see the gears turning in his head, and as he connects the dots—as Alexander's closest confidant after you—he blushes. You shake your head slightly, staring at him as Fedyor and Zoya exchange gossip. He swallows and nods silently. You note it as a problem for later and turn your gaze to the two excitedly gossiping Grisha.

"I can't believe it! You too?! Who is it?! With your busy schedule with Kirigan, I didn't think I'd have time to find anyone, but here you are. Is it that handsome inferni? The one who's going on the mission with us and has been hanging around you for ages?"

"I… would prefer to keep my… boyfriend's privacy for now. It's a quite new thing, we're… testing if we're a good fit." You stammer, explaining yourself, knowing full well that you can't deny these two for long. They would have known the truth anyway. You're terrified of the moment when they realize that you and Aleksander are something more.

"Oh, I understand that perfectly. Ivan and I went through the same thing, right, honey?"

"Yeah..." Ivan mumbles thoughtfully and continues to stare at you in shock. However, Fedyor is too lost in his conspiracy theory to pay attention to his significant other's behavior. For which you silently thank the saints above.

Eventually, you all gather up and head for the stables. Zoya and Fedyor mumble something to each other in the front, and you and Ivan follow. You decide that this is a good time to approach him and ask for discretion.

"You know, don't you?" Ivan stares at you for a moment, then nods silently. You swallow hard, nervously playing with the sleeve of your kefta. “Listen… can we keep this between us? I… I doubt it’s a good idea to talk about all this now. He doesn't need to have such rumours running about us in the Little Palace."

Ivan nods at you, agreeing with your words. But you can see that something is bothering him. For a moment he grits his teeth in silence, but then he mumbles under his breath, barely audible.

"He seems… less tense. Less worried." You blush along with him. You clear your throat and turn your gaze to the walls of the corridors you pass, thinking of a… neutral response to his observation.

"I... I guess he is."

"I think… I want to say… it's good that he has you." You look at him in surprise, almost tripping on the exit steps as he says this. The blush deepens on your cheeks as you think about what he told you. "Everyone needs their own Fedyor."

You smile, seeing his gaze on his other half. And perhaps for the first time you see that they actually fit together, and Ivan is worthy of your best friend. You wonder involuntarily if Aleksander looks at you like that when you don't see...

"Yeah... I think you are right. Thank you, Ivan. You are a good friend. For both of us. Well, mostly to him." You say, referring to Aleksander. Ivan nods in silent agreement.

This strange harmony between you seems to be going strong. You are united by one goal. The good of your shadow summoner.

The four of you reach the stables. Alexei - the inferni, who as Fedyor mentioned was supposed to join your mission and had a crush on you quite openly, runs up to you quickly. But your eyes and attention are focused only on the general. Or rather, on the general and his sun summoner, as other Grishas maliciously called it.

Your blood boils, a strange feeling of jealousy hits you like a hunter's shotgun hits an animal, and you can't even do anything about it as Alina is clearly flirting with him. All you can do is stand there and try to swallow the bile of jealousy with dignity as Alina adjusts the collar of Aleksander's kefta. He somehow senses your burning gaze on him, but you quickly turn away and mount your horse without even waiting for his reaction.

He's lucky you're not official yet. And that it'll be hours before you can calm down before you can talk to him in private. But you're starting to understand why keeping your relationship a secret no longer works for the Black General. Especially when you see the way his jaw clenches when you laugh at some joke of Alexei's, causing the young inferni to give you lovey-dovey puppy eyes, to which you wink back.

You may have been cruel, but the knowledge that your lover was as jealous of you as you were of him calmed you down a bit and lifted your spirits. And if by any chance you made sure that Alina rode with you and away from Aleksander during the journey, that wasn't intentional at all. Not at all.

"So... Ivan knows." Aleksander comments as you lay in his tent, wrapped in his arms.

Ivan stood guard over your small camp while the rest slept. You decided to take the opportunity to sneak in on your shadow summoner to share the revelation. And maybe just a little to steal a few kisses and hugs from him.

"Indeed." You mumble, playing with his fingers that are slowly dripping shadows.

You bring one of his fingertips to your lips and press a small kiss there, which makes Aleksander's heart melt even more for you. He tightens his grip around you and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head before resting his bearded cheek on it with a small sigh.

"Well... sonner or later Fedyor will figure it out too. It's just the matter of time."

"Maybe... that's why I want to enjoy you in privacy for as long as I can." You prop yourself up on your elbow and lean in to steal a quick kiss. You pull away from him with a smile, but you frown, not finding any of the malice in his eyes that he would normally have at this gesture. Something was wrong.

"Y/N... Don't you think that's enough? We've been going around each other for a long time. I think the rest should know about us." A cold shiver runs through you at his words.

You try to control your heartbeat, but you know perfectly well that you are no longer able to hide your emotions from him so well. He knew you as well as you knew him.

He knew that you were not exactly keen on making your relationship public. That is why you cannot lie and pretend that it is not so. You have to convince him to change his mind somehow... but how?

"But it's so sexy to have you all to myself, a secret from everyone. Don't you love the thrill every time we sneak around each other for a kiss or something more?"

"I like that. But I don't like that I can't hold your hand outside the four walls of our chambers. I don't like that I can't go up to you and kiss you when you look so lovely after training with Fedyor or Zoya. I don't like that I have to watch others flirt with you and touch what's mine. I don't like that I can't make your cheeks blush in front of others. I don't like that I can't look at you for as long as I want without suspicion. I don't like that I can't play with your hair during particularly boring council meetings. I don't like that I have to hide the fact that I love you."

His confession hits you harder than any punch Baghra had ever given you during training. You swallow hard and kneel down next to him, watching him carefully as you try to process what he’d just told you.

"You... love me?"

"I do. And if it is not enough for you to make it public... I don't know if I can go on like this anymore. I don't know if I can keep my trembling hands from reaching for you in the light of day, not just in the darkness of night or my shadows. I need more. I need all of you, Y/N."

You stare at him, utterly shocked by his sudden confession. His words both overwhelm you and warm your heart, but it's not enough to quell the panic rising within you.

Because as much as you want to be his, as much as you want him to be yours, you know that the members of the Second Army won't look so... favourably on your romance. Besides the public opinion... you're afraid that once the thrill of excitement and mystery wears off, Aleksander's feelings for you will fade dramatically and he'll realise that you're not a good match at all and that Alina would be a better choice for him.

"I... it's hard for me... to give you an answer now." You mumble, watching anxiously as his brow furrows, face darkening as he retreats back into his shell and tries to hide his true emotions from you.

"I thought it should be easy. You either want me or not."

"I want you." You respond quickly, reaching out for his arm in panic and holding it in a tight, almost bruising grip. The desperation on your face makes Aleksander sigh with relief inside. You cared. That was for sure. So why do you hesitate for so long and postpone the inevitable?

"Then why do you insist on keeping us hidden?"

You don't answer. You know he'll think your uncertainty about his feelings is baseless and pointless. You think it's stupid. But you can't escape the overwhelming feeling that the moment your romance stops being a tightrope, his feelings for you will burn out like a candle. And you really wanted to keep him by your side.

Your silence, however, is not what he wants. Or something that could help you stop him. He nods silently and stands up from your makeshift bed of blankets.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside. I'll take guard duty for Ivan." He replies emotionlessly. You swallow nervously and sit up, following him with your eyes as he puts on his black coat as he is giving you a cold arm.

"Aleksander." You whisper with a pained tone in your voice. He stops for a moment and gives you a long, haunted look. He sighs and shakes his head at your silence and walks out of the tent, leaving you alone.

The lump in your throat grows and tears well up in your eyes. You close your eyelids and lift your head, taking a few calming breaths. You fucked this up. Not for the first time, but this time you really hoped you wouldn't get cold feet and that you'd somehow stifle that little voice in your head that had always questioned your worth.

Because you felt you weren't worthy of Aleksander. Yet for some twisted reason he thought you were perfect for him. Maybe this time you should take a chance and trust him? Trust that at the end of the day he'll decide you're enough and that you don't have to be a Sun Summoner to be his equal?

After a while, you stand up unsteadily and walk to the tent flap. You glance through it and freeze when you see Alina and Aleksander talking quietly by the fire. She says something to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, but instead of moving away from her touch, he seems to cling to her and answers her with one of those smiles that make your knees weak. You feel a painful stab in your heart. As if scalded, you jump away from the tent flap and lie back down in the pile of blankets.

You bury your nose in the material that has soaked in the scent of the Shadow Summoner and close your eyes as tears freely flow down your cheek and soak into the black fur. A hundred dark thoughts, doubts, and different scenarios in which Aleksander leaves you for Alina go through your head, and to be completely honest, you don't blame him. She was a real sun. How could you possibly compare to her? You were stupid and naive to think that he would stick to you when he could have her.

The only comfort you find is that at the end of your crying, when you had no more tears to shed and were only shaking uncontrollably, Alexander came back. He came back and practically silently laid down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest, burying his nose in your hair. He sighed quietly and ran his thumb over your waist, holding you so tightly as if you were the most important thing in his life, and he couldn't let you slip through his fingers.

You don't make a move, don't give any sign that you're awake. You spend the rest of the night half-awake as you try to memorize the way Aleksander holds you, the way he still wants to come back to your bed at night.

Because something tells you that this state of affairs won't last long.

"Just as I thought, you look adorable even after a week of horseback riding and searching for a group of Drüskelle." Alexei compliments you as you and Zoya return to camp after scouting. You let out an uncontrollable laugh at this, amused by the absurdity of his flirting, and join the group sitting around the campfire.

"It's a pity I can't say the same about you." You say spitefully and accept from Aleksander, who is sitting next to you, a stick with a fish that Fedyor and Alina had caught earlier. Aleksander takes another stick with a raw fish and starts roasting it again. Everyone else laughs at your remark, even Alexei.

"You'll see, one day I will melt your cold heart." You roll your eyes at this. Zoya, sitting next to you, hits your arm in amusement.

"Come on, Y/N. Tell us about this secret lover of yours. Maybe it will cool Alexei's ardor."

Fedyor perks up at Zoya's words and nods enthusiastically, while Aleksander, sitting next to you, tenses slightly. You see that his knuckles have been clenching around the stick since Alexei began his flirtation with you. You fear his further reaction to this conversation, which is heading in a rather dangerous direction.

"You have a lover?! Who beat me to it?" Everyone around you laughs at the exaggeratedly hurt tone of Inferni's voice and the way he dramatically aimed his fishing rod at you. You smile involuntarily and shake your head, trying your best to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks.

"Thanks for your concern, or rather curiosity, but my lover and I would rather keep our privacy. Besides, I can't talk about him left and right without his consent."

"Maybe it wouldn't bother him at all?" Aleksander comments, not looking at you, instead focussing his attention on the fish in the fire. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest when he won't even look at you. The bitter feeling of guilt resurfaces within you, and you wonder how the hell you're supposed to fix what you've broken.

"Exactly! I don't care what you want, I wanna meet this guy who is the best sex you've ever had!" Zoya comments, practically making you choke on your own saliva and freeze in embarrassment.

Everyone around the fire is laughing at this and asking you snide questions about your mystery lover's… prowess. You glance briefly at Alexander and almost punch him in the arm when a smug, dark smile appears on his face. And from the mischievous glint in his eyes, you know he'll only put the final nail in the coffin of your embarrassment.

"The best sex you've ever had, you say?" He asks, amused, raising an eyebrow at you. You bite your lower lip and slam your shoulder into his, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall over the log. He laughs at your feeble attempt at attacking him.

"Oh, piss off." You snap at him but he just reaches over and ruffles your hair with his hand. It's only the deafening silence around you that makes you realize you've done something… wrong.

Everyone stares at Aleksander in shock, as if waiting for him to yell at you for overstepping his bounds, but he doesn't. You see genuine shock and surprise on their faces. Before your general can say anything, you take over, trying to save the day.

"What? Haven't you ever seen two good friends banter?" You sneer at them and nod at their sticks. "Your food will burn if you sit there with your mouths open and stare at us much longer."

Somehow your words disenchant them. They go back to their usual joking, teasing demeanour, and the camp buzzes with their conversations again. You glance at Aleksander, and you can see from his face that he doesn't like the way you've handled this. You know this was the perfect opportunity to admit you're together, but after what you saw last night—the way he acted with Alina—you got too scared to tell them. If they all didn't know you were together, maybe his inevitable departure would hurt less?

You flinch as your secret lover sitting next to you suddenly takes the stick with the fish out of your hands.

"You'll burn it if you stay in your tangled thoughts any longer." He grumbles and takes the fish off the stick. You see he's completely abandoned his in favor of preparing your meal. You nod with a smile as he hands you a slice of bread and seasons the fish with the spices you brought with you.

Unconsciously to you, someone's eyes are watching the two of you closely.

Aleksander thrusts the food under your nose. You instinctively lean forward and bite into the offered sandwich, used to him feeding you, most often in the late hours of the night, when you both sit in the war room and spend time planning new tactics. You glance around quickly, but fortunately the others are too busy with themselves to notice. Or so you think.

"You're going to burn your own fish." You notice and take your food from him.

He's holding his stick back, and you decide to give him a bite of his before he gets his food. After all, he practically made you yours. You make sure no one notices and feed Alexander. He hums and brushes his lips against your fingertips before licking them teasingly. You sigh and punch him in the arm, to which he just grins wolfishly at you and winks.

You feel warm just from your playful exchange. And as the darkness grows deeper, you reach for Aleksander's hand and hold it tightly, shielding it with the hem of your coat. You smooth your thumb over the back of his hand, laughing at the stories Zoya tells. Aleksander seems much less tense, and a little satisfied, when you hold his hand tightly in yours.

And while you think no one has noticed, they have. Or at least one of them has.

At some point, Aleksander gives you his coat, insisting in a quiet conversation between you that you'll freeze and get sick if you don't take it and that he'll be fine because he's survived winters much worse than this one, and with much thinner clothing.

Your heart aches that he's had such an experience, but for the sake of peace, you take the black coat from him. You blush when he whispers that when he gets back, he'll make sure David makes you one that matches his, so everyone knows you're his.

And when he presses his lips to your forehead to check that your body temperature isn't too low for his liking, Fedyor awkwardly reveals that he's been watching you.

"Saints, Fedyor!" Alina squeaks in panic as the heartrender somehow loses his balance on the log and almost falls into the fire.

He hadn't leaned any closer to hear what you were whispering, and he hadn't nearly fallen into the fire in shock when he was the only one to notice their general's affectionate treatment of you. Not at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him worriedly and kneel down next to him.

Fedyor swallows, trying hard not to show that he noticed the way Kirigan's gaze softens when he looks at you. He was such an idiot. How could he not have noticed that before?

"Yeah... yeah, I am fine. I should probably just go to sleep. Ivan?" Fedyor calls his beloved.

He helps him up and leads him to their tent. Before he can ask even one question about his well-being, Fedyor blurts out:

"Did you notice that Y/N and general are... very close?" Ivan at first seems not to react to his words. Fedyor only realises, through the very slight acceleration of his heartbeat, that perhaps his partner knows something more about... the unexpected connection between his best friend and the Black General. "Ivan... do you know what I think you know?"

"What do you think you know?" Ivan clears his throat awkwardly as they both enter their tent.

"Oh saints, you know right?! How long?! Was it that obvious?!"

Fedyor's mind flashes back to a million moments when your feelings for each other were painfully obvious. He remembers how Kirigan would let you playfully tease him, how he would always make sure you weren't overworking yourself and were eating the right amount of meals, and how he would look after your well-being. Hell, the general even delayed your trip to the fold because you were sick with a cold from your recent trip to Kertch! And he had behaved like a jilted, angry, resentful lover during those months! It was so painfully obvious that Kirigan was head over heels in love with you... but were you? Or was it just a passing fling? Fedyor had to know more.

"That's why we shouldn't get involved and let them decide for themselves… Fedyor, honey, where are you going?" Ivan asks confused as his other half runs out of the tent.

Fedyor throws a quick see you later over his shoulder and runs to your tent hoping to find you there so he can have a serious talk with you.

And fortunately he succeeds.

"You told Ivan, and you didn't tell me?! I am your best friend!" Fedyor shouts at the entrance to your tent. You stare at him, holding the report the falcon just delivered to you in your hands, as you are trying to understand what he means. You blush as you realise what he could be so angry about.

"I… since when did you…"

"Oh please. You've obviously been like this the whole time. I'm a fool for not making the connection. It's literally written all over his face that he loves you. What about you?" Fedyor sits on your blankets. Your palms are sweating and you put the reports on the ground, wondering how the hell you're going to get out of this situation now.

"I… it's complicated."

"Love is quite complicated. Maybe that's why you gave Alina a deadly look a few days ago when she was practicing her powers with the general? And you snapped at her, giving her a completely traumatic tantrum when she lost her sword?"

"I… it wasn't intentional and you know it." You mumble, blushing even more, but this time with embarrassment.

"It's a simple question Y/N. You either feel it or you don't. And from what I see, you probably also… reciprocate. Although it's clear that he fell much harder."

"You think?" You ask with a smirk, unable to help yourself at his comment. Fedyor nods and stands up. He walks over to the shadow and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Yes. And believe me, I don't blame him. If I didn't play for the same team, or didn't have similar tastes as you, it would be really hard for me not to fall in love with you."

"Yeah, I know. We'd be a great couple if you weren't gay." You laugh at him and pull him into a hug. "But don't tell Ivan or Kirigan that."

"Sure. We don't want to upset our grumps, do we?"

Your laughter is the first thing Aleksander hears as he approaches your tent. He opens the flap with one finger and sees you standing in Fedyor's arms, laughing. A cry of jealousy and a sudden need to take you in his arms and hide you from the other man pierce his mind for a moment, but he calms down, reminding himself that Fedyor... is no threat to him. At least not romantically.

"Can I interrupt?" He asks and goes inside. You step away from Fedyor and nod at him.

Fedyor nods at him and leaves, throwing you a mischievous wink over his shoulder. Alexander notices this and connects the dots rather quickly. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. He plants a kiss on your forehead, then rests his chin on your shoulder.

"So I guess he knows?"

His hot whisper against your ear makes you shiver. You burrow your face into his chest, nuzzling his neck as you wrap your arms around him in an equally tight embrace. Maybe Fedyor is right? Maybe when you know… you just know?

"Yeah... At this rate soon the entire Little Palace will know."

"Do you mind?" He asks uncertainly, expecting his words to hang in the air and for it to take you a while to respond with another excuse.

But you decide to bet on the truth. Show him all your cards and the same vulnerability he has for you. It was going to be everything or nothing and you knew you couldn't put it off for long. Not if you didn't want to lose him.

"Partly. I... I am afraid that once it will stop being a secret affair you will... loose your interest in me. I mean... look at me. I am not Alina." You laugh nervously and try to hide your face in his black kefta. Aleksander is not having that. He gently takes your middle and forces you to look into his dark, beautiful eyes.

"I don't want you to be Alina. I don't want you to be anything else but you, Y/N. I love you as you are. Heartrender, healer, sun summoner, inferni or whatever else, I don't care. I care about you. The way you make me feel. The way you hold me. The way you kiss me. I want you for what you really are. Not for the power you hold. Not for anything other than you."

You can barely hold back the tears in your eyes. Instead, you just nod and lean in to kiss him softly. You melt, as always, at the softness of his lips, the way he gently cups your cheeks in his hands and holds you like you're the most important thing in his life, like he can never afford to lose you. And you hope it stays that way forever.

"You damn manipulator how can I say no after that?" You gasp as the kiss ends and he rests his forehead against yours. He chuckles deeply and envelops you in the tight, warm, safe embrace of his arms.

"You can't." He mumbles against your temple and places a tender kiss there. "You are all mine. As I am yours, milaya."

And you have to say, his words have never felt more true, as he kisses you with a passion unlike any other men. You only hope that he secretly draws 'mine' on your skin for the rest of your life… not just in his shadows and the darkness of the night.

[ume17]

Back to school- Kuroo x fem! reader

genre; pure fluff

words- 0.6k

these lovely dividers are by @thecutestgrotto

warning: none. grammar mistakes, I'll edit once I've slept enough :(

Your husband has been acting a bit weird this past week. Notes everywhere, cheeks heating up, quiet mumbles. something is up. wait what- he has a crush on you?

You knew your husband was a dork. All those years of high school, teenage years, when you were dating—when you weren’t—just proved how big of a sap he is.

But lately, something was off.

Not in a bad way—if anything, it was sweet—but it was... odd. The sudden blushes when you kissed his cheek. The meek little "thank you" when you handed him his lunch. The way his face lit up whenever you called him your husband. And the notes—so many notes—stuck on your fridge, your nightstand, even your laptop.

Kuroo had always been a loving husband—the kind to bring you breakfast in bed on his day off, surprise you with flowers, and wrap you in his arms like a human koala whenever he got the chance. But this? This past week? It’s like you’re back in high school.

In fact, he wasn’t even this shy back then. The playful banter to make you think he didn’t like you, the teasing—it was all normal. So, this? This surely left you wondering. You would have thought he lost a bet had it not been those lovesick eyes of his. But that doesn't mean you'll leave this as is. Something is definitely up.

instance 1:

"Hey, can you open this?"

"Sure."

Smooch.

"Thanks." A kiss lands on your target's right cheek, which immediately turns abnormally red as he mumbles, "No problem!" he squeaks, speed walking out of the room.

This again?

instance 2:

The time you caught him staring at you in the morning before work.

"Take a picture; it lasts longer."

His eyes widen like you just caught him committing a crime. "I wasn’t staring."

You raise a brow. "Oh? So you just happened to be awake before me, watching me sleep, and then turning beet red when I open my eyes?"

Kuroo groans and buries his face in the pillow. "Let me have this."

You grin.

Oh, you were definitely going to make this worth while.

You considered letting it slide for a while, just to see how far it would go. Turns out? a whole long week more.

One lazy Wednesday afternoon, with nothing better to do, you’re curled up on the couch together, Kuroo’s face buried in the crook of your neck. The aircon is on- his warm body on you when he sighs against your skin and mumbles,

"I think I’ve got a crush on you."

Your heart skips.

You blink. "What?"

His head tilts up slightly, lips brushing your collarbone. A barely audible heavy sigh later . "I’ve got a crush on you."

You pull back to look at him properly. "You." A chuckle escapes you. "You? You have a crush on me? Your wife of three years?"

"Uh-huh." His expression is painfully sincere. "Have you seen yourself lately? The way you take down those fuzzy crawlers—"

"Spiders?"

"Yeah, those demons. And the way you haul all the groceries in one trip? And how you completely shut down Mamiya-san when he was being an ass to Yukito-kun?"

You squint. "And that made you fall in love with me again?"

"How does that not play into it? You’re unfairly attractive, and I am but a weak, foolish old man caught in your spell."

Chuckling, you pull him in a hug as a not so small smile spreads on your face.

"So that’s what the notes and flowers were for." You pause, grinning. "So what will you do now, Mr. Infatuated Rooster?"

He puffs out his chest. "Woo you back, obviously. Can’t let someone snatch you away from this old man."

His bravado should be ridiculous, but then he adds, softer this time—"You’re going to be with me till my last breath… and the life after."

Your breath catches.

Heat rises to your cheeks, your heartbeat stuttering in your chest as you only nod.

Maybe you’ll be the one with a crush next.

Forgot to tag: thank you @dira333 for the spider and grocery idea 😭

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞

Caleb

Pairing: Caleb x f!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Smut, Friends with Benefits, Vaginal Sex, Oral (f. receiving), Angst

Caleb allowed himself to lose himself inside you in every aspect, and now he must pay the price. He can either take what you give him or end everything once and for all. The decision wouldn't be so complex if he wasn't in too deep. He's already completely and utterly in love with you, and he can't keep hiding it. He risks losing everything you share, but that risk might be worth it.

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Caleb tries not to make it obvious. Not to you, not to anyone. But it’s hard to hide the lovesick look in his eyes whenever he looks at you. Your friends are starting to notice something is up with him. Caleb has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.

You warned him to keep it under wraps, you don’t want rumors in the friend group to spread. The way he looks at you whenever you’re in public is a dead giveaway. Caleb is in love with you and he can’t hide it anymore– It’s obvious to everyone, except you. You just think that he looks at you with lust. He has that look of pure unadulterated need whenever he stares at you.

It used to be like that in the beginning, but something has changed and you haven’t noticed. Truthfully, Caleb hasn’t noticed himself. He just stares at the ceiling, unable to sleep because all he can think about is you. His heart is about to beat out of his chest, his body getting warm as that fuzzy feeling consumes him. Lately all he thinks about is you. 

Tonight is one of those nights where he tosses and turns, the only thought in his mind being a future with you. He doesn't even know where these foolish thoughts came from. Your friendship makes the thoughts worse, that he knows.

He hates his mind. He should be sleeping when all he can think about is building a future with you. Marriage, kids, white picket fence in the suburbs– The whole nine yards. They’re dreams that he’s never had before, but suddenly it’s all he wants. Whenever he shuts his eyes he envisions this future that he knows he’ll never have, and that’s why he can’t sleep. 

But eventually he gets drowsy as he thinks of a possible life with you. His lips move involuntarily, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he begins to dream about an unforeseeable future. He begins to succumb to his slumber until his eyes snap wide awake as his phone rings. Groggily, he picks his phone up to see what it is.

Great, he’s been added to a dumb groupchat. He’s back at square one because of a dumbass. He ends up turning off his phone, turning on his side to try and sleep again.

The moment he shuts his eyes, the same thoughts flash through his mind. That same smile appears on his face, and he goes to sleep thinking of one thing: a future with you.

“Caleb– It’s too much!” You moan as his nails dig into your skin while he thrusts in and out of you. Your back arches, eyes rolling back of your head as Caleb hits every right spot. Your face buries into the mattress, drowning out the oh so loud moans that escape your lips. 

Caleb is in a trance, watching your ass move with his every thrust. He throws his head back, moaning your name as you begin to meet his thrusts halfway. It takes everything in him to not lose control immediately. He slaps your ass before saying, “You can handle it, pretty girl.”

You moan out his name, feeling as pleasure consumes you. With every movement you’re one step closer to your release, and you don’t know how much longer you’ll last considering you’re on the edge. Caleb feels it as you squeeze around him, and as your voice gets whinier and louder. 

“You’re doing so good.” He praises, watching as your hands grip the bed sheets. You’re making a mess all over him, moaning his name over and over again. It’s the sweetest sound that has ever grazed his ears.

“Fuck– Fuck!” You moan, sounds that are luckily muffled by the mattress. Caleb can just picture the look on your face as it contorts with pleasure. The thought alone works him up, but he has to contain himself.

“I’m gonna–” You can’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm washes over you, completely fogging your train of thought. He’s praising you, words that fall on deaf ears. Your mind is too hazy for them to process.

It doesn’t take too much for him to slowly lose control, thrusts getting unregulated. Caleb  doesn’t want it to end so soon, especially when he knows you have an early night. But there’s not much he can do but get lost in the moment. Your name escapes his lips, nails digging into your skin hard enough that he can nearly draw blood. 

He pulls out, coating your ass with his cum as a groan leaves his lips. Caleb plops down on the bed, panting to catch his breath. He looks at you, watching as you gather the force to get up from the bed and go to the bathroom to clean yourself off.

“I can grab you a towel.” He offers, and you hum, finally giving up and laying down on the bed. Caleb puts on his briefs before making his way to your bathroom in search of a towel. He knows exactly which towel to grab, he’s been in this situation too many times.

“Are you going on Friday?” You ask when he’s back in the room. Caleb furrows his brows as he tosses you the towel.

“Going where?” He questions as he watches you wipe his cum off your body. He can’t tear his eyes off your body as you get off the bed and begin to walk to the bathroom.

“I thought I saw you in the group chat. You know… The little get-together our old classmates are planning.” You share, making his eyebrows raise. That explains the message that woke him up last night. 

“Why? You wanna go together?” He fights back a smirk as he lays down on your bed, making himself comfortable. It’s only a matter of time before you kick him out– But maybe tonight is that night where you ask him to stay a little longer and cuddle. 

“Just want to warn you to get your shit together.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Alas, it’s not a cuddling night. You’ll give him an earful then kick him out.

“When do I not have my shit together?” He questions, and he hears you scoff. He should’ve known better. He should’ve just hummed in agreement and told you that he’ll be on his best behavior.

“Last time our friends saw us together, they asked us if we were an item. I don’t want any of that.” You walk back to the bedroom, wearing a robe. He sees that annoyed look on your face, letting him know that it’s only a matter of time before you kick him out. 

“You got it, honey.”

“None of that.” You warn him, and he chuckles as he nods in response. You look around for his clothes, a task that always takes time. It’s so easy to take them off, yet always so hard to find.

“You got it.” He corrects himself just as you throw his shirt in his direction. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

“I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” You inform him, walking back to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

“Do you wanna go together on Friday?” He asks as he begins to get dressed. You’re silent for a second, and he knows that it takes you a moment to come to a decision. It’s always no, he doesn’t know why he even bothers asking.

“It’ll look weird.” Is all he needs to hear. He doesn’t know why you’re always so worried about what your friends might think. Is it really that embarrassing to be seen with him?

“Right…” He answers. He bites his tongue, holding back the hurtful question. You must have your reasons, and he won’t dare question them.

He gets dressed and leaves shortly after without muttering another word. He also has an early day tomorrow but it didn’t seem as important till now. He guesses he has all the wrong priorities.

Laughter echoes from the table. It overflows and seeps through the restaurant, lightening the mood of the place. Yet, Caleb can’t find anything amusing. Not the embarrassing old stories and certainly not the stupid jokes. Caleb enjoys the reunion but he’d much rather be alone with you right now. Especially when an old classmate clings on his arm and attempts to flirt with him.

“What’s up with you?” She asks, poking his cheek. She tries to get a smile out of him, a task that’s harder than what she bargained for. The alcohol reeks in her breath, making Caleb scrunch up his nose.

“I’m a little tired.” He tries to play it off, carefully moving to the side to put some distance between them. She barely notices, too drunk to care. It’s a good thing that she doesn’t notice how Caleb’s eyes linger on you as you speak to an old friend. His eyes soften, and he bites down his lip as he watches you. 

You laugh ever so loudly at a joke that he’s sure wasn’t funny– He didn’t get to hear it, he just has a feeling. You’re batting your eyelashes, playfully smiling before you whisper something. Caleb feels his blood boil, clenching his jaw as he forces himself to look away. Damned jealousy.

He doesn’t understand why you chose to sit so far away, you’re still good friends, you can sit together without looking suspicious. If anything, the way you’re blatantly flirting with someone else is suspicious. Now he’s left to deal with some other drunk, whom he has no interest in socializing with.

“You’ve been quiet.” She gets his attention again, moving closer to him. She doesn’t intend on leaving any space between them.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Caleb stands up, setting space once and for all. Though he’s gone unnoticed all evening, once he stands up, all eyes are on him. He doesn’t want the conversation to stop, and he certainly doesn’t mean to draw attention to himself. Though he claimed he needed to use the bathroom, he exits the restaurant to take a breath of fresh air.

His hands rest in his pockets and he deeply inhales. It reeks of smoke and food in the cold night air, yet it’s still better than whatever the hell is going on inside. He can’t take it anymore. Everyone is just so cheery while they talk of nostalgic moments, and he can’t bring himself to care. He’s bored. He can only look at you as your face lights up in amusement and he beats himself up because he didn’t say it. He wants to be the only reason you laugh. 

A couple of months ago, Caleb wouldn’t have cared. He would’ve been glad his friend is having fun, but now he hates it. Now he’s thinking sappy things, wondering why he isn’t the only person that makes you happy– Because you sure as hell are the only person that brings a smile to his face. He’s let those happy thoughts overwhelm him. He’s been thinking of an inconceivable future. 

“It’s chilly out here, is everything okay?” You startle him. He looks down at you, watching as you cross your arms, attempting to keep yourself warm. If he were your boyfriend, he would’ve warned you to bring a jacket. He also knows you’re stubborn and wouldn’t have listened, so it would’ve been a useless attempt. 

And even if he isn’t your boyfriend, he takes off his jacket and throws it over your shoulders. His cold hand goes under your chin, tilting your head up to make you look at him. And with that, he gives you a subtle smile. “I’m fine.”

“Your nose is red.” You point out, your hands cupping his face. Don’t let anyone catch on but you do this. Everyone knows you followed after him, anyone can come outside to check on you and catch you. 

“Won’t you call me Rudolph?” He jokes, making you roll your eyes. You end up giggling, letting go of his face. 

“You’re such a goober.” You respond. You stand in silence for a second before you look at him with those beautiful eyes. He feels his heart melt with them, and suddenly the task of going back inside seems impossible. 

“Cara was all over me, and I needed a minute.” He reveals, and you purse your lips together. It’s clear that you’re slightly bothered by this, and he feels an ego boost from it. “But it’s for the best, because now I have you all to myself.” 

“Don’t go getting any ideas, we have to go back inside before anyone gets suspicious.” You answer, finger trailing down his chest. He clicks his tongue as his face inches closer.

“What if they catch us? It’s nothing bad.” He responds, his hand going to your wrist and stopping your hand from moving anywhere else. He lowers his voice, “And even if it was, stepping out of line is fun.”

“Caleb,” You take a deep breath, attempting to find the right words. You’ve noticed how odd he’s been acting lately, and it’s raised some concerns. You can’t bring yourself to outright ask it though because you know the answer. The answer will shatter everything you’ve got going on.

“What is it?” He asks when you take too long to speak. Caleb can wait an eternity for an answer, but instead of speaking, you end up shaking your head. He sighs. “I think it’s time we–”

“Guys–” Caleb is cut off. You both look back at the entrance, watching as Cara stumbles out of the place. Before she can even say anything, she pukes her guts out.

“Cara, are you okay?” You quickly disregard Caleb, turning your attention to your friend. She’s out of her right mind. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Caleb didn’t stop me.” She slurs and you look back at the man. Caleb furrows his brows, confused why that’s his task. She chose to sit next to him, he didn’t know that allowing her near him came with an extra set of responsibilities.

“Silly Caleb.” You chuckle. You grab her arm, throwing it over your shoulder. “Let’s take you back insi– No!”

“Are you okay?” Caleb questions as he watches your perfectly fine shoes get ruined by someone who didn’t know when to stop drinking. 

“It seems that it’s time for me to go home too.” You try to laugh it off even when it’s clear that you’re livid. Luckily, you’re not mad at him, that puts his mind at ease. “I need to take care of her first though.”

“I’ll help. Let me go back inside and grab your stuff.” Caleb says, and you hum in response. Though you’re upset, you rub her back in an attempt to help her out.

“Next time you puke, aim at Caleb, okay?” You tell her, and she mindlessly nods. The words aren’t processing in her mind, she has no idea what you just told her. You sigh, knowing that you shouldn’t have followed after Caleb. 

Cara’s apartment is just around the corner, in five minutes you’re inside. It’s not your first time inside the place. You know exactly where everything is, allowing the process of taking care of her to go smoothly. You help her into some pajamas before you tuck her into bed, forcing her to go to sleep– You wouldn’t call it forcing when she’s knocked out within a minute.

While she sleeps, you give yourself the liberty of using her shower and stealing some of her pajamas. It’s the least she can do after ruining your shoes. And to top it off, you’re sleeping on her couch tonight which doesn’t even begin to repay the debt she’s put herself in.

“What are you still doing here? We’re good. You can go.” You question, surprised to still find Caleb in the apartment. He sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone since he has nothing better to do.

“Are you spending the night? I was waiting for you.” He replies, looking up from his phone to find you dressed comfortably in some pajamas. At least that answers his question.

“Yeah, you can go now. Thank you for your help.” You respond, walking over to him and kissing the top of his head. A yawn leaves your lips as you sit down on the couch, “It’s late.”

“It’s been a long night.” He comments.

“Really? I considered it to be short.” You respond, and Caleb raises his brows. Of course you did, you were too busy flirting and showing off; not that he’d say that out loud.

“That’s because you were having fun.” He says, and you hum. You were having fun but apparently he wasn’t.

“Why didn’t you leave earlier if you weren’t enjoying yourself?” You ask, and Caleb stares at you with uncertainty in his eye. He ends up looking away, and shrugging.

“Well…” He wonders if he should admit it. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t bring himself to say it. Jealousy is a boyfriend privilege, and that’s the last thing he is. “I just didn’t want to be the first one out.”

“You’re lying to me.” Your eyes narrow as your face inches closer. You cup his face, forcing him to remain still as you try to read his expression.

“Why would I lie? You’re silly.” He tries to play it off, but it doesn’t slip by you. You purse your lips together as you squeeze his cheeks.

“You don’t want to talk? Fine.” You puff out your cheeks, dramatically turning away and crossing your arms. You hope that it’s enough to get Caleb to speak, but after a minute, he doesn’t give in and you’re forced to step up your game.

You snatch the phone from his hands, and attempt to keep it out of his reach– It’s dumb considering Caleb’s large and strong arm can pry anything from your hand, but it’s still worth a try. 

“Really?” He’s mocking. You confidently nod, holding your arm up.

“You can’t leave without your phone.” You claim, and before you can even finish your sentence, his phone is back in his hand. You whine and quickly yell, “Give it back!”

“My phone? Why should I give it to you?” He holds his arm up, and unlike your futile attempt, it works. You’re trying to reach over for it, and when it seems impossible, you stand up. 

“Caleb! Give it!” You whine as you realize you have no leverage. 

“If you want it, you have to work for it.” He smirks, and you puff out a breath. Then the perfect idea dawns on you. You sit down next to him, crossing your arms.

“Look who’s a crybaby–” He teases, only for all his defenses to go down when your soft lips land on his cheek. He freezes, and you take that opportunity to grab his phone again. This time you won’t let it get away, you shove it between the couch cushion and sit on it.

“Now will you tell me?” You ask with a smug smile on your lips, knowing that you’ve won. You’re too engrossed by your victory that you fail to notice the change in Caleb’s expression. You don’t notice his red ears, the dilated pupils, nor the way he bites his lip.

“Caleb?” You call out to him when he fails to answer, only for your words to be met by his warm lips. His fingers intertwine with yours as he kisses you ever so gently over and over again. He’s never been like this before. It’s fuzzy and warm, filling your stomach with butterflies. 

Your heart races, the same way his own does. His nose brushes against yours, and he pulls away. He looks into your eyes, attempting to find that sparkle– The same sparkle that glimmers in his eyes whenever he looks at you. A sparkle that he never expected to develop, but the more time he spent with you, the harder it was to hide. 

He swallows the lump in his throat as you let go of his hand. He tries to think of the right words to say, but his mind goes blank. Before he can recollect his thoughts, your hands go to the back of his neck and you pull him into a kiss; unlike his own, it’s more passionate and with a clear motive. He’s taken back, but he gives in like he always does.

“We have to be quiet.” You pull away, looking at him with lust filled eyes. Your hand goes to his belt, and he feels his breath get caught up in his chest. He can’t confess how he feels, but he can show you.

“I should tell you that.” He mutters as his lips go down to your neck. He sucks on that sweet spot that makes your knees weak. A moan nearly escapes your lips at the feeling, almost proving his point. He caresses your thigh, hand getting awfully risky. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel his hand go into your pants.

“Let’s not waste time.” You tell him, feeling as his fingers tease your clothed pussy. Caleb hums in agreement, taking his hand out to pull down the pajama pants. Caleb places your legs on the couch before he pushes your panties to the side. He licks his lips at the sight in front of him. Dare he say that tonight is ending better than what he expected.

Caleb spits before he leans down, warm tongue running through your folds. Mouth attaches to your clit while a gasp leaves your lips. You know that by the end of this, your hand will be over your mouth because you simply can’t contain yourself. Your friend might be drunk, but she’s not deaf. Too much commotion will wake her up.

Your breathing gets heavy as you look at the back of his head, feeling that twinge of pleasure  in your stomach. The added risk heightens the feeling, making it easy for you to get overwhelmed. It doesn’t help that Caleb knows your body. Over time he’s gotten to know your body better than you. 

His tongue wanders down, getting close to your entrance. Your breath is stolen from you as you feel him stick his tongue inside of you. You begin to tense up as his thumb begins to play with your clit, and suddenly every thought that you’ve had tonight begins to fade away. You only know that you need this to happen more often, no matter the consequence. 

“Caleb–” His name leaves as a whisper, trying your best to control yourself. It’s hard to contain yourself while he makes you feel so good. He takes his tongue out, laying it flat on your clit before he plays with it. You bite down your tongue, trying to not make a single noise as pleasure gets the best of you.

You shut your eyes, your fingers entangled in his hair as you try to push his face closer. Your body moves involuntarily, and Caleb certainly can’t complain. Your thighs squish his face as you lose control.

“Oh, Caleb– Fuck!” Your voice is louder than it should be, but neither of you care. You’ve gotten to a point of no restraint and Caleb won’t dare stop you. Your voice is like music to his ears, he’d never stop that sweet melody.

You nearly curse him out when he lifts his head, leaving you high and dry just as you were reaching your climax. Caleb has a hint of a devilish smirk on his face, and before you can scold him, his lips land on yours. There’s clear desperation in his every kiss, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset that he pried the orgasm from your grasp. He’s needy, he can’t hold off any longer.

His lips kiss the curve of your jaw before they fall on your ear, “You mean so much to me.” 

The words fall on deaf ears. They don’t process in your mind, and it might be the best. 

Caleb doesn’t get completely undressed, he does just enough to get the deed done. He pushes your knees to your chest before he runs the tip of his cock through your folds. Tonight is not like the many nights that he’s spent at your apartment. You run the risk of getting caught so he shouldn’t drag it out– That’s why he’ll tease you and savor every moment.

He teases your entrance, threatening to put it in but holding off. He’ll hold off until he hears that sweet whine that usually leaves your lips whenever you don’t get something fast enough. You’ll press him to hurry up, and he’ll comply. He just has to hear the magic words first.

“Caleb, hurry up.” You demand, and he lets out a chuckle before slowly pushing himself inside of you. He looks at your face as he watches it contort with pleasure as he fills you up. He wants that face tattooed in his mind, to be the only thought he remembers whenever he needs some release.

Your lips fall apart, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he bottoms out. You shouldn’t be doing this, you really shouldn’t. This isn’t your home, Cara could walk in at any second. She could discover your little secret. But somehow the risk factor turns you on.

Caleb thrusts in and out slowly, setting a slow yet steady pace. His eyes remain on your own, trying to read whatever is on your mind. Does this hold as much meaning to you as it does to him? Is there a glimmer in your eyes or is it the same as in the beginning?

He stops trying to read your mind, getting lost in how beautiful your eyes look. You maintain that eye contact he’s set, a smile coming to your face which he quickly wipes away by kissing your lips. Your hands go to the back of his head, pulling him closer to you. He’s thinking that you need him as much as he needs you.

“Caleb, it’s so–”

“I know, baby, I know.” He cuts you off, feeling as your pussy feels around him. One of your hands goes down to play with your clit, and you begin to lose yourself in the feeling. Caleb hits every right spot. He rubs his cheek against your own as his thrusts slowly pick up speed. “You feel so good.”

“What are you guys doing?” You’re snapped out of your trance by a shocked voice. Caleb stops moving and you stop breathing. Her eyes are wide open, mouth agape while she looks at the couch.

“Cara, you’re awake?” Caleb furrows his brows, looking back at her while he’s balls deep inside you. She slowly nods her head, and Caleb bites down his lip.

“Why are you–”

“You must still be drunk, why don’t you go back to sleep?” Caleb cuts her off before she can finish her thought. He doesn’t worry too much about her remembering, considering she had a lot to drink but just in case, he has to step up his game. 

“Are you guys having sex?” She asks, not daring to step any closer. She might be out of her right mind, but even she knows better.

“No, that’s silly. We’re wrestling.” Caleb chuckles, grabbing the couch cushion and hiding the part that connects you both. She’s drowsy, so she ends up nodding. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? What woke you up?”

“I heard some weird noises.” She answers, and Caleb holds back on laughing. You’re mouthing something to him but he doesn’t bother deciphering whatever you’re trying to say. She drags her feet and goes back to her bedroom, and when she shuts the door, Caleb begins to move again.

“Really? We just got caught and you don’t bother stopping?” You ask him as you meet him for a kiss. It’s a little too late for him to stop, he’s in too deep. 

“She’ll be okay.” He answers as he begins to play with your clit. Your toes curl, feeling as your orgasm builds up and overpowers you. You’re muttering his name over and over again as you reach your climax, leaving as fast as it came.

“Good job, baby. Good job.” He praises as you finish all over him. You’re so good to him.

His lips land on yours, drowning out any sound that comes from them. Caleb is slowly losing the control that he thought he once had. He’s picking up speed until he finally makes a mess out of you. He groans as he releases his cum inside of you, giving more slow and gentle thrusts before he pulls out.

You’re both silent for five minutes, catching your breaths and processing everything that just happened. You stand up and rush to the bathroom before you make a mess of the furniture. And while you’re gone, Caleb takes a moment to think about what to do. Cara won’t remember but this can’t go on like this.

He comes to a realization and it hurts to think about it. Especially now.

Caleb knows. From the very beginning you mentioned how this was temporary, and he comes to the realization that this might as well be the end. Either you want the same thing as him, or you don’t. Either way is fine but he can’t keep doing this because his feelings are on the line. He already allowed himself to get in too deep.

He sighs and cleans up after himself while he waits for you.

“What do I tell her if she wakes up and remembers?” You ask him, walking out of the bathroom all new. 

“I think we should end this.” He blurts out, and you freeze. It’s out of the blue. 

“I’m sorry?”

“I can’t do this.” He admits, stepping closer to you until he’s mere inches away. He cups your face, staring at your face for a moment. Your eyes water, as he looks at them. But he just can’t find that spark. No, you don’t feel the same way he does. He confesses, “I’m utterly in love with you, and I can’t keep hiding it.”

“Caleb, you don’t mean that–” You begin, and you try to think of what to say, but you can’t. His behavior adds up, and you can’t do anything to refute it. “We’re just having fun, Caleb. You don’t love me.”

“I do, and that’s why I can’t keep doing this.” He answers, searching for that spark in your eyes but there is none. You don’t love him, he’s sure.

“Why don’t we talk about this?” You insist and he shakes his head. He refuses.

“You told me this was temporary, and things have run its course.” He reminds you, and he wants to beat himself up for not willing to stick out a little longer. But it hurts. He’ll keep feeling that intense jealousy that he felt earlier, with no claim. He’ll just look like a lunatic for it. 

“What is this about? Cara? You know she won’t–”

“If you really think this is about her then you’ve been too blind to see it.” He interrupts you, and you feel a lump in your throat. “I told you, if you choose not to believe it then that’s on you.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” You claim when in reality it does. You’ve noticed, you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You’re not ready for this to be over just yet. You want to hold on a little longer, just until you’re ready to move on. You just didn’t expect him to end things yet.

“I’ll always be here for you.” He reassures you, trying to give you a comforting smile. He fails miserably. “And if you want to call, I’m always here. We can always joke around, mess around, argue, make small talk. Whatever your little heart desires. Just not sex.”

You’re not sure how to answer, and frankly, you don’t want to. Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, revealing just how great your emotional attachment has become. Caleb looks away, not allowing himself to be weak. His daydreams crumble right before him. There is no future with you.

In the end, neither of you say anything else, allowing him to leave without an issue.

It’s for the best.

[lieslab]

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Felix X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend finds you suffering from food poisoning.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I'm taking a break from requests. This post is brought to you by my very own Bbokari, Han Quokka, a personal tummy ache, and the desire to be comforted through all of life's insufferable torments, no matter how small <3

_ _ _

Face down on the leather couch, your stomach tightened in another knot, causing you to suck in another deep breath. So maybe it was a bad idea to consume the leftovers that had been sitting in the back of your fridge. Every time you considered eating them, you pushed the thought aside, telling yourself you’d do it tomorrow. 

Tomorrow never came until today. Today and by today, you meant the end of the week. Freshly cooked food on Monday and now on a Friday, you cursed yourself. What a stupid and foolish idea it was to eat food that had been sitting, festering with god knows what, in the back dark corner of your fridge. 

You were sure you’d never do it again. Surely, some sins had to be atoned for somehow. Your sentence for eating old leftovers? Food poisoning. The worst kind of sentence for someone like you. 

All the plans for today, you threw them out the window. Instead, you’d stay buried in the cold leather. Grumbling and groaning, grabbing your stomach, and silently praying for mercy from someone out there. You consumed your leftovers for lunch and now, nearly two hours later, they kicked your ass. 

On the coffee table, your phone vibrated. Between a coaster with your green ceramic mug and the TV remote, it buzzed non-stop. Someone was calling and your phone wasn’t far, but it felt far enough that reaching over to grab it might cause you to spew all over the floor. One minute you were fine and within a handful, you swore death was coming for you. 

When the vibrations stopped, you let your eyes shut. Your forehead pressed against the textured padding. You previously wanted to get up and fold that laundry in the dryer. You had the day off and you promised Felix you’d catch up on your chores since you weren’t doing anything. Life had other plans and until the brewing bacteria in your stomach settled, you were pinned with defeat. 

Your arms curled around your body, trying to get the cramping to stop. You knew how badly this could get. It could get worse before you felt better, that was the worst part. Stuck in your body, you waited and waited and waited. 

Before the pressure released in your bloating belly, you let sleep drag you beneath the currents of unconsciousness. 

~ ~ ~ 

Outside your apartment, Felix hummed a familiar tune. His tongue clicked and his hands slipped from one side of his body to the other. “Splash. Pitter-patter, feel the water-” He whistled and stuck the metal key in the lock. He turned the handle, bumped it with his hip, and slipped inside. 

His cheery whistle continued as he kicked off his shoes and locked the door back up. Grabbing his canvas bag, he tugged it off his shoulder. Your name started to leave his mouth, but it stopped when he found you curled down on the couch. 

For a moment, he didn’t move. Tied to his spot, his heart fluttered. How could someone be so cute without doing anything? Cuteness aggression fizzed and bubbled in his blood. He dropped his bag, completely disregarding it. He giggled, prancing over to your still body and dropped to his knees. 

Between the tight fit of the couch and coffee table, his back brushed against the wooden table. He reached up grinning and pushed some of your hair back. He expected to find your face, but instead, he found an ear. His grin widened. 

“Ah, look at that. Someone is hiding from me, aren’t they? You can’t hide from me, baby.” He leaned closer, letting his warm breath hit your ear. “I’m right here.” He pulled back giggling, waiting for a response, but it never came. 

“Uh-oh. Someone’s sleeping, aren’t they? Guess who’s going to get a visit from the tickle monster?” He jerked up and bumped into the coffee table. Behind him, the liquid in your cup sloshed, but he didn’t notice. 

Climbing over your body, he straddled you with his knees on both parts of your stomach. His hands rubbed together quickly and then they slipped to your sides. He lightly tickled your torso, but you didn’t stir. Realizing you truly were asleep, his hands moved to the back of your neck. Rolling thumbs slowly worked their way down into your tense shoulders. 

“Ah, no wonder you’re so sleepy. You’re all tense and worked up. Keeping all this pent up stress isn’t good for your body.” He whispered the words more to himself rather than you. Your back gently rose and fell, but you didn’t move. 

“You’ve been working so hard lately and I’m so proud of you. All the hard stuff, you keep chipping away at it, even when it feels tough. I try to do the same, but when I know you’re out there battling hard things, it makes me feel less alone.” 

His hands shifted down to the sleeves on your shoulders. He adjusted the rolling fabric and tugged it back down. “There you go, all better. I can’t even see your face, but you’re still so cute. You make me wanna tuck you into my heart and never let go.” 

His head tipped and tendrils of blonde hair fell with the movement. He pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaned down, and gently kissed that secret spot; the soft hollow hidden beneath the top of your ear. Your shoulder shifted at the movement and you whimpered. Felix beamed and called your name. 

“No,” you whined. 

“Oh, there you are. You were sleeping, weren’t you? My sleepy little baby, how cute.” He patted your back and gently kneaded his hands into your flesh. “My sleepy little baby, sleepy little baby, sleepy little baby.” As he pawed, he sang his own little melody that came from nowhere. 

As much as you wanted to enjoy his tenderness, you couldn’t. Beneath him, you groaned. “Get off of me.” 

“Uh-oh, someone’s grumpy,” he lightly teased, still assuming you were upset from being woken up by his antics. 

“You’d be grumpy if you had a tummy ache, too.” 

He gasped, stopping his movements. “A tummy ache? What do you mean? Why do you-” 

“Because God hates me and so do my leftovers.” 

“Oh, you poor thing.” He shifted, getting off of you. “Do you have food poisoning?” You mumbled something incomprehensible. “Baby, I can’t hear you when you’re talking into the couch.” 

You rolled and sniffled, nodding your head. “I think so. You know how I feel about being nauseous and I’m so queasy. I’d rather die than feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just stay there and look pretty for me, okay? I’m going to try and make it feel better.” He crawled between your legs and tugged you closer. “Would it help if I rubbed your belly?” 

You shrugged, just wanting the cramping to stop. He leaned forward, slowly slipping his hands beneath the hem of your shirt. “Just breathe and focus on me, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fight the evil food poisoning alone. How long have you had it?” 

“What time is it?” 

“A little after six.” 

“It’s been a fight since two.” 

His face fell and he gently worked three fingers around in a small circle. “Which part of your stomach? Top? Bottom?” 

“Middle.” 

“Okay, I’ve got you. You just focus on breathing and I’ll be right here.” He moved his hands slowly, not pressing too hard, but pressing hard enough to give you a little relief from your gurgling stomach. “Is this okay?” 

You nodded and sniffled. You didn’t feel horrendous, but you certainly felt sick. It wasn’t as bad as the flu, or a cold, but it was still uncomfortable and frustrating. You ate your leftovers because you didn’t want to throw them out. If you could wind back the clock, you’d toss them in the trash, but you couldn’t. Far too late, you suffered as your body tried to digest the spoiled food. 

You blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. The queasy feeling built-up again and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for it to pass. A deep breath in and another out. Felix’s hands pressed into the fragile skin of your stomach. “How are you doing, love?” 

“Not great.” 

“But you’re still responding, so it must mean you’re still fighting.” He joked, trying to break the tension. 

Your eyes reopened and you weakly glared at him. His face softened and his dimples appeared. “There you are again. Sick, or not, I’m happy you’re here. Are you feverish? Should we get you to a clinic?” 

“No, because they won’t be able to do anything.” 

“Have you taken medicine?” 

Your head shook. He shifted and stood up. “I’m going to go find you something for nausea and maybe a trash can. Are you going to be okay alone?” 

You nodded and he reached down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be right back, just stay put.” He hurried into the hall, not wanting you to be alone for too long.

Still laying on the couch, you finally pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Your hair stuck in a multitude of directions and you curled into the arm. Half slumped upright and half sprawled out, you could see the front half of the living room. 

Golden sunlight faded as time marched on. The hum of the spinning ceiling fan spun around and around. Your ceramic mug sat out for hours while you slept. Whatever you put in it, it’d certainly gone room temperature and stale. 

Your arms went back around your stomach. The only constant thing you felt, besides your nausea, were the cramps; achy and dull cramps that came and went in waves. You sucked in another deep breath and silently waited for them to pass. 

Footsteps brushed against the hardwood and Felix came back with a small tablet in one hand and a trash can in the other. “Here, it’s the only thing I could find. Artificial cherry anti-nausea tablets, which you might not be a fan of, but I think it’s better than tasting vomit.” He placed it in your palm and disappeared again. “I’m going to get you water.” 

The small bathroom trash can sat on the coffee table. This morning, you layered it with snotty tissues, your old toothbrush, and water droplets. They cascaded down your hands as you approached the hand towel. The idea of vomiting into it wasn’t pleasant, but then again, it beat cleaning chunks of half-digested food off the floor.

As you chewed the tablet, he reappeared with a bottle of cold water. “Here’s this. You can use it to wash it down. Hold on, I want to grab one more thing and then I’ll be right back.” 

He came back with your king-sized comforter. “Hi, hi, hi! It’s me! I’m back again. Come here my little sickie. I’ll nuzzle you with my healthy germs.” He headed for you, opening up the blanket cocooned around his body. The lilac comforter looked like fairy-wings. 

“I don’t want your germs,” you mumbled.

“But you do want Bbokari and you want to make Bbokari happy, right?” 

“Don’t use our child against me.” 

He laughed and plopped down beside you. His arms reopened and he grabbed you, trying to tug you into his arms. “Come here and let me keep you cozy.” 

You didn’t fight his arms. In fact, you shifted, allowing yourself to lean against him. He tucked you into his body and wrapped the two of you in the warmth of the padded fabric. “There you go. Do you feel better? Because I feel better.” 

“Maybe a little.” 

“I thought so.” 

You sighed and let your head drop. “Thanks for taking care of me. I know I can be annoying when I’m sick. I can’t help it, I just feel so-” 

“You’re not annoying. It’s food poisoning, right? Hey, if this was one of my members, they’d be throwing a bigger fit. Hyunjin would think he’s dead by now. Changbin would probably think it’s punishment for missing one gym day.” 

You weakly chuckled. He leaned over and pressed another soft kiss to your cheek. “I don’t mind taking care of you. I love it. I love you. Even when you’re sick, you’re mine. The germs can’t keep you from my love. Do you feel a little better from the medicine?” 

“Yeah, a bit.” 

His face lit up and he wrapped his arms around you tighter. “I’m so glad it worked. It’s a Christmas miracle. Do you hear that, Bbokari? Christmas came early.”

He popped the head of the little yellow bird out of the top of the comforter. “Aw, how precious.” He hopped the plushie along, pressed it against your cheek, and made a loud kissy noise. 

Your heart melted like butter. Despite being sick, your cheeks flushed. Embarrassment overtook you and you shook your head at his antics. “You are so-” 

He gasped and pulled up another plushie. “Look at that! Han Quokka? How did you get here?” He grinned at your expression and bounced them both to you. “Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!” 

Both plushies began to kiss your cheeks, causing you to burst into a fit of laughter. Felix’s smile grew wider and he continued his antics. “Ah! They’re attacking you! No, stop! They’re mine!” He mixed kissing noises between his cries of fake jealousy. 

“Bbokari! Han Quokka! You’re doing too much! They’re mine!” He huffed and tugged them back beneath the blanket. “Go get your own romantic relationship. I can’t believe they tried to take you from me.” 

You couldn’t pull the entertained smile off your face. He glanced over and when he saw it, he gasped. “And you’re smiling? Babe, were you just going to let them take you from me? You’d cheat on me that quickly?” 

“What can I say? They give pretty good kisses.” 

He gasped and jerked forward. “Oh, hell no.” He moved his hands out of the blanket and tossed the two Skzoos behind his back. “You take that back.” 

“I don’t think I will.” 

“I’ve never felt this betrayed in my whole entire life. This is unbelievable. This is treason! What about love? What about us?” He pulled away, turned his head, and pretended to ignore you. “I must mean nothing to you.” 

Your voice took on an unexpected tone of softness. “You mean everything to me, Lix.” 

He whirled around, letting his eyes settle on yours. The cramping in your stomach disappeared as you studied his freckles. Honey-glazed eyes, parted lips, and yearning. It wasn’t just the look on his face, you felt it in your soul; a magnetic pull that tethered the two of you together. 

His smile grew and he leaned closer, wanting to keep this moment forever. “You mean everything to me, too. Not a second goes by where I don’t think about you. Even when you’re sick, when you’re making bad decisions about rotten leftovers, I still want you.” 

Your face scrunched and you leaned back. “Okay, that was low, even for you. Too soon. I can’t believe you just-” His lips met yours. 

Slowly, softly, sensually. Heightened pleasure, artificial cherry, and the soft blanket around your body. His hands found your waist and he pushed you back. Further and further, until the back of your head slowly found the arm of the couch. 

Your arms shifted up, wrapping around his neck, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours. A wave of warmth cut through you, shoving your ill feelings aside. He went from nourishing you to being the elixir for your illness. When he pulled back, leaving your lips craving his softness, he crawled back down; letting his head press against your stomach. 

He was all you could think about. Your heart fluttered against your ribcage. Every thought went hazy. The plushies pushed aside by his legs were long forgotten. Your hand reached down to curl in his hair. He sighed, never wanting to stop touching you. 

His left hand slipped into yours and he gently squeezed. “I’ll be right here if you need something, okay? Just try not to throw up on me. The bucket is right there.” He gestured to the coffee table. 

You gently tugged a strand of his hair, causing him to groan. He grabbed the Bbokari plushie off to his side and pulled it back up. A horrendous voice came out, calling your name. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” He wiggled his hand, pretending that Bbokari ran towards you. More kissing noises left his mouth. 

You didn’t know how to tell him to stop, or maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want him to.

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Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz @ari-hwanggg @m-325 @justcallmewhatyoulike

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,

☆word count: 15k (whoops)

☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, March 2nd

[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up

You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung. 

It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened. 

Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again. 

You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep. 

You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling. 

Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.

Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…

You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.

You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.

Now you know it to be hell. 

Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.

Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.

[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?

The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time. 

Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest. 

This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…

You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come. 

“Jungkook?” you let out.

A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.

“Can I come in?”

Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”

So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.

Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers. 

“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.

He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”

“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”

To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.

“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”

You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”

He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.

How can he have such an effect on you?

“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.

You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”

“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out. 

You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”

“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.

He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk

“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”

“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”

You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”

When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.

You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.

“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.

Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”

“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.

“I’m just teasing you, peach.”

“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”

He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.

You nod once. “No worries.”

Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.

You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?

The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.

And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.

“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.

The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.

Or maybe half a lie.

“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.

“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”

“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.

“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features. 

Has Jimin told him anything after all?

“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.

Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you. 

“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.

“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Romantic,” you chime.

His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.” 

There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.

You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”

“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”

You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”

“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.

“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.

The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would. 

So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.

Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”

You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.

You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”

You glance at him. “Okay?”

“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”

Your throat goes dry. “He did?”

Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”

You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.

“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”

You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”

“Fuck.”

He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”

You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”

“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”

Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.

“You have a brother?” you ask.

His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”

“I’ve never heard about him before.”

He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”

You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”

“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.

You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”

Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.

“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”

“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.

“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”

“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”

He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.

“Please?”

“Please what?” you ask.

“Please come with me?”

There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.

What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?

“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.

“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”

“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”

Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”

You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.

“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”

*****

You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.

“You look hot, peach.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.

Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.

“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.

“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head. 

“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots. 

You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.

You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”

You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.

As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.

[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym

Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him. 

[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with

You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.

“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”

“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room. 

You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?

You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. 

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned. 

It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”

Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.

And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?

“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”

You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”

You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”

“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”

You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”

You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about. 

“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”

“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

“I’d hardly call it in advance.”

You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”

“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.

You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”

“Yeah, your party.”

“It’s not a party.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”

The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”

He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.

You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.

None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.

You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely. 

And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously. 

It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.

You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.

“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”

“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Oh, won’t you now?” 

You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”

He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”

You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.

You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”

It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”

The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”

“Excuse me?”

You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”

Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?

Is Jungkook out to hurt you?

“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”

The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.

“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”

“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.

You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”

He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.

But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship? 

“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you. 

“Three?!” you shriek.

He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”

“Bruh.”

“You can do it, peach.”

He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.

If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes. 

Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.

At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.

“Something wrong?” you ask him.

“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.

He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.

“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”

It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”

His silence is answer enough.

“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.

Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.

“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.

You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.

“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.

Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.

“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”

Oh.

“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”

“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.

You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”

He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.

“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”

“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”

“You don’t need to tell me this.”

“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”

You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.

Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.

“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car. 

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.

There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.

“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.

His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.

You’re already in too fucking deep.

“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”

You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.

You really are in too deep.

*****

Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.

It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym. 

And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.

Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook. 

You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.

Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.

You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.

“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch. 

You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.

“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.

You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”

Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.

“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.

“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”

Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”

You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”

“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.

You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”

“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.

He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.

Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she shrieks.

Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.

When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.

After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.

“What?” you ask.

“Do you like your drink?”

He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.

Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”

His lips curve upwards. “Good.”

You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask.

“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.

You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.

“Bullshit,” you call him out.

He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

“You drink all the time,” you state.

Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”

A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”

“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.

“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest. 

You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement. 

“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.

You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”

As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok. 

“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.

He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.

Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.

Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.

“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.

Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.

“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.

It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.

You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze. 

“Well, well, well,” you let out.

“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.

“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.

Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.

You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.

It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.

Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.

Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.

Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.

You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…

Only to have it end on Seokjin again.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”

This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.

You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.

So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.

You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all. 

“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”

“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.

You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas. 

Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”

Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”

Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side. 

“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.

Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.

“Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”

“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”

Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing. 

He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.

Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.

When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.

“Finally,” she jokes.

The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.

You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.

Pointing towards Jungkook.

“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.

Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”

Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.

They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.

Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”

Yep. The arrogant asshole.

You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.

He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.

You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.

“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.

You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.

Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.

All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.

He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold. 

When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.

You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…

“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group. 

You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.

You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.

You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.

You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.

Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?

You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.

The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.

You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.

You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.

[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed

You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.

“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.

Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can I sleep over?”

You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”

Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”

Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.

Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.

“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”

You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.

“They are,” you reply.

“I should hang with you guys more often.”

You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.

“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”

“Right.”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”

You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.” 

Though, was it really just for the game?

“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”

“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”

He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”

“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.

Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.

You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life. 

You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.

You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”

He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.

But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.

“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”

Your mind empties out.

“Jungkook…”

“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”

“You wanted this,” you remind him.

“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”

You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken. 

You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.

“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.

His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”

It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”

“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”

“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”

His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”

You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability. 

“Because there is no going back now.”

He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”

“You will just hurt me.”

“Not planning on it.”

You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.

The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.

“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.

“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”

Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.

“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”

Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.

He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”

“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”

Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long. 

Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?

You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.

“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.

Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.

That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.

“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.

Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.

He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.

He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.

He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.

“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.

“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”

Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.

You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.

“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”

“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.

“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”

You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.

“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”

You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.

You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.

And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.

He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.

And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.

“Red lights?” you tease.

“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.

“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.

He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.

“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”

Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.

“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”

He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.

He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.

This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.

He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”

“Eat me out,” you say.

“That’s what you want?”

You nod.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.

As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.

“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.

“Yes.”

He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs. 

He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.

Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.

“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.

Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”

Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song. 

You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.

And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.

Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”

“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”

He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.

His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”

He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.

“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”

So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.

“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.

“What if I want you to?”

He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”

Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”

He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down. 

“Open your mouth,” he orders.

You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.

It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick. 

“Now you can suck my dick.”

You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.

He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“

“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”

“Are you sure?”

Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”

And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.

And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.

You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.

“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”

“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”

You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”

And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette. 

“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”

You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.

“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“

“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”

He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.

“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”

“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.

He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”

A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.

Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.

“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.

It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.

He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”

You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.

He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.

“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.

“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.

The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.

Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.

He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move. 

You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.

“That felt good?” he asks against you.

“Mmh,” you let out. 

“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.

He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.

“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.

He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”

You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.

You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.

You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.

Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.

Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.

“Jungkook!”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.

“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.

“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.

You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Aren’t we sleeping together?”

You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”

He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”

“You’re simping.”

His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.

He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”

Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.

“Stay?”

He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”

You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.

“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.

You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you. 

“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”

“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”

And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.

Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?

You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already. 

A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”

Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.

“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”

Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?

“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.

He chuckles. “Yes.”

“But we’re not…” you trail off.

You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?

“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.”

You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”

“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.

“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.

“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”

The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire. 

He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames. 

Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…

But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.

Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.

College is meant to experience things though, right?

So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”

Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[madamechrissy]

Escort! Satoru- part five

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- mutual pining like a mf, obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, mutual pining, lots of yearninggg, kissing (I KNOW YAYYY) dry humping, teasing, fingering, public play, fluffy and cute- there will be a part six! (final) pretty woman vibes 🤭

<<<Part Four - Final Part>>>

Escort! Satoru finally does it, he asks you on that date, watching the shock in your eyes, the trembling of your lips as you step back, and Satoru feels it then, the hammering of his heart. Is it too late? Should he have reached out again to you after the first night, when you didn't answer? His blue eyes peer at you over those glasses, as the sunlight beats down on your skin, making his cheeks just a little reddened, striking across his pale skin.

Escort! Satoru eases his hands gently off your face, when you swallow nervously - he hurt you so badly that night, the embarrassment of asking him to hold you, dying for a mere kiss on the lips. How could you be so foolish, truly, you had to try to forget him in any way you could, after sleeping with him and knowing he would never be yours, always sharing him, he was just there because of your money and maybe he enjoyed it. But it wasn't more.

Escort! Satoru realizes how much he fucking missed you now, as if some void is filled by your presence, but you lower his hands gently, holding them for a moment. 'I was so...' stupid, you were stupid 'I'm very sorry I asked you for things you never do,' you sigh, looking around, seeing people walk by. 'I should have respected your-' Satoru stops you then, tilting your chin up, your gaze focused on him. 'I should have held you, okay? I'm sorry...' you feel your eyes fill with the tears, as words you've dreamed of are spoken, and they feel just like that- a dream. 'I want a real date, could we?'

Escort! Satoru eyes you when your phone rings, and you look down nervously. 'I have a date tonight, the first in... years' Satoru steps back now, glaring at you. 'With who?' you blink in surprise. 'Why does it matter to you? Do you think after months I wouldn't ever wanna try?' Satoru grips your wrist, thumb brushing against the veins gently, sending shivers down your spine, as he tries to compose himself, he has no right to be so mad, so jealous. 'Fine, then give me a date after' he murmurs, desperate for you, how can he see you and not try? After everything he's been yearning for appears before him, and he knows how badly he fucked up. 'I don't know...' you want to, god you do, but you also know how badly Satoru can hurt you, uniquely. 'Please just, give me a chance to explain myself, to be myself and not...' he trails off, the wind blows gently and a little blossom lands on your hair, which he sweetly brushes away. 'One chance'

Escort! Satoru is furious thinking about anyone touching you, though it's toxic and unrealistic in every aspect. His job was to touch, though he'd throw it all away if you asked, god he would, because he doesn't find joy in any of it. No amount of money fills this emptiness, but he never thought he'd have a chance with you - only to ruin it. 'I'll go out with you this weekend, but you pick the place, and pick me up' you say softly, his heart thuds as he nods eagerly, desperate and pathetic for you - something he's never been until you ruined him with just your energy, your body, that laugh he'd love to have back. Memories of your night fill him then, as he aches to touch you, to know you, to kiss you.

Escort! Satoru plans the date to a tee, but the whole time he's wondering - where are you going, and with who? Would you prefer them over him? Meanwhile you're trying to get through that date, mind wandering, you just tried to open up for the first time since Satoru broke your heart - even if it was your own fault. You try to smile, and enjoy him, a handsome man that surely was perfect on paper, and interested in you. As the night goes on and the drinks pour, you think to yourself, you should try, letting him kiss you at the end of the evening, wondering what you'll feel. It's nice, but it's nothing like just being near Satoru. Frustrated almost to tears, you're laying in bed that night, as the man in your head that you almost pushed down enough, is back front and center.

Escort! Satoru can't stand it, knowing you're on a date, he almost texts you so many times before he caves - 'ready for our date?'- he smirks, hoping your with whoever it was. But you don't answer him for hours, until you finally write him - yes - and that's it, no sweet banter like the two of you had. It's different, had you really already moved on? He trembles as he texts you - 'how was the date?' - and you write - 'it was fine, any jobs tonight? - and that's when he realizes you're mad. The sweetest girl he met is so clearly mad. He hadn't taken a job tonight, and he's cancelled his week, but he gets it clearly. - 'no job tonight, I'm excited to see you' - He's never said that to anyone. You heart the message, emotions catching, excitement but apprehension in equal parts, you just don't know if he's serious, you're so scared to let go again.

Escort! Satoru picks you up that night in his car, some little Maserati sports car that looks like it goes way too fast. You can't act like he's not sexy as fuck as he steps out of it, opening your door and grinning at you, but you try to hold back, smiling with a 'thank you' as you slide in next to him. Satoru's hand craves to press on your thigh, but fuck if he's not nervous, he hasn't had a date since he started this career despite his job being to go on dates, not a real one, not with someone he asked. He's damn near shaking with his nerves, trying to play it off, as he drives through the quiet streets, smiling over at you with a quirk of his lips. 'You look beautiful' his words make you flustered, nervously tugging a bit on the gorgeous dress you're wearing, glittering like the stars in the sky - fuck your very skin itself glitters. 'you're saying it truly this time?'

Escort! Satoru glares now, foot on his break, scowling at you. 'what do you mean truly? you think I didn't mean any of it?' you blink back unexpected tears, looking out the dark tinted window as he drives once more. 'It was your job, that's all, and I told you I took it too far, you shouldn't feel bad that happened. I - ah!' he skids to a stop suddenly, pulling off the side of the road, and unbuckling your seatbelt so fast you can barely register. He's got you on his lap so fast, as cars whirl by, shaking the fucking car and shocking you further, as he handles you like it's nothing. You brace your hands on his chest, so nervous now, hands clenching the black jacket of his tux, breaths faster and faster. 'You are beautiful, I never said that because of a job' he swipes away your tears, lips hovering over yours, as he exhales, breath tickling your lips. 'What are you doing, Satoru?' your whisper is weak, as he drags you even closer, and his eyes dart to your lips. 'What I should have done that night'

Escort! Satoru slams his lips on yours then and there, you feel it like hot, electric shots going through your body when he does, when he's pressing those plush, glossy lips on yours, and you're shattering over him, lost in his kiss. Satoru has never felt anything like it, like finally kissing you, his tongue slipping in your mouth, drinking up your every cry, every gasp, as you roll your hips just right, and he feels the heat he's been dying for against his aching cock. 'Fuck...' his hushed words are met with your little cry, which just has him dragging you down harder, ready to devour every sweet inch of you, but barely being able to drag himself from your lips, gasping as he pulls back, eyes meeting yours, glimmering now. 'Satoru you... kissed me...' you're close to crying now, trembling as he sighs, cupping your pretty face, the one that's haunted him. 'I've wanted to since I first saw you'

Escort! Satoru keeps kissing you, over and over, desperate and messy, you almost cum just from that friction against you, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, as his huge hands press into your skin. 'I need you, fuck I need you sweetheart- god you have no clue' you're easing back, struggling to compose yourself. 'Am I so VIP?' you tease softly, and he feels it then, the soft way you're asking - not judging, but scared. He exhales, resting his head on yours, shaking his head and pulling you down again. 'I'll gladly delete my whole fucking profile, for a chance with you' his words sink in fully. Your cheeks are hot under his gentle touch. 'I just don't... Satoru, you don't have to do this for me. I understand...' He kisses you once more, before your phone rings.

Escort! Satoru glares, and you can't help but giggle. 'Are you jealous?' he just sets his jaw, as you look over and see it, holding the phone with a shaky hand, and he pulls you harder on his cock, having your eyes roll back in your skull. 'Tell him you're on a date' he whispers, gripping you so tight, before easing you to sit back in your seat, kissing you over and over. 'Let's get there, okay?' you're trying to compose yourself, seeing him shift and wince while he drives once more, pouting. 'You enjoying my pain, sweets?' you can't help but giggle again. The date is pretty and serene, the restaraunt on the roof top, swathed in moonlight. Satoru feeds you carefully, the two of you sharing dessert, talking and laughing like the first time he fucking met you - when he knew then, something was so special about you, something he could never pin fully, but he sees it, with how the candle light hits your face, your sweet blush as his hand slips up your thigh.

Escort! Satoru is not happy to learn you've had a kiss, and your amused little smile is quickly lost, when he slips his fingers between your thighs, and you wildly look around, as he smirks at you. 'That's cute, you kissed? did you like that?' he's taunting now, possessive gaze, that you can't get enough of, fuck you want all of him, even though you're scared, so scared to be hurt again. He's pressing his fingers against your panties, which are soaked, watching as your eyes get lidded, hand gripping the thick white cloth, and he slips under then, feeling the heat he'd been dying for, leaning in close. 'Asked you a question, hmm?' you lean closer, hips shifting, jerking as he thumbs your twitchy little clit, making you gush. 'Would you be mad if I liked it, Satoru?' he sighs, slipping two fingers in your slick hole, making you almost moan in the fucking restaurant now. 'You're wet for me, aren't you, all me?' He's curling them now, acting so casual as a waitress refills your wine, and you pray no one hears the squishing noises your juices are making.

Escort! Satoru can't help but suck you off his fingers, right before he makes you cum, and you're throbbing around nothing, wanting. You're clenching your teeth as you watch, as if he's finishing his dessert- and when he tastes you again!? He can barely control himself, eyes dilated while you sink into his tastebuds, ready to finally give you what you want, and need, and deserve, fuck you so good you can't function, and hold and kiss you. Satoru slips his lips on yours in front of the restaurant, and you taste yourself, whining into his lips. Suddenly a girl sees him, a frequent client who'd gotten too obsessed, and walks right up to him, crossing her arms. He eases back in the seat, as you look down shyly, unsure of who she is. 'I'm on a date' his words make your heart flutter now, as she glares. 'ah, so you do kiss? was this some special package, do you know how expensive you are?' you bite back a smile, and Satoru just grins, shaking his head like a little shit. 'It's different, she's my girlfriend.'

Escort! Satoru blushes when you whisper 'your girlfriend, huh?' in his ear moments later, as a very angry client stomps off, and he brushes back your hair, hard body against yours, studying your face. 'Would you... be my girlfriend?'

taglist 1 @shydroid3000 @aducksmokingquack @miya4life @ravenbc @yenayaps @nezukuwu @etsuniiru @ieathairs @kenqki @princess-bblgm @belovedxiao @ninikrumbs @ieathairs @myahfig4 @theelegantpotato @vvaoo @aldebrana @celestep004 @whoisteona @ladyneisa @lililovely78 @gamerhere @wstaley2 @allthesqueaks @slut4donghyuck @maisiefrancesca @yittten @femaholicc @jjknanamin @that-b-word-lol @devastyle @mat-mat-mat @jkslaugh97 @ovela @mxgnolia @rikiswifeyyy @kaayyhunnyy @gojos1wife1 @arabellasolstice @01ve3rz @jud3thedude @firemoonlightfly @vyluvs @artist1936 @kyelikesanime @alygator77 @seternic @qlucoise @mysticranger575 @undermegumisbed

[rush-the-stars]

Dogfight

pairing: nicholas d. wolfwood x reader, vash the stampede x reader, vashwood x reader

wc: 4k what the actual hell lol

cw: jealousy, mild smut/suggestive content, fighting, blood, biting, marking, possessiveness. the boys are jealous of each other sorta but then get on the same page. minors dni, 18+ only

a/n: this is for an anon that asked me about jealous vashwood and then i spent days working on this and it got too big so i made an Official Fic Post rather than just answering the ask bc im insane and unwell lol this is also probs more 98 vash and wolfwood than stampede! i hope you enjoy!! banner from @/cafekitsune

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

The first time they meet you, its through a shower of gunfire. Your wild smile is all that’s left when the smoke clears.

Wolfwood thinks he hasn’t seen anyone so damn beautiful in his entire life—streaked with blood and eyes lit up like a flame, twirling a twin pair of pistols like fucking ribbons.

And Vash thinks maybe he’s in love? And then he shakes his head and tries to clear it, tries to clear you from his vision, and at least the smoke disappears some. And the chaos stills. But you smile all crooked at them, tilting your head a little in greeting and he feels wobbly all over again.

“Happy to save your asses,” you say, “buy me a drink?”

Vash hears wedding bells.

(It’s just church bells tolling in the distance.)

“Happy to—happ—“ Vash trips over all his words.

“Shit, I’ll buy you dinner, too.” Wolfwood says.

Vash looks at him, Wolfwood looks back. And then they’re stumbling over themselves to get up, clambering and clawing and falling over each other and they must look like foolish, scrapping dogs in the dirt at your feet.

You laugh, though, warm and amused.

“Settle down, boys. bar’s still standing—you can both buy me a drink.”

And they’re left to watch you walk away and talk to Meryl, whose shaking her head and rolling her eyes at them. You introduce yourself to her.

And they both scramble after your heels, right on the tails of your skirts.

***

You sleep with Wolfwood first—

He’s surprisingly gentlemanly with you, even if you can feel the desperation and hunger that he tries to keep so far from the surface. He’s all bravado, all honeyed words and little growled praises as he squeezes the fat of your hips.

He gets you so wet it’s almost embarrassing, except that he also makes you come so hard that you forget about it almost immediately. He adores being between your legs, adores tasting and taking—being on his knees for you.

Wolfwood is a worshipful man. Devoted. Adoring. With a little grit and bite when you need it.

He leaves a mark or two. Around your collar bones or neck. One on your hip. He can’t help himself.

He takes good care of you in that brutishly charming way of his—fucks deep and hard, carves his way through you and makes you toss your head back into the pillow and pull at his hair. He loves to please, loves to be told what to do or what you want. Take what you need, pretty girl. He hums to you, groaning when you tell him how good he feels.

Rarely impatient except when you rile him up, Wolfwood makes a good lover. Fun and obedient and affectionate.

You adore him.

***

Wolfwood and Vash get testy with each other.

Tensions are high—Vash is surprisingly sharp with him, in a way that makes you a little wary, treating him like a bit of a ticking time bomb.

Wolfwood doesn’t help. He’s an instigator and if there’s one thing he loves, it’s to get under someone’s skin. Especially someone like Vash, whose usually easy and cheerful and kind.

“Would you leave it?” Vash snaps at Wolfwood, shoving the man’s hand off his shoulder. He bares his teeth a little and in the dim light you see the knife-sharp flash of his pointed canines.

“I was just trying to be friendly,” Wolfwood drawls in a way that indicates he most certainly wasn’t just trying to be friendly.

“Something the matter?” You ask and when Vash’s eyes land on you, he immediately softens. He looks guilty. Hangs his head a little and looks at the ground.

“No,” he says, “sorry—“

But Wolfwood says, “Blondie’s got his panties in a bunch about something and I was just trying to see what was wrong—“

Vash’s eyes flash.

“Nick,” you snap. Short and sharp, like reprimanding a dog.

He looks at you. You look back. Then you jerk your head to tell him to get lost, “take a hike.”

“And who made you the boss?” He snarks.

You level him with a more serious look, hand on your hip, “I’ll find you later.”

“You can’t just order me—“

“I wanna talk to Vash.” You respond firmly, “and you’re being a jackass.”

He stares at you for another long moment. You don’t back down, in fact you tip your chin up a little, meeting his eyes with a flash of authority.

He looks at Vash, who quickly glances away.

He scoffs, “whatever. You’re both a pain in my ass.” But he listens to you and skulks off.

You turn to Vash when he’s out of ear shot, “you okay?” You ask.

Vash can’t look at you. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that—“

“Not your fault. He can be a pest. Walk with me?” You ask and now you hold up the crook of your elbow.

Vash eyes you uncertainly for a moment, before he lets go of a small breath, and siddles up to your side. He loops his arm through yours and you begin to guide him through this little, nowhere town. The sun is setting. The dusk sky is smoky and golden, like a quartz glittering, shadowed and shining.

“You seem—“ You choose your words carefully, “troubled lately.” And then you amend, “more troubled than usual.”

“I’m sorry to worry you but everything’s fine.” Vash shakes his head.

“Vash,” you implore gently, shaking his arm a little. “I can tell something’s bothering you. Won’t you tell me?”

“Ah,” Vash says weakly, “it’s alright.” And he looks ahead, out at the horizon. You follow his gaze. There's nothing out there but the line of land in the distance.

“Thanks for standing up for me tonight but you should—you should go find him. He’ll be waiting for you.”

And then Vash drops your arm and walks away, his head down, a little furrow to his brows. And you watch him go, dumbfounded.

When you return to Wolfwood, he’s waiting for you on the porch of the little inn you're staying at, smoking a cigarette.

“What the hell was that all about?” He gruffs, blowing the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

You don’t answer him at first. You slip into his lap easily. He raises his eyebrows in slight surprise, but immediately adjusts, one hand around your waist, the other holding his cigarette away from you.

“You need to leave him be.” You say, sighing as you sink into his embrace.

He pauses for a moment, looks at you—really looks at you.

Then he says, “he wants you, you know.”

“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous? Is that why you’re pestering him?” You rub your knuckle against his stubbly jaw, pet him a little. He leans into the touch, nudging himself against your hand.

"You like him?" He asks instead.

"Course I like Vash." You hush, fingers moving to card through his hair.

He takes a slow drag from his cigarette before he leans away to blow the smoke away from you. It lingers in the air around him and for a moment, you look at him through the haze. The smell of it reminds you so thoroughly of him nowadays that you almost crave it when its not around.

"No," Wolfwood corrects, "do you like him the way you like me?"

"You think I like you?" You tease, but he doesn't take kindly to that and jostles you in his lap a little and even goes so far as to jerk his head away from your touch.

"Woah, take it easy," you say, realizing he really didn't like that joke, "I was only playin' with you. I'm in your lap, aren't I?"

He softens a little. Lets go of a breath. He squeezes your waist, maybe in apology. To soothe the ache, you lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw, pepper them lightly down his neck.

"You didn't answer the question." He mumbles and you feel more than you see him flick his cigarette down and crush it with the heel of his shoe. He pulls you closer now that his other hand is free, slots you tight against him, and leans back to give you more room at his neck.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?" You murmur, carefully kissing at the pulse in his neck. You hide there.

"If i was?"

"You aren't good at sharing?" You coo, nudging your nose against his jaw, up to catch him in a quick kiss. He nips a little in answer.

"Not usually," he finally says.

"Not even with Vash?" You ask, because you know him better than he'd like to admit. And now you pull away to look at him.

To really look at him.

His eyes flick away, maybe bashfully, "yeah, well—I don't think I'm the one you have to worry about."

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He shrugs a little, "you think cause he puts up the goody-two-shoes act that it makes him good with sharing?" He asks, "why do you think he's gotten so pissed with me lately?"

You hum in acknowledgement. "Have you been rubbing it in?" You ask.

"Not intentionally." He says. And then when you look at him more pointedly, he admits, "not intentionally most of the time."

"Well, we'll see if Vash can share." You finally say and lean again to kiss him.

But in a sudden move, he grabs your chin, forces you still. Forces you to look at him.

"Only Vash, you hear me?" He says. His eyes are dark suns, all encompassing and imploring and fiery, "anyone else and I'll lose it."

You can't tell if it's a warning with the slight waver in his voice or a threat, with the growl behind the end of it. And then you remember scared dogs bite.

"Only Vash." You swear, "only you."

He settles a little, leans back again, and this time, when you kiss him, it's harder. More a claiming than a kiss — more a damning than a passion. He gives it back tenfold.

He litters you in little marks, in his scent, and drops his blazer around your shoulders in the morning. At breakfast, right in front of Vash, he catches you in a sharp, burn of a kiss.

More of a claiming. More of a damning.

***

When you sleep with Vash for the first time, it’s after a near-death experience. You were being reckless. The room is charged.

And Vash kisses you not like it’s the first time, but like it could be the last. He's the heat of a falling star, searing you, devouring you. He's all desperation. All starvation.

You'd thought with how sweet he usually was, that he'd be even more well behaved than Wolfwood, but that is far from the truth. He's a little untamed, untrained and clumsy and ferocious.

He whines as he takes you apart and you think he'd probably take praise well if you could teach him but right now he's just so— raw. So yearning and famished with it all.

You've no choice but to try and give everything you can in hopes of soothing him in some way. Filling the emptiness in him. And even still, you're aching and sore and torn-up after all is said in done.

Vash is bashful and a little remorseful about it come morning.

But you twine your arms around him and kiss him hard in reassurance. In encouragement.

He's passionate and all-encompassing. He's all your world in this moment.

You adore him.

Later, when Wolfwood sees the marks he left on you, he curses.

"Is he a fucking vampire?" He asks, tilting your head to the side to see the dark bruise in the side of your neck. But then he realizes how tender you are still, how aching, and he coos all soft.

Tells you he'll lick the wounds Vash gave you.

Says. I told you it wasn't me you had to worry about.

Vash avoids you and Wolfwood for nearly two days.

On the third, he finally breaks.

And when he does, he bundles you in his red coat after a long day, fists his hands in the collar of it to pull you towards him, and kisses you hard in front of Wolfwood, underneath the dark heavens above. He says he'll be back later.

Your lip throbs from the nip of his teeth.

(When Wolfwood kisses you shortly after, pushing Vash's coat from your shoulders, he soothes the sting with his tongue.)

***

For awhile, all the boys do is fight when they're around each other. It's getting to a point where Meryl is avoiding them at all costs—and you're just short of joining her.

The worst of it is on one of the hottest days in a long time.

Wolfwood says something he shouldn't—asks Vash if he could smell his cologne on you. Asks if he likes it.

It's too far. Usually, they bicker and fight over unrelated, stupid shit.

But that strikes a nerve.

And it's so fast that you don't even catch it, and suddenly Vash has Wolfwood pinned against the wall, hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

You always thought, maybe just on height and weight alone, that Wolfwood was stronger. But looking at Vash now, easily pinning him, you aren't quite sure.

"Oh, you wanna finally fight?" Wolfwood asks, baring his teeth, too.

And really, it's like when dogs fight.

It's fast and vicious. It sounds worse than it is—snarling and growling and wrestling with each other. It's artless. You've seen them both in a fight and this isn't—this isn't that. It's better, maybe, on Wolfwood's end. He's not trying to kill Vash. But maybe it's also worse, more personal, more brutal.

You hear Vash yelp—Wolfwood curses. More fighting.

You yell at them, the way you shout at fighting dogs, grab hold of Wolfwood around the collar and pull hard enough that he stops from his place over Vash, panting.

His mouth is bloody and it drips down onto Vash, his teeth still bared and crimson.

For a moment, they look at each other.

(And Vash thinks wildly, looking up at Wolfwood, sorry about the blood in your mouth. I think I wish it was mine. He tastes blood himself and wonders if it is Wolfwood's. If he really did bite him.

Wolfwood thinks, hit me again. If that's all you'll give me now, I'll take it. Wolfwood looks down at Vash, feels his heaving chest beneath him, and thinks, if I can only have you this close in a fight, I'll take that, too.)

You're cursing them both out, hauling Wolfwood off of him. You're furious and shaking and you're scolding them both.

You're fussing over them both, too, angrily wiping at their mouths and inspecting their wounds.

And they both think, maybe I should pick more fights, to see you like this, too, flustered and livid and worried. Doting. Adoring.

You shake your head at the both of them but—

You adore them.

***

It takes another man sniffing around you for them both to finally get on the same page.

And if it's one thing about Vash and Wolfwood, for all their bickering and differences, they know when to shut up and work together.

The moment another man starts chatting you up at the bar, they both go still and silent.

"You see what I'm seeing?" Wolfwood asks.

"Yeah," Vash says, eyes narrowing behind his glasses as the man manages to make you laugh. He leans all close to you. Vash has a near visceral reaction to jerk up from his seat beside Wolfwood.

Wolfwood grabs his arm.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' then?" He asks.

Vash spares him only a glance—his eyes are trained on you and the man at your side. He grimaces. "Probably not. I don't wanna kill him."

Wolfwood barks out a laugh as Vash adds, "but I don't want him here, either."

"You wanna chase him off?" He asks. "Or you want me to be the bad guy?"

Vash swallows.

"She'll get mad at me for being an asshole. She'll be all pleased with you for being so good." He says and there's a dryness to his tone, a certain resignation or—

"Why would you do that?" Vash asks and he finally peels his eyes away long enough to look at Wolfwood.

To really look at him.

He shrugs, "I don't mind being in the dog house."

Vash eyes him.

Wolfwood smiles a little, "and I think she's hot when she's mad."

Vash frowns at that, a little twitch of his lips, almost in a pout. "Besides that—I meant—why would you do that for me?"

Wolfwood looks back over at the man at the bar, whose gotten even closer to you, his shoulder almost brushing yours. You're smiling and playing nice. Wolfwood's hackles rise. He bristles. He finally stands, too.

He never feels this way when he sees you with Vash. He never feels this way on the nights when Vash has you. In fact, the idea of it is—it's—

Kissing you after Vash. Knowing he'd just kissed you. Sinking his teeth into the ridges of marks Vash leaves on you, like he's trying to get his own taste. Or compare his teeth to Vash's. Maybe he growls and snaps at him and bares his teeth the next day, too, but he never feels like this.

Scared and mean and angry and—

"What, are you gonna make me fuckin' say it?" Wolfwood snaps.

"Say what?!"

Wolfwood slugs his arm hard. The flesh one, so he doesn't damn near break his knuckles doing it. And Vash yelps all high and Wolfwood wants to shake him and he also sorta wants to hit him again. And maybe he wants to kiss him stupid, too—

"I don't—" Wolfwood swallows hard, "I don't mind sharing. With you. With only you."

Wolfwood looks at him.

Really looks at him.

And then Vash turns the deepest shade of red.

Wolfwood's face gets hot all over, too. "Oh, Christ, blondie—did you really not know?"

"I don't know what I thought!" Vash says and his voice gets sorta high.

"Well—" Wolfwood shifts, uncharacteristically nervous, "what about—I mean, do you—are you okay sharing...with me?"

"At first, I thought I wasn't." Vash admits, "and I was jealous of—" he swallows, "I was jealous of both of you, if I think about it. You're just—you push my buttons more than she does—so. I took it out on you, mostly."

"Ah," Wolfwood says, "you took it out on her, too. Just in a different way."

Vash cheeks somehow get darker with color and Wolfwood laughs, realizing that he's—it's relief. He feels relieved, finally, as he laughs.

"You're a dumbass." He says to Vash.

And Vash smiles at him, crooked and boyish and stupidly handsome. That smile that Wolfwood has always liked.

Wolfwood then turns his gaze back to you, back to the man at the bar whose leaning in all close. He sees you tip away, adjusting your space. And he says;

"Now let's go get our girl."

The moment Wolfwood comes up behind you, you know there will be trouble unless this man doesn't leave quick — what you aren't expecting, is Vash to come up on the other side of the man. You tilt your head.

You feel a broad hand on your lower back, "he botherin' you?" Wolfwood asks, leaning all into your space.

The man sizes up Wolfwood, weighing his chances still and you can nearly feel Wolfwood stiffen and bristle behind you. He doesn't like being challenged.

"He was just seeing if I wanted a drink."

Vash, on the other side of the man says, "maybe he'd like it if I bought him a drink instead!" And though it's said brightly, it's almost a little too bright.

Vash's eyes gleam like the cold edge of bright moons.

You look between them for a moment as the man says, "alright, what the hell is this? You her boyfriend or something?"

"Or something." Wolfwood agrees casually.

"And whose this guy?" He snarks to Vash, "her other boyfriend?"

"Or something." Vash says, still smiling, and that really pisses the guy off.

"Would you back up?" He snaps and he shoves at Vash enough that he stumbles away a few steps. And before he can do something stupid, you put yourself between Wolfwood and the man.

"Leave him," you say lowly to Wolfwood, whose hackles are raised.

Wolfwood isn't looking at you, he's looking at the man behind you and his eyes are hard and cold and mean looking.

"Nick," you say, "I don't want a bar fight."

"Worried he can't handle me?" The man asks, "no wonder you were letting me chat you up."

Wolfwood jerks a little in your hold and Vash speaks up, laughing a little, "no reason to fight! Wouldn't want to clean you up off the floor."

Well, that does it.

The man swings on Vash, who yelps a little, but easily evades him. When he ducks, the man connects with another person behind Vash.

Damn it all.

The bar breaks out in pandemonium. Wolfwood shoves you beneath him and Vash works on ducking and diving out of the way of the first few swings sent his way. Shouting and glass shattering, raining down from above, makes you curse.

Wolfwood dodges the first punch thrown his way and he shoves you out of the way, before he takes a swing himself. When he connects, it's a nasty punch. Blood erupts.

Food is getting thrown. Alcohol sailing overhead, soaking the fighting crowd and angering them further. The poor bartender is hiding, ducking behind the counter and shivering.

You clamber atop the bar to get a look and—it's a wild crush of people, fighting and wrestling and breaking glass over each other's heads.

You put your fingers to your mouth and whistle—the loud, piercing kind that usually gets everyone's attention. This time, there's so much noise and shouting, that not a soul stops their fighting.

You pull out one of your pistols.

The shot thunders in the bar, makes your ears ring.

Everyone gasps and yells in surprise, instinctively ducking, covering their heads. But they all finally turn to look at you.

"Everyone out!" You shout, "take your fighting elsewhere!"

Grumbles erupt. But you hold up your pistol and shout again, with more force and fire, "out!"

The bar begins to stir, all the patrons dislodging and shifting about, detangling themselves from their fights. They meander in knots of people, twisting out the door slowly.

When Vash and Wolfwood appear again, they look disheveled and Vash's lip is busted. Wolfwood's sunglasses are shattered. You put your hands on your hips as you look down at them.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with you two?" You snap.

Wolfwood reaches up to lift you right off the bar and back onto the ground in front of him. He shrouds you, "nurse our wounds?" He asks.

"You're a pain in the ass. I told you I didn't want a bar fight."

"He didn't throw the first punch, in his defense." Vash speaks up, but he's talking sorta funny because of his lip, which is swelling even now.

You sigh, "let me see."

Vash siddles up to you, a little sheepish, with that puppy-dog look on his face. He bends down a little, so you can get a better look at his face, dipping his head down in a show of submission.

Woflwood, behind you, whistles. "That's a good one, blondie."

"Hurts." Vash says as you carefully inspect it, debating if he'll need stitches or not.

"You gonna kiss it better?" Wolfwood asks.

"Why don't you?" You snark back, "since you two are finally working together it seems."

Vash smiles a little, which makes him wince, which makes you scold him. Wolfwood laughs, cooing a little, before he says, "alright, alright—lets get him patched up."

And you walk out with them at your skirts, hovering around you, dogging your steps. They follow you all the way back into your little room at an inn on the edge of the world.

And they settle in like they both own the damn place.

Wolfwood is tormenting Vash a little, whose whining and coming to your side for aid. But they're both—getting along, at least. And they're both demanding all your attention and taking up space in your room and—

And you adore them. You adore both of them, even with all their damn dogfights.

[yumiyawning]

upset!reader x touch starved!Sakusa

cw: YEARNINGGGGGG, sakusa is a whiny little bitch, he gets into business!!!!!, reader gets slightly pissed, bratty!sakusa, pining, longing, roomate!sakusa, sakusa only lets reader touch him, he KNEELS guys, like knees touching the carpet, actually ill turn this into smut, oral (reader receiving), spit mentioned, this is so filthy oh my goodness

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who since you became his roommate, somehow always ends up having his hands on you. From light grazes of his hands on your back when passing by in the kitchen, to firm hands on your hips to steady you when you get home drunk. He just can't seem to get his hands off of you or function without having your presence nearby. When he first met you, he didn't act like that; matter of fact, you were touchier than him, but somewhere along the way, he fell under the spell of your touch.

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who, according to your friends, always follows you like a lost puppy; but, to be honest, he is one. A foolish, lovesick fool, that follows you around, towering over your surroundings, making it impossible for potential suitors to approach you. At first, you don't notice, and it's almost comical how clueless and oblivious you look next to his menacing, dark presence that softens immediately when you intertwine your fingers with his. Whatsoever, Kiyoomi isn't only craving your presence, everything linked to you just makes its way into his heart (and head!)

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa who is a massive pervert, staring discreetly at the way your pants hug your ass just right or the light shift of your blouse, revealing your cleavage and turning his brain into a puddle of mush. And oh— if you thought he'd only do that? oh how wrong you are. He uses his closeness to take a slight sniff of your jasmine scent, touch lingering into your skin, making you wonder if these touches were really casual. Another thing he does, much to your unawareness, is sniffing and stealing your panties :(. Picture this, unapproachable Sakusa Kiyoomi, a feared man on campus, tucking your panties from underneath his pillow at night and burrowing his face in them, inhaling your scent, while palming himself and groaning, wishing to, one day, get the real deal; he likes your touch, he does! but he would never risk getting you uncomfortable by his antics :(

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who notices your relationship slowly shifting from friendship to....something deeper, filled with an intense connection. You can't really blame him here, do friends usually cuddle and kiss before going to sleep? Do they stare at each other longingly, eyes full of awe and want? Do their touches linger, basking into the other's warmth? Kiyoomi knows you guys are more than friends, but he doesn't want break the spell yet, so he stays silent and enjoys your ever-so needed presence.

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who is now frustrated, fumbling around his bed, feeling reckless and full of irritation. No, not towards you, towards himself for even planning his plan. Earlier that night, you and him went to a party, and while he doesn't like parties, he likes you, so he bears with it. However, after a few shots, his confidence shot up and he cockily, yet drunkenly, said "I don't need you that much, do I?" Like a stupid idiot. And you, little ol' you, didn't like that confident tone one bit. So you had to decided, as a "punishment", to ignore his scowls and needy grunts, as he was begging for your attention and/or touch.

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, whom after maybe ten minutes of reluctantly sleeping alone, gets up, actually teary eyed and huffs, before walking down the hallway to your room, sniffling like a crybaby. He knows he's acting ridiculously but he can't help but seek your warmth! :(; So he knocks on your door, all messy hair, flushed cheeks and watery eyes, and you...you have a soft, weak heart, and him looking so pitiful tugs at your heartstrings. So you let him in. Like the weak person you are.

"What is it, hm?" You purr, knowing why he is here and fully appreciating his sub-ish behaviour, making his insides twitch with warmth, embarrassment scalding down his spine. "Am sorry" He mutters, avoiding your gaze, and it's difficult by how tiny you look next to him. You roll your eyes and sit on the edge of the bed, crossing your legs, unintentionally showing briefly your panties and making Sakusa whine under his breath."I thought you didn't need me tho?"

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who kneels on front of you, startling you as he burrows his thighs in your thighs with a groan, muttering and babbling incoherently in your thighs, whining and whimpering while gripping your thighs tightly. "Please, m'so sorry, I need you so bad, please can I have you? I promise I'll be good— I swear I won't be a brat anymore, I'm so sorry—". Looking down at him feels so...enchanting, this big mountain of a man, kneeling for forgiveness, how incredibly soft it makes you. But you don't say anything, too enamoured, to even think.

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who whimpers into your thighs, and gently parts them, looking up at you with dazed, needy eyes, "Please, let me make it up to you, I promise it will be good" he mutters, keeping your thighs parted, eyes glued to your slightly damp panties, and mentally thanking God when you manage a weak nod, still surprised by his obvious want. "Thank you— thank you so much— I'll make it so good— just lay there and take it— Jus'wanna feel you—" he mutters into your thighs, inhaling sharply the scent of your arousal and oh— he almost comes right then, right there; your plush thighs twitch into his hands as he press small kisses and bites into your pliant skin. Kiyoomi looks up at you as you shiver, face flushing, and gripping the sheets tightly, probably too embarrassed to grip his hair, for now.

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who presses his nose into your panties, groaning lowly at the addictive scent "Can I tell you a secret?" he whispers and blows air on your -now completely damp- panties, melting your back in such a pretty arch and making your eyes flutter shut with a nod. "I've been thinking about you, about this for so long, I've even stolen a couple pair of your panties—" He whispers, pulling your panties to the side, and staring obscenely at your wet arousal, before tentatively gliding his tongue across your opening, humming into you as you let out the prettiest sigh. His hands slide up from your thighs to the curve of your ass and guides you right against his face, and he starts absolutely devouring you. Tongue lapping up your entrance, before sucking toying with your sensitive clit, making you whine and your hands fly to his neck and hair, as he sloppily makes out with your entrance, spitting in your hole before licking right back, pussydrunk.

Ⳋ᧙ touch starved!Sakusa, who makes you cum on his tongue, and keeps eating on you, until he has to physically hold your legs on his shoulders, to avoid having them slip off him; after all, he needs your touch all the time!:) By the time you pull him away by his hair from your glistening folds, his bulge now looks uncomfortably big and he has came in his pants twice. "M'sorry— I can't stop—" He whimpers against your lips, completely uncaring of where his lips were, just a few minutes ago; but it's not like you care too, actually, you enjoy it! His arms surround you, his own hardness pressed against your wetness, and he leans down to whisper with a puff of air in your ear "Can I fuck you, please?". You look up at him, with a small smile, because of course you'd let him fuck you, especially when being all obedient and submissive!!!

彡AN: ....hey guys.....😜 I finally made a comeback...! jokes aside, I'M FINALLY BACK and to be honest I didn't actually want to write a smut but it changed 😛😛😛 anyways my beloved, this is kind of atrocious I've never written oral smut so 😞😞 let me know your impressions, mwahh love you guys dont forget to eat, drink and sleep well!!💞💞💞

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽: @the0ishere , @nekomaniac , @wordsofelie , @cherriteaa , @blvewave , @stellar-headquarters , @irisintheafterglow , @abitopiia 💓

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: "La Mentira" by Luis Miguel!!

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

Good things are hard to come by in the desert, but surprisingly, not drugs. Alliances are forged over questionable motivations. A real romance takes root. 

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [10] [12] [Chapter Index]

11 * Sucker Punch [9k]

"My, my, my what a position:

The love of my life smokin' crack in the kitchen,

Lovely long nails and a nasty half grin:

"It's a livin'," she shrugs."

Some Kind Of Disaster Relief - The Taxpayers

        "Hey." You turn on your side away from the noise. "Hey." Louder. "Goddamn it," your cot was jostled under your form, "wake up shithead." 

        You peel open an eye to find Tracksuit leaned over the bed. The sun pierced through the porthole. Everyone else had gone searching, leaving him on babysitting duty. His life had been threatened approximately five times that very morning and hearing you hiss, "What?" Made you particularly unlikable in the moment.

        He stopped jostling the bed. Considered leaving you to get fucked but remembered- this was like being a producer. Nudge things the right way and the desired outcome should occur. His was mild entertainment and not the group eating itself alive so he said, "They sent me after you two last night." 

        Now you were sitting upright, bug eyed. "What-"

        "I heard you two mashing pissers-" 

        "Excuse me?" You shot out of bed, standing unsteadily.

        "-And I turned around and told 'em you were yelling at Omni Boy or whatever. I covered for you asses for like, twenty minutes. Do you know how many times I had to stop those guys from going after you? Too many. Almost beat the shit outta me and there I go thinking' you'll be smart and not super obvious. You come back, go right to sleep like you just got hit with the best dick of your life- like are you kidding?" His hands tangle in his hair. "Oooh, you're so lucky we're not full blooded dude. They would'a been able to smell that."

        "We didn't-"

        "I know fuckin' when I hear it, toots, don't even." His hand came to your face to shut you up, pressing to your lips, other arm securing you in place, "What I'm sayin' is, if they say shit to you about it at the fire tonight, you were laying into him but not laying him, ya hear? Cuz they ain't stupid, they know somethin' went down between you two and if I get caught lying- I'm fucked cuz I don't want those stupid assholes fighting and collapsing the caves- you know our only fucking source of water so sue me-" He stops himself from going on a tangent while you're effectively muted. 

        Your eyes narrow. Hands come to his wrist to peel his hand off your mouth to tell him to die. He holds firm, but not enough to hurt. 

        "Relax! I'm not a snitch and I don't fuckin' care. I just wanted to warn you that the next time you go romping around- be fuckin' careful, dude. If any of those guys went instead of me? They would'a intervened- we wouldn't be runnin' outta jerky, ya kno' what I mean. Nod if you get it." You nod. "Okay, alright, cool, I'm gonna take my hand away now and you're not gonna freak your shit on me."

        His palm, calloused and slightly sweaty unlatches from your cheeks. The arm that held your waist in place fell away. You step back. Your head swivels left, right. Double-checking you were alone. "You heard us?" 

        Under the mask his brows peak. "I'm shocked nobody else did, dude. You were like," his voice pitches, hands go to his knocking knees and chest puffing perversely, "Uhhhhnggg, fuck me Markus."

        "Shut up." He went ridged, quiet. Looks like your powers had returned for the day. You weren't foolish enough to make him hurt himself. He'd get back up and do you worse. Being found alone with his neck snapped on the cave floor also wasn't a good plan.

        He broke free about ten second later, shaking himself off like your control was slime on his skin. "Eugh, that feels like ass."

        "Don't make me do it again." You stand, stretch, feel your back crack. Find your dried underclothes neatly folded on Omni's side of the cot.        

        Tracksuit follows your gaze. "He's also not hiding it, awesome. I'd say it was nice knowing you assholes but- it hasn't really been."

        You pick up the clothes. "This doesn't mean anything."

        "That he folds your clothes like some house husband? I couldn't imagine doing that even for some bitch who gave my the messiest sloppy of my life. That's like, love, dude." 

        Your stomach curdles. "It's not." You check the multiple openings in the cave walls, where anyone could be returning at any time. "Keep your voice down."

        "I'm not being anywhere loud as you." He snickers. "Marrrrkusss, unngggnhh!"

        "Shut up, turn around."

        He did. You quickly took off the top of the armor and slapped on the tank top. You were pulling off the solider pants, back to Tracksuit when the control snapped. "You gotta- whoa! Whoa! No! I don't care how nice your ass is, I'm not getting killed over mediocre pussy!"

        You leap into the shorts. "You were supposed to stay turned around." You grab the pants and boots off the ground, slipping them back on. "And please, don't flatter yourself."

        Though your ass was hidden under tighty-whiteys, he still watched it. "I mean, you flattered him, who is also me, plenty last night."

        "Want to find out how hard you can hit yourself?" You toss the empty threat.

        He caught it. "Kind of, but I don't wanna end up lookin' like Seven. Lensless, you called 'im?" He sat pressed against the wall. "Crazy son of a bitch." Out of his pocket came that pack of alien cigarettes. Nine down to six he smoked in secret so nobody would ask for a hit. He caught your eye, "You don't plan on going out today, do you? Anywhere you could go they've already mapped beyond it like, a hundred times." He pulled the curtain from his face and tucked it to his left ear. Revealing the low of his face- Mark's. "Dunno how nobody's found shit yet."

        ***

        Sand. Lots and lots and lots of sand was shoved into every unused crevice. Mushy mold and mildew that he helped the bugs propagate, just to use as wall padding. Their super hearing was nowhere near full-blooded Viltrumite level, but he couldn't risk the others finding his personal paradise to share with you.

        It'd be ready soon, if all went to plan. Just you, him, bugs, and the dark.

        ***

        You knew you were near useless in this survival situation. They were aliens, nearly God-like. You were a doll to throw around. You yearned for normal people, to play with them the way the Marks played with you. To be in some sort of control.

        You consider leaving, knowing Tracksuit would be obligated to follow. But you also consider the more you moved, the more they'd feed you of Emperor at the campfire tonight. You could barely stomach what you'd already eaten. Puking was a constant, round the corner threat.

        The blue-wrapped cigarette was placed between his lips. A blur passed over his face and it was lit, glowing green at the end. He takes a drag, relaxing fully against the stone. A pillar of smoke forced out between his teeth, light gray, and smelling of coriander. He catches you staring and holds up the side of his hand, "Don't need a lighter when ya got friction." 

        You point at the thing. "Give me a hit."

        He leaned forward, held the cigarette out to you, glowing end first. You take it in two fingers and place it into your mouth. The pale filter still damp with his spit. (You hadn't smoked in a long time / You'd never smoked) and were nervous to see how this would go. If alien tobacco would kill you or not. You don't think, feel the hold loosening, so you suck it down.

        Lemongrass and rotten laundry had a baby that shit acid down your throat- that's what it felt like. You jerked, folding forward, hacking up wispy clouds of smoke and spittle. The control breaks and the cigarette is snatched away. Your hands are propped on your knees. You could only see his boots as tears stung the corners of your eyes.

        "I'd whoop your ass for that," the cigarette is placed back where it belonged between his lips, "but you're kinda doin' that for me."

        You'd curse him if you could.

        "Dude, this shit kills like, most alien species. Didn't you look at the warning on the box?" He points at a struck-through red circle with alien looking lungs in the middle. "No baby-shit lungs can touch this shit."

        "Obviously," you hack out the syllables one by one, trying hard not to puke on your shoes, "I didn't."

        "No dip." It pissed you off how easily he breathed the acrid air in. 

        You straighten up, pounding your chest, "What's in that?"

        "Uhhhh," he flipped the box in his hand, squinting behind the lenses, "a hundred percent pure Loethicainian root. Huh, thought it was laced with something else."

        "You didn't even know what was in it before you started smoking it?" Your voice cracks. Throat feeling like an uncleaned chimney after one puff.

        "You didn't either." The box disappeared into his pocket. His palm outstretched in front of you, "Alright, now give it."

        "What?"

        "You took a hit'a my shit, I'ma take a hit'a yours." His fingers flexed, "Hand it over."

        You flinched back, hands going defensively to your pockets. "No way."

        "I could just take it, but I'm being nice and asking."

        That was true. You preferred to have some dignity, so you pulled out a bottle. "Just don't over-"

        The lid was crushed off the top, thrown aside. He knocked his head back, thumb punching a hole in the bottle bottom. Cigarette held off to the side in his spare hand. The bottle was shotgunned before you could blink.

        "-dose."

        He groaned, threw the bottle to the floor. "Tastes like shit."

        "So does that." You watch him chase the bitter cough syrup taste with a pull off the cigarette. Man had taste buds of steel.

        He shrugged, "Ya get used to it. When's it supposed to kick?" He sat himself on the closest cot. Gray's. He'd definitely notice things shifted about but Tracksuit couldn't care less.

        "Uhm, I thought you've done codeine before?" 

        "Nah, buddy Rex did, though. Guy did everything he got his hands on." He sighed, hands going behind his head, now sprawled on Gray's cot. "Miss 'im."

        You stand by the cot edge, watching him smoke. Feeling no difference beside the burning in your throat. Maybe one hit wasn't bad. "That Guardians of The Globe dickhead?"

        Tracksuit smiled around the cigarette. "He made it to The Guardians in your world? Good for him."

        You sit, pulling the last bottle of codeine out of your pants. "Should be a half hour before that kicks in. You sure you'll be fine? That's way more than most people can take. I don't feel like eating you." Though there was enough of Emperor left to last you all a week at this rate. Hell, all of him hadn't been smoked yet. Apparently without green plants to burn there was less smoke, the process took days longer. What hadn't been cooked yet started to rot. Gray set aside the first cooked, stalest, safest jerky for you to eat. You hadn't today, though you should.

        "I'm an alien." He laughs, "I'm smoking the cheapest, but deadliest smokes in the galaxy. I'll be cool." 

        You tell yourself you don't care, that you're just killing time but you still ask. "So Rex Splode." You'd never met the guy but there was news here and there. People he saved said he was a douche, reckless, almost got them killed while saving them. 

        "We slummed it together awhile." He blew smoke past your shoulder to the ceiling. "Roommates while my parents were figuring out their relationship shit. Cuz like, Dad sprung all that crazy alien-invasion shit on mom and she was like 'what the fuck?' And who would want to live with those assholes anyway? Like rabbits those two, then they'd get on my ass for bein' loud. So, Rex 'n I got ourselves this piece 'a shit place in Queens. Roaches all over the place, you should'a seen it." He talked plenty but not normally this much, not so openly. Whatever hundred percent pure Loethicainian root was chilled him the hell out.

        "I lived in New York," you crack the bottle, "I know." You knock your head back. Feel the sour syrup slide cross your tongue. Your body goes slack, like all your problems have been solved when it hits your throat. You flop onto the cot beside him. 

        "Crazy how I never met you." He says, and you can feel his eyes on you. "And everyone else but that one dude is all over you. Makes me wonder."

         You tilt the bottle forward, cut yourself off before you really wanted to. High soon to go feather-light in your dome. "If you're gonna get all misty-eyed on me I'm fucking off." 

        "'M not." He says, "Just wonder how it didn't happen." He keeps out the part he'd been wondering about lately. That maybe, if he'd had you, things wouldn't have gotten so messy. Rex wouldn't be dead. That Eve bitch wouldn't be alive with the resistance. His Dad would've never called the Viltrum Empire to Earth. Things would've been normal and he could've lived his life doing fuck-all-bullshit till he died in a million years. Dad made sure things didn't dice out that way. 

        He could hardly see how you'd change a thing. Why you and Mark Grayson seemed to be so inter-dimensionally intertwined. Was it just cuz he was biologically wired to think your ass was nice?

        "Tell me about your Rex." He said instead. 

        You did, as much as you remembered from the papers. You mostly avoided supes, bad for business if you were caught. Worse for you if they wound up being psychic and didn't listen. Tracksuit listened aptly, smoking the cigarette down to the filter. 

        The high began to wax. Your brain felt fat in your head, skull gone, cheeks like jelly, everything easy. You'd missed being high. Angsted that the only reason you were was because of Mark. Always because of Mark. 

        You're looking down at Tracksuit, elbow on knee when you say, "I really hate him, you know."

        "The other me?"

        "Yeah." You can't get over how good he looks with a septum, even though you can't see his whole face. You wonder if there are any more piercings, any scars to further differentiate him. "Yeah, that dickhead." The words spill out, stupid, slow. "Ruined my life, that..." What's the word? "Dickhead." Yeah, exactly.

        Tracksuit flicked ashes onto the ground and dusted them away. Gray would notice later anyway. He couldn't care, these details were juicy. "What'd he do?"

        "He-" You look up to the porthole. Watch sand specs idly floating in the sun. Then you are there in the sunbeam. Naked, glowing, floating.

        You fall hard next to Tracksuit. He jumps up, watching you twitch. "Shit!" He'd forgotten you'd taken a hit of his cigarette. That you probably had minutes left to live at best. "Shit! Hey!" He shakes your shoulders but your eyes, rolled back to your skull, don't fix. You are stiff, then twitching, stiff, then twitching. 

        Then you're upright like a bolt cracking your skull against his, "What?" 

        He is unaffected, head like a cinder block. "I thought you were like, seizing." 

       "Me too." You rub your pulsing forehead, the only part of your head you could feel. 

        His breathing, that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, hitched, began to even. "Scarred the piss outta me." 

        "Me too." 

        "Sure you're not still seizing or whatever?"

        Your muscles contract tight, tighter, then let go. "Think I'm just..." Your fingers find your eyes, push into the lids. Thinking slow. "I'm just stressed and that Loethicainian shit is making me tic." Better than being dead.

        "I mean yeah, you almost starved to death and now you've got like," he counts on his fingers, "seven super crazy boyfriends. No, six, and husband guy."

        "I'm not dating a guy who killed a different version of me in literally any timeline." You looked around for any broken hearted faces but find none. 

        "I don't think all of 'em did." He says.

        "A concerning amount of them have." 

        His arms go out to his sides, defensive, "We've all killed people. It's not that big a deal. You're still alive."

        "Not my Mark." You leave out the 'not on purpose' part. The Chicago disaster part. "He didn't kill people." You don't know why you feel the need to go to bat for him.

        "Good for him I guess, but he's a giant pussy."

        Your lips thin, defense came up your throat just to be swallowed because Tracksuit was right. "His girlfriend got hurt when you guys came," you start, unable to look at him and his stupid Mark face, "he wouldn't leave her. She was unconscious and probably would've told him to go help, but he wouldn't. Refused to fight you guys. I know he could've taken more of you out but he just-" You shrug, hands slapping against you thighs, "He was just a giant pussy."

        You lick at the codeine bottle edge just for the taste. You recap it before you lapse into shotgunning the whole thing and dying on the cave floor. 

        "Wow. That's insane." Tracksuit didn't care much for humanity or anyone in his life these days, but he couldn't imagine not fighting. Deciding one person was worth the effort to ignore everything else. 

        "Right?" You felt vindicated. You needed him to know, "I've killed more people on purpose than he has. He won't even kill people that he knows will bust outta prison. Just, lets 'em go and-" You laughed, shaking your head, like it was no big deal, like your sad, angry little life didn't revolve around him. Who cares about Mark when you're getting high with a different Mark? Mark would've never touched a cigarette let alone shotgun codeine just to try it.

        "He broke up with me." Words come out in a hot puke spray. Tracksuit's head snaps to you. Surprised you'd share anything about yourself with him of all people- seemed like you only shared to hurt the others' feelings. "It ruined my life."

        He's quiet a moment before saying, "Dick that good?"

        "No. I just-" Your fingers press to your eyes, head light, spinning. You knew you shouldn't tell anybody but keeping it in felt so bad. And you just wanted to feel good again, enjoy the high the same way you enjoyed Omni's fingers. Purge. "I did something for us, and it went so bad, and I just- God. He didn't want me or the baggage I came with." You felt like you were about to cry so you unscrewed the codeine for one more sip. Wouldn't kick in for awhile but you couldn't stand feeling like this. 

        "I'm not a snitch if you wanna spill." He offered. You accepted. Reluctantly at first, voice low so if anyone came back they wouldn't overhear. It was bad enough telling Mark Grayson how Mark Grayson ruined your life. It'd be worse if the Mark Grayson who murdered you and was still very much in love with you, overheard. They'd never let you live it down and you'd really end up killing them all, then you'd starve to death out here. 

        By the end, you were so high you didn't care that a few tears slipped here and there. You couldn't care much for anything at all, but at least Tracksuit was good company. 

        "That's majorly fucked up." He'd said when you finished. Among much more colorful commentary during your story. Calling you stupid for being head over heels for the first guy you fucked. For not finishing school. For falling for him of all people. "But, hey, we ever get back to that shithole? I'll help you whoop his pussy ass." It was the good nurtured chiding old friends did, that kind strangers do when they get high together. You knew it didn't mean anything, and you would never get to go home, but you smiled.

        "I'll introduce you to Rex." You say because you don't know Rex is dead. Tracksuit doesn't either. The thought is nice, as it is impossible.

        "How's that high treating you?" You ask.

        "Got nothin'." Tracksuit fidgets with his pocket, thinks of pulling out another cigarette but decides against it. "Pretty sure most Earth shit won't do anythin' to me so what's the harm in tryin'? You?"

        "I think." You don't think, lost a moment as your body tensed and untensed, "Whatever you gave me isn't agreeing with me but it's okay." What wasn't okay was how bored you were. Always sitting around or walking or eating dead guy meat. Lame. 

        You want to play, be entertained. You pull out your phone and try to find some meaningless game. Tracksuit leaned over your shoulder, watching you click through apps, a smile on his face.

        "You got any tunes downloaded on that thing?"

        You did, and he helped you pull them up. He had no clue what any of the words were. Who was singing. But that was okay. You lay together on Gray's cot, letting the music bounce off the ceiling and trash down onto your bodies. You were almost asleep when an angel came down, a shadow in the sunbeam.

        "I thought I heard something." You lifted your heavy head. 

        Baldie stood over the cot. Hairless brow raised at the scene. Fabric scraps in hand.

        "It's not what it looks like." Tracksuit raised his hands in mock defense. On high alert but not looking like it. "We're just hanging out, man."

        "Uh, I can tell?" He would've been suspect if any other variant had been laying with you. Not Tracksuit. He was stupid and inconsequential, but friendly enough. 

        You sat up to talk but stop. The light frames his muscle thick form like a halo's hug. Mark's expression on his face but not Mark's face, not with all the scars. He is him but so other and so beautiful like this and the music is so nice and you are absolutely fucking blasted.

        Your body tenses again. "Are you okay?" Baldie asks.

        You stand up shakily, body swaying slightly.

         "Hey, are you alright?" His hands go to the sides of your arms to steady you but you aren't seizing, you're dancing. Terribly. You're not happy, just high, and having recently cum. You're relaxed. Listening to music you intend to enjoy because fuck the misery. 

        "No." You say, "But dancing is better than just laying there while the universe dies." 

        "Hey!" Tracksuit said from the comfort of his back. 

        Baldie pauses. "You're... dancing?" He was unsure. Partly thought the movement a mild seizure. 

        "Guess I am."

        He's taken back. Four years ago, days before the fight with Dad. He had no idea what was coming. He could feel the anxiety coming off Mom in waves, it made him edgy. But he got to your apartment, floated out the window and found you dancing with a hungry dog you'd found in the street six months ago. Skin and bones now muscle and smooth fur. You held its front paws, going back and forth in little steps while the dog's tail wagged. The other rescues crowded around your ankles. 

        He landed next to you with a smile. Problems off in the wind. You traded paws for his hands and you dance together slow in the studio apartment kitchenette to the same music you played now. 

        He smiles, nostalgic for a past you didn't know, and takes your limp hand. Opens it gently with the press of a thumb. You let it happen, staring stupidly as his marred hand slipped into yours. He pulls you in, hand set at the small of your back. Then leads you to insanely unfitting music in a waltz he could barely remember the bones of. It was more like spinning in circles while holding your bodies together but you couldn't tell. You were high and in a sun beam and he was smiling at you and the music was so nice. 

        Tracksuit watches. Thinking good for you, get some more dick. And then thinking, Jesus I'm gonna have to run interference for this horny bitch till we all die out here.

        You're across the room now. Stepping on Baldie's feet because you're so high you can't coordinate your movements well. He thinks you're still half asleep and teases you. You laugh at something Baldie says, it's quick and you immediately try to hide the joy, but Baldie hears it and glows. Because for once, the laugh wasn't a nasty sound, but genuine.

        "Hey." Maskless is knelt beside Tracksuit's head, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. "Walk with me a sec."

        "Uh? Sure." He sat up.

        Maskless led him out of the cave, into the desert sun and miles away while you danced on. He landed in a skid, turning hot on Tracksuit when he came down.

        "You need to back off." He says.

        Tracksuit paused his landing trot, "What?"

        "Those guys ruined their lives for the chance to see her again. Don't get any stupid ideas that'll cost you." His finger found home in Tracksuit's chest. Honestly, Maskless didn't give two shits who you liked and didn't. He cared about keeping the peace. He cared about how he'd feel if he had William here and some douche who didn't know him was drooling to get in his pants. It was one thing for the other guys to want their ex, a whole insult for him not to even know you in his world. He wouldn't take sides, wouldn't tattle, but he'd watch and make sure Tracksuit's tracksuit stayed on for the good of the camp.

        "Whoa! You've got the wrong idea." He says it, but it's not entirely true. Tracksuit had been starting to appreciate your appearance a tad more these last few days. You were a whole helluva lot nicer when you were high and not starving to death. You were also probably a decent fuck and he really needed to cum, but that wasn't here nor there. "We're on the same side here. I'm not gonna do nothin' stupid just cuz she's hot, man."

        That was as earnest as Tracksuit got, but to Maskless it sounded like fuck boy bullshit. "You're going to get yourself and her killed if you keep acting all buddy-buddy. You can't lay on the same cot as her and ogle, they're not stupid."

        "Dude, were you watching us? That's super fuckin' creepy!" 

        Maskless's jaw hardened. "I wouldn't be surprised if another one of us was watching too. You weren't subtle. I didn't watch for very long, but it was long enough to see you staring at her ass."

        Tracksuit wasn't an unreasonable man, but a shortsighted one. A man who thought fists would tell the truth. "Then that's long enough to see I didn't tap it!" A fist was aimed straight for Maskless's chin. Sent him into the air. He spun, stopped the spiral a hundred feet up, face hard. Absolutely sure Tracksuit had a thing for you and absolutely sure he needed to kick common sense right up his ass. 

        ***

        The music died with your phone. After days of being used for flashlight navigation, it was bound to die. But did it really have to die at the best part of the song? You could mope but you didn't. Sleepily happy as Baldie guided you round and round. 

        Phantom watched from the dark. He'd picked up heat signatures from Maskless's body on the outskirts of the cave minutes ago. Knew he'd likely interfere somehow, Maskless wasn't stupid. He knew any blooming romances were a danger. Maskless should've broken you and Baldie up but instead he took Tracksuit outside. Allowed this to continue.        

        Phantom tells himself it's fine. You are happy. With someone else who is him, but not him. 

        He tries telling himself Baldie is a temporary creature of comfort. Like Omni clearly had been to you last night. None of this meant a thing.

        ***

        "Hey." Behind him. Lensless turned. Lost again a few minutes into exploring these stupid caves. Maskless had drawn him a mini map but Lensless was never one for directionality. 

        Scars was there, cloaked in the dark. Wearing that same old smile. 

        "Hi?" Lensless was perfectly friendly back, but his body was tense. Come on, a lone meeting in the dark was a prime murder locale. He'd done it himself enough times to know. 

        "I think we can help each other get what we want." Scars didn't have to say it was about (Y/n). He was just as obsessed with you, the new you, as Lensless was. That was why he'd gotten so lost in the first place, he just couldn't stop thinking about you using your powers on him. 

        Lensless was the perfect partner for the job. Slower than Scars in every aspect. Feared and discomforting in your eyes. And he wanted you to use your powers just as much as Scars did.

        ***

        You were floating on a euphoric cloud because you were dancing with Mark Grayson (and peaking on a codeine high). He smiles down at you, holding you. Dancing with you like he did when he came to your place after homecoming. You had been on the stoop crying with the night sky overhead, trying to keep the tears off your thrifted outfit. He'd missed the whole thing and you were majorly pissed, but he danced with you right there on the apartment stoop in his wrinkled suit. Apologies whispered into your ear, compliments as his hands ran over the clothes you'd picked for him.

        His excuse was terrible, pissed you off more, but you ended up forgiving him. You always ended up forgiving him. He was your first serious boyfriend, how could you not? You took him inside. Things escalated. You didn't feel different the next morning, though you told yourself they did. That being each other's firsts meant you'd be together forever.

        And now, five years down the line, you were in the same man's arms, but not really. Having just spilled your guts to also the same guy because the other guys who were also the same guy couldn't be trusted with that information. You were too high to think about it. That's what you liked about being high. Not forgetting things, but not quite being smart enough to remember.

        You don't know what does it. The sun shining through his black lenses, letting you see a sliver of eye through the material. Soft, drooped with scarring but looking at you so sweetly. Or was it the gentle touch you hadn't felt in so long? Calming and grounding, but not wanting, content with the moment. His lips, twisted as they were with old wounds, smiling for you, of all the rotten people in the world- for you.

        You kiss him without thought. Standing on your toes to get the angle right. His lips are opened, a question on the tongue that is soon forgotten. When he kisses back it's tentative, hesitant. Close mouthed and chaste. He wouldn't let himself taste too much of you. He knows he'll go mad if he doses on too much of your sweet belladonna. But you smile, kiss him again, and he can't resist pulling you closer.          

        Four years since he'd kissed you. The last one a quick goodbye peck, excited for a date the next day. He never got to see you again. Not the you he knew. You were warped and scarred compared to her, a mirror held up to himself. You were and weren't her. You understood him. 

        He let himself be poisoned with a kiss. Lips parting to let in your tongue.

        ***

        Hearing you tell Tracksuit about your Mark stung. Phantom wished you could've confined in him, but he understood. He wasn't a big talker. You needed someone to bounce off of. He could do that. He just preferred it to be just you and him when he did so. But no opportunities shone through, someone was always around. Listening and watching.

        But that was a bee sting compared to the gutting that was you kissing that marred thing with his name. It was a good thing, he told himself as he watched, you were still attracted to Mark Grayson as a concept. That's all this was, a proof of concept. But you just kept going and going and going. Kissing and kissing after obviously fucking Omni last night. Stabbing him in the heart as many times as you pleased. Did you even know how this made him feel?

        Fine. It was fine, really. He had to think as he took deep breaths through his nose. 

        It was fine because Baldie couldn't be in the caves longer than a few hours without growing agitated. He kept saying he heard things but Phantom's enhanced suit didn't catch them. Baldie was cracking up. Baldie was clearly your favorite and had to go. Which was fine, because Phantom knew just where to put him.

        ***

        He pulled away, flushed. "I'm sorry." He said, though he doesn't let you go. "Is this okay?"

        You'd had a taste for blood. Were in for more, voice low and wanting "More than okay."        

        He leans back in and stops himself. He knew you were acting strange from the get go, but let himself ignore it because you seemed happy and that's all he wanted. He saw it now, your constricted pupils, they way you relied on him to hold your weight. He had thought you were finally trusting him but he was wrong. "Are you-?"

        "High?" You finish for him. "A little." It's a lie.

        He feels the kiss was a lie. Illegitimate. He wanted you plenty but not out of your head. He wanted you steady and sure. Something to even out the roaring between his ears. His touch fell away. Your body followed after him but he avoids your advance.

        "I shouldn't." He knows but seeing you chase after him, eyes searching and lips parted, made him want you more. Which means he really, really shouldn't. "I'm sorry I didn't notice I-" 

        His teeth clack together when the fists come down on the back of his head. Body hammered feet down into the rock. You don't get to see it, already hundreds of feet above the porthole. Held by the middle where your body went slack against the arms caging you in. The pressing g-force ceased. You were far above the horizon. Above where anyone could hear you scream.

        You can see his legs, coated black, going into blue boots. Feel his body pressed to your back, grip tight around your middle. Fingerless gloved hands raking across the bare skin between your tank top and pants.

        "Hey," Lensless says against your ear.

        "Lan-" His hand didn't just press to your lips, no, he forced his fingers into your mouth. Dusty skin lathed across your tongue, forced to the back of your throat where you gagged, much to his enjoyment.

        "Much as I want you to, we're not doing that. Not yet." 

        He uses his hand in your mouth to puppeteer your neck. Makes you watch the fight below as it erupts into the desert. Baldie is pissed, but smart enough to know anymore underground thrashing could collapse the cave system- kill you all without access to water. 

        Scars is a yellowjacket blaze under the afternoon sun. Back for a surprise round two with the added stressor of you being held hostage in the sky. Baldie's distracted, keeps trying to pull from Scars to get to you and Lensless, but that's what Scars had been betting on. What they'd both been betting on. 

        Lensless doesn't let you go as he drops like an anvil directly into Baldie's flight path. His heels crack something in Baldie's back while Scars fist nearly punches a hole in his belly. When the impact is done, Baldie falls to the sand. Shirt torn, bruises already blooming under his skin. Blood pooling out the side of his mouth where some of his teeth had been knocked loose. 

        You screamed against Lensless's hand. Thrash in his hold as he climbs higher in the sky. Followed by Scars sporting a fully busted lens and a purple shiner. They matched in eyelessness, cruelty, and how much you wanted to kill them. 

        Lensless propped his head on your shoulder, observing your fit hopefully. "Are you gonna cry?"

        Scars laughs but says, "Your little boyfriend will be fine." That gets your attention on him. So full of hatred and intent to kill. Just like his (Y/n) before it drained out between his legs. He doesn't know if things will end the same and that's why he's here with Lensless. To change you, make you stronger by sheer force. "Just couldn't have him interrupting. He wouldn't get it."

        You bite Lensless's fingers hard as your jaw would allow, a growl vibrating through your body.

        "So weak," Lensless says but he's shivering in delight at the attempt. "But you should quit while you're ahead. If I get too excited, I think I'll crush you." He laughs at the idea. You wet and red and all over him, makes his cock twitch.

        Much as you hate listening, you do. "Good job." Lensless bumps the top of his head against your jaw. "I knew you'd listen." 

        "Don't praise her." Scars victorious smile melts as he stares you down. "You've been bad."

        You'd ask him what he meant if you weren't murderous and gagged.

        "You don't seem to get it. Those other guys, they're weak, useless. Couldn't take a bomb to the head like I can. They don't deserve you." He hovers closer, reaches between him and Lensless and holds up your chin. Fingers pressing hard to flesh. 

        Lensless pulls you back, out of his grip. A gesture that says 'it's not your turn with my toy, yet.' "Hey bud, you forget I'm also one of those guys?"

        Annoyance flashed across Scars exposed eye. "You're smart enough to work with me." He leaves it at that, no promises of trust or friendship. Lensless grip tightens, makes your bones ache, but he doesn't pull you back when Scars reaches out. Thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "But you. You've been letting them pass you around. I get it, you're sad, you're lonely, you're looking to fill the void. And you can do that! You're your own person. I just need you to remember at the end of the day- you belong to me. Everytime you lend your lips or cunt out them?" His pointer and thumb squeeze your lip, pinching it plump and buzzing. "I see it. I feel it. I keep a tally of everytime you let them touch you, everytime you betray me. Do you know what that tally's at?" His head tilts, waiting, though you literally can't reply.

        "Come on, answer him." Lensless jostles your rear with his knee. 

        Your hands, pressed to your sides by Lensless's arms, twitch. Scars notices, looks at them smiling. Up comes a single finger. Counting off your fuck with Omni or kiss with Baldie- he can't tell. Because it's your middle finger and he's laughing at you for daring to defy him.

        "I'll take that as an 'I don't know'." He sighs, "Everytime that number goes up, know that I'm waiting for them to leave you alone or with someone weak. And they will because they all are. So I'll find you vulnerable and alone," he leaned in, pinching your lip so hard drool started to seep onto his gloves, "and make you understand how bad I feel when you're with them. And if you're not strong enough to take it, you die." He's close enough to bite your lip. For you to feel the heat of his stale breath. Then he removes himself from your personal space all at once. Skin-crawling touch gone. 

        "Ready?" Scars asked.

        Lensless grins against your neck. "Oh hell yeah."

        The flesh gag was gone, but so was the arm around your torso. You hurdled to the dunes, softer than your human body but you'd splat like it was concrete on impact. You can only see the sky, the men falling either side of you, looking bored with terminal velocity. You snap, "Catch me!" 

        They both hurdle toward you, two sets of arms under your back. Stopping the decent slowly, not too sudden. When you're finally stopped, your heart is hammering in your chest, you're still far above the ground but no longer falling. Not safe because the men you controlled were no longer held under your will. They grin down at you. Satisfied before both sets of their arms fall away again.

        It's catch and release. They let you fall, scream a command with blood pouring out of your nose. They mock praise as they drag you back up high into the sky. By the third round, you've calmed enough to know what to do when Lensless catches you before Scars. You turn to him, grinning under the perpetual summer sun and say with a finger pointed at Scars, "Kill him."

        You are dropped because in Lensless's head, he can't kill Scars while holding you. The logic and semantics work against you. And again you fall screaming, "Catch me, catch me!" But he's too fast, too far away in the atmosphere with a fist poised for Scar's throat.

        ***

        Phantom watched the exchange. Let Baldie fall without help. Because he understood and agreed with what Lensless and Scars were doing. You did need to be stronger, needed to hold your own if you were to choose one of them. Work out that muscle of power because you'd let it go so slack in the desert. 

        He knew it'd happen sooner or later. You forcing them to attack each other, forgetting that morality and gravity don't mix. Scars tries to save you, he didn't want you to die even though he acted like it. Scars wanted you to suffer the slow creep of his corruption and not wilt, but thrive under it. Phantom understood this, didn't fault him for it. They were all creatures of some desire.

        Scars could not dodge around Lensless long enough to catch you. Your hold had been getting better once you'd started eating again. There was no telling how long Lensless would attack. Scars was ruthless, trying to kill him but just couldn't. The fact was, Lensless was the faster of the two.

        When you neared the ground, Phantom was there. Shot out of the porthole as a silent shadow, slowing you down then bringing you to a stop. Your unconscious body limp in his arms, stirring after a few seconds, as your body figured out it was still alive and not falling.

        You look up at him, shaking, nose bleeding, sun in your eyes. So beautiful, weak, alive. Your hand clinging to his chest enough to bandage the wounds you'd left him. 

        ***

        They lay beside one another in the sand. Skin burst open by sheer force. Sun beating down on their bodies.

        "You get it now, asshole?" Tracksuit tried not to sound winded, but he was. That gay little fucker could move.

        There was no reply. Tracksuit heaved up onto his elbows, thinking the other dead and more jerky was on the way.

        A few of his ribs were bruised but he breathed on. "You could've just talked to me instead of hitting me." Maskless said. 

        "I tried that, 'member?" Tracksuit flopped back into the sand.

        "Yeah, well, you're not very good with words." Maskless said with no bite.

        Tracksuit slapped him across the chest, earning a groan. "Nah, but I'm pretty good with a fist."

        Maskless smacked the hand away. "Don't flatter yourself." He sat up, sand falling off his shoulders. Insides pounding. "We should get back. If the others see them together, they'll lose it."

        Tracksuit ran a hand through his hair. All the gel he'd slopped through it before coming to your Earth gone clumpy and stale. "I just don't get it, man. Why can't they leave her alone? They're pushing her away by being freaks."

        "Because we're us." Maskless stood, "We can't leave these things alone. You wanted something bad enough to make a deal with Angstrom Levy, so you're no different from the rest of us."

        Tracksuit chuffed because the guy had a point. "I can. She's just some human." 

        "Would you be saying that if she was Rex Sloan?" 

        That name from that mouth made Tracksuit go stiff. "You creepy little fucker."

        "I know if she were William, I'd be acting just as crazy." Out came Maskless's hand, offered with no smile. "If not more than some of them are."

        Tracksuit considers slapping the offer away but takes the hand, pulling himself up off an aching tailbone. "I ain't you know, man."

        "I know," Maskless says, though he doesn't believe it. He and Rex had a thing years back before it all went bad. There was bound to be another one of him who had the hots for that idiot. Still, he tacked on, "I see how you look at her, I get the picture." 

        "No, no, I mean I don't..." Tracksuit let go of his hand soon as possible. 

        Maskless held himself with a seriousness he didn't feel. He told himself the same thing a long, long time ago. "You'll figure it out." He hovered above the sand, "We going or what?"

        ***

        The fireside is chaos. 

        You are drained dry of power and want to kill despite how your body is shaking from the adrenaline and codeine come down. Baldie wants them dead more than you do. Omni more than he. Omni held you when he heard, hand cradling your head as you tried not to lean into it. You were almost glad for the distraction Scars and Lensless brought to the group, because he was being obvious, and if someone asked you were sure he wouldn't deny it.

        Tracksuit watched on, achy all over. Back to treating your personal drama like his TV after a long day. Maskless nearby considers swiping one of Tracksuit's cigarettes. Sneaking out and smoking while this fizzled out, but he had to stay. Make sure if the peace snapped that the cave didn't collapse.

        Scars and Lensless revel in the jeering and suggestions of exile from Gray. The threats of death from Omni. Regrettably, they lived through your control. Scars suit was frayed, cape torn at all the edges but he was fine. Lensless's chest was exposed, skin gone purple with bruising. 

        After Phantom caught you, the two had played it relatively smart. Avoiding camp until nightfall, where Baldie told everyone what they'd done while licking his wounds. Only when he was proclaiming his hate for the yellowjacket and his minion did they make an entrance. Leading to the current hellscape of things.

        Despite all the talk, it was Mohawk who was the first to lunge for Scars, waiting for the fight with open arms. Phantom jumped between them, just barely able to keep them off each other.

        "Stop." He says.

        "He could've fucking killed her." Spit flies off Mohawk's lip onto his mask. 

        "Please, she was fine. Aren't you, sweet thing?" The second Scars eyes land on you, Mohawk reaches around Phantom and cracks Scars in the temple. Scars cackles as he hits the ground. "You'll thank me for it later." Mohawk lunges.

        Phantom grabs his ankle and throws Mohawk across the room. "Listen to me."

        Listen, Mohawk does not. He flies for Scars. "I'm tired of your face!"

        "We have the same face!"

        The screech tears through the room. Bounces off the walls. Reverberates through your bones. Mohawk's flight waivers, he crashes in a heap, clutching his ears. The rest of them are in similar positions, groaning, hands on head. 

        Phantom does not apologize, he is not sorry. "I was hoping you wouldn't make me use this." He says cool through the modulator. During the second day of the ravaging of Earth he'd caught out one of the re-animen. Taken the speaker from its chest, a tiny thing that he hid in the pockets of his utility belt. Down to the core, he wanted to curl into a ball and scream, but the noise-canceling tech in his suit's ears helped curb the urge. It also helped that he knew it was coming, that he controlled the noise.

        "Turn it off!" Mohawk snaps. 

        "Not until you listen." He says, louder, more confident than he'd felt in his entire life. Mohawk does not protest again. "You can exile them, kill them even, but it will not fix the problem. We all want her to ourselves, but we can't fracture into factions, We'll just end up killing each other and her. The best thing for her, for all of us, is to work together."

        "Fuck that." Mohawk spat, the only one able to speak over the noise.

        "You don't have to like it, but if you don't want her to die in the crossfire, you'll do it." Phantom is right. Feels the truth sink into the bones of everyone around him. Yet he leaves the frequency playing, "You don't want her to die again, do you?"

        Mohawk doesn't. None of them do. 

        He turns it off when he senses no more fight in the room. He waits for Mohawk to lunge at Scars. He thinks about it, Phantom can see it in his spring-loaded muscles but he doesn't. 

        Scars rises to his feet, hiding the stagger Mohawk punched into him. "We'll be back." He says it as he floats towards the exit, "Remeber, I keep a tally." His eyes are on you.

        Lensless went to follow, their partnership officially cemented, "See you guys this time tomorrow, cool?"

        They were gone. You took a shuddering breath.

        Baldie shot up to follow them. But stopped when you said, "Wait."

        "Don't you want them to die for what they did to you?" He tries to keep the anger out of his voice, the accusation he wants to level at you, at the others for letting this continue. 

        Your head was pounding. You were well into come down. Regretting and not regretting the dancing from earlier that killed your only flashlight. Regretting and not regretting the kiss. "I do, but if anyone's killing them, I am."

        Baldie shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know if you could.

        "I-" His lip twisted. How could you want those two alive even a second longer? Why? Did you favor them? Like the harassment? Is that what he should be doing instead of being soft and kind? Would you like him without drugs then? The anger chewing at his insides is surprising and sharp. 

        He shot into the caves to angst alone in the quiet, familiar enclosure of darkness. Even though he knew it'd make him worse. 

        You try to rise to your feet before falling back down wobbly. Head falling to your hands. Gray quietly brings the basin of freshly boiled water to your side for you to drink. He and Omni hover within reach but say nothing. 

        Phantom disappeared into the caves behind Baldie not long after. Nobody noticed. All so fretful over you, minds racing with options. But if they really cared, they'd be doing what he was doing. Approaching Baldie from behind.

[littlelovelunette]

HI

Hope you're having a good day

I'm here to put this request for your consideration: ambessa having a past lover that greatly impact her... maybe they had to break up over something that they didn't have a control on maybe a loss...a duty that pulled them apart

Reader is the first one after that relationship that even got close to be inside the walls that ambessa had all over herself yet she still thinks there's more...and she's right

I was thinking an ambessa who hasn't fully let go and a reader who's catching hint about that and they're not big give aways that she could actually say something about them but they're also not too subtle that she could let go

It's a gnawing ach inside her heart even when they're in bed tangled together ambessa sleeping beside her but still the worry is overwhelming inside her

Even though in Ambessa's mind there's completely different thought as if she's finally getting closer to get over everything...

I don't know you have a really open creative mind and I wanted angst and heartach soo

With the greatest thanks in advance ⌛

Maybe We Weren't Meant To Be

—Past Trauma!Ambessa x Try Hard!Reader

Slightly angsty, Ambessa gets cheated on in the past, mention of past lover, comfort(?), not proofread, kinda ass ngl

Ambessa Medarda, the chosen wolf, an otherwise imposing woman with no known fears, had something people termed "trauma" but she always called it a weakness.

Bree, a beautiful woman with luscious brown curly hair had Ambessa in a trance since they've met. But all Bree had done throughout their courtship, was lie and lie. Ambessa, being the ever so trusting with her potential lovers, eradicated any thought or doubt that crossed her mind.

Now, she only calls herself foolish for doing that.

Time didn't heal, the wounds stayed. The scarred trust slowly turned her into a woman of few words and more observation. She didn't see anyone after that, she actually resorted to seeing multiple people at once. However, the night that she encountered you— she felt a shift in her own self.

For once, her rough and gruff façade could shatter— no, melt.

That's how you made her feel. Like, you were melting away all the walls she built up because of her trust issues.

"Are you okay?" You asked Ambessa who had been staring out of the window with a pen in hand for so long now it was worry some. Ambessa didn't move, eyes locked on the dark sky outside, her golden gaze distant and solemn.

"Hmm?" Ambessa hummed in response.

"I asked, are you okay?" You repeated and this time Ambessa finally looked your way, putting her right hand down, letting go of the pen as she rubbed her eyes.

"Yes, dear," she muttered, "I'm okay."

"Do you want to call it a night?" You asked, sounding a little less concerned, but eyes still narrowed only a little.

"You can go to bed if you're tired," Ambessa replied, looking at the fresh batch of paperwork, drumming on the surface of them with her fingers, "I think, I'll finish these up first."

"Don't overexert," you said in a motherly, firm tone.

"I won't. Sweet dreams, my love." Ambessa gave you a tired smile.

You got up from beside her and pressed your lips against her forehead, pulling her hair back gently and stroking your fingers through the grey locks. Ambessa's smile deepened into something soft, something more passionate than before and she let her hand rest against your jaw, fingers tracing the shadows of your face.

"I love you." You confessed.

"Do you, now?" Ambessa retorted, but then her lips pressed tight. Forming a line, as if instantly regretting what she said, and you could hear the gears in her head turning, her heart hammering against her ribs and the fear of ruining something so good because of her past lover flooded her chest and head.

"I do," you pressed on, "Don't you believe me?"

"Right, my apologies, it's just that—" she swallowed the lump building in her throat.

Flashes.

The confessions, the whispered promises, the kisses, the talks of giving Ambessa an heir.

So stupid to believe something like that in the cold, cruel world. How could you? You're a warlord. You're not cut out for domesticity, it's blood, war, rage, battlefields, swords—

Your voice pulled her back to reality, "It's Bree, isn't it?"

Ambessa felt like she'd just been dunked into a tub full of cold water, one leg bouncing beneath the table. You caught on, glancing down.

"I shouldn't have let her actions cloud my better judgement, I shouldn't have—" she tried to explain.

"Ambessa, Ambessa," you cut in, hands gripping her muscular shoulders, "It takes time to heal, and if anyone doesn't acknowledge that you've been hurt and need some nourishment to get back on your feet— do they really understand you?" You gave her a soft, sad smile. It was the truth, laid out in front of her but then why? Why didn't she believe you? She wanted to, but she was scared deep down that she'd end up with all her feelings shattered, picking them back up piece by piece.

"Has anyone ever even?" Ambessa's voice cracked.

"..."

You didn't say anything. What were you supposed to say? That it'll all be okay? That would've been a big, fat lie. You knew it. Trauma didn't heal easy, it would take millions of attempts, setbacks and even then there was a chance of being stuck with it lifelong.

"You should sleep." Ambessa looked away.

"Ambessa," you pulled out her chair just enough for her to face you.

"Yes?" Ambessa looked at you, voice quiet. Not the commanding kind like the usual.

"Hold my hands." You said, your voice measured and gentle.

"Why?" Ambessa narrowed her eyes.

"Hold them." You said, shaking them in her face before she rolled her eyes and held your hands down, thumbs rubbing over the back of your hand. "I'm not leaving you." You cooed, "Ever."

Ambessa looked at you, maintaining eye contact for a while before she let out a deep exhale, smiling. "I know, baby."

Even as she said that in the following days her behaviour had been withdrawn and you could tell she was still troubled by her past even if she didn't verbally address it. The way Ambessa hugged you a bit tighter than before whenever she returned from long campaigns as if trying to sniff down whether you'd been with someone but her.

Often asking you if you're sure whenever you tell her about where you'd been and who you'd been with. Almost everything that she did or said was a dead giveaway, she hadn't completely moved on from being cheated on.

"Bessa?" You saw her sitting on the marbled floor of the balcony, eyebrows furrowing.

Ambessa wasn't clothed in extravagance today, which was quite concerning given how much she liked dressing up even indoors.

"Yeah?" She looked up, eyes glinting under the setting sun's light, setting a peaceful shade of gold behind those usually hurting eyes, "You're back early."

"Mhm," you sat down beside her, letting your body melt against yours, smiling a little although it was a very content smile.

"I was thinking," Ambessa wrapped one arm around you, fingers toying with the sleeve of your top.

"Yeah?" You looked at her.

"Maybe I am getting over whatever went down with Bree. It's been a while, and I'm pretty sure I don't act like it affects me anymore." Ambessa said.

"Oh," was all you could manage.

"Don't you think so, too?" Ambessa asked.

"I don't know... You've been a little distant lately." You muttered.

"Yeah, that's it. I need to distance myself in a certain way that I don't get attached and so if you do end up doing what Bree did, it won't hurt as much. So now, that I understand the system, I can move on being this way—" Ambessa said almost excitedly, your heart broke with every word spoken and you felt like you'd just been stabbed.

"Bessa—" you tried to add in but she continued.

"I know it sounds so bad and it is, it is. But just imagine how much harder it could've been if I was severely attached to you." Ambessa went on before her breath hitched, "My apologies. That was... That was wrong of me to say."

You smiled despite the pain gnawing in you. "It's okay, baby," you looked at the setting sun, "Maybe we weren't meant to be."