#not terribly proofread tbh but here it is

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: gn!reader. angst. light physical roughness towards reader. mention of sex but nothing explicit. alcohol use [reader]. dressrosa spoilers. wc: 1.3k

The sun set over Dressrosa, just like it did the day before, and the day before that. You stood on the balcony overlooking gardens and stared out across the island, watching the sky turn technicolor, a nightly performance that somehow felt like it was just for you.

A door closed softly behind you; Doflamingo strode across the bedroom and ducked out onto the balcony, placing a hand on your upper back and giving your neck a quick squeeze.

“Enjoying your show, darling?” he grinned, leaning down to kiss along your earlobe and down your jaw.

You nodded and forced a smile, gripping the railing a little tighter, trying to keep your anxious thoughts at bay. You’d heard the phone calls, seen his barely-suppressed anger that only seemed to grow after he’d left for Punk Hazard and returned. Doflamingo tried to keep things from you when he could, but this was unavoidable—this was impending war, at least in your estimation.

He clucked his tongue and sat upon the stone bench beside you, pulling you in to stand between his legs. “What’s wrong, sweet bird? You seem upset.”

“What will happen to me, love?” The question came barreling out faster than you anticipated, unable to stop it as it landed with a thud. The years had taught you never to question him on certain things—his strength was chief among them.

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows furrowed behind his sunglasses, his grip on your shoulders tightening.

“I mean what will happen if—well—”

“That’s nothing you need to be concerned about, little bird,” Doflamingo spat, cutting you off, knowing precisely what it is you’re implying. “This situation we find ourselves in is merely a momentary inconvenience.”

The phone calls you’d overheard, the conversations on which you’d eavesdropped, the information you’d begged and bribed out of his guards—nothing seemed to indicate it would be a mild “inconvenience;” Doflamingo had a temper, but mundane troubles didn’t seem to rattle him the way this had. You steadied yourself and breathed in deep before adding, “You’re not answering my question.”

He took your chin and held it between his thumb and forefingers, his massive hand engulfing your face. “Are you doubting my ability to keep you safe? Hm?”

“No, of course not, I’m just—”

He squeezed your jaw, his hand almost shaking as he leaned forward, the tip of his aquiline nose touching yours, his hot breath spreading across your face as he spoke, bits of spittle landing on you with every enunciated word. “Are you suggesting that one little brat and some upstart pirate crew pose any threat to me? To us?”

You shook your head, a whimper clawing its way up your throat, as you grasped at his wrist, trying to wrest yourself from his painful grasp.

“Good.” He released his hold on your chin and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss where his thumb left an indent in your flesh. “You know I would never let anything happen to my little bird."

That night, Doflamingo made love to you as he did most nights, but something felt changed. He pulled you closer, he kissed you harder, and as you laid there afterwards, your cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his long fingers danced over your sweat-dappled skin, you would swear you sensed something in him you didn’t think you’d ever truly felt before.

Fear.

----------

The sun sets again, just like it did the day before, and the day before that. Brilliant hues of gold and lavender spread through the sky and the ocean reflects them back, soft waves beating upon the shore. You sit curled up on your porch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a glass of wine on the table beside you, wondering if that day was the last time you would ever see a sunset with Doflamingo again. It’s a thought that haunts your waking hours and invades your dreams.

It’s quiet here, far removed from the buzz and busyness of Dressrosa. You still aren’t quite sure where here is exactly; you weren’t allowed onto the deck of the ship for your journey, nor were you ever shown where this little slice of idleness lies on a map. The journey could have been a day or a week or a year for all you had known; as soon as you were hurriedly smuggled on board, a man had jabbed your upper arm with something that made your blood burn before it gripped you by the shoulders and pulled you under into a deep and dreamless sleep. At night, when visions of Doflamingo, bloodied and beaten and restrained with seastone, flash in your mind again and again as you writhe in sweat-soaked linens, you wish that man had left you with a supply of your own injectables.

A soft breeze picks up and carries upon it the scent of citrus trees, the ones belonging to your neighbor down the road that you’d only waved to a few times. It was still unclear to you just how approachable you were allowed to be under the circumstances. You occasionally walked into town, covered in scarves and layers of fabric to hide your form, just to bask in the warmth of other living beings, and inhale the scent of fresh-baked bread at the market, and take home a few homemade goods to carry you through the week. Men who never spoke to you dropped off supplies now and again, more than enough to sustain you and you alone, but nothing could compare to the sound of friendly voices and the feeling of carrying home a loaf of crusty bread knowing it would soon be slathered in butter and jam and inhaled within minutes, just like you used to insist upon doing back on Dressrosa, even when the castle was fully-stocked with anything your heart desired.

He found that strange and charming about you, your insistence on going about your same routines despite the privilege your position afforded you. Midnight trips to the late-night café for their house coffee, staying up until just before dawn to watch the bakers prepare their days offerings, flour settling like snow upon their shoulders. Doflamingo thought you a little mad at first for your commitment to the customs of a common citizen, but even he would grow fond of being dragged into town just to get that fresh-squeezed juice that the market only had on Tuesdays.

The sun dips below the horizon, and a chill settles in the night air. It’s time to head inside, time to make yourself dinner and read one of the countless books that were packed inside this house, or perhaps drink yourself into a stupor so you could skip wallowing in melancholy and time-travel to morning, when the sun could keep you company. And then you can do it all over again—wake, and sob until your lungs hurt and your core aches, until you’re so full of yearning and wanting that you’re numb inside. And you’ll think of him, think of him in better times, think of him wrapping you in pink feathers and grazing your skin with long fingers and kissing you, kissing you with desire and longing, and a softness that took you by surprise every single time.

You’ll think of him and you’ll hold hope within your aching heart that you’ll see him again—see him walking up the sand, a grin stretched across his lips, tanned arms outstretched to welcome you home to him. And you’ll hold onto that image, hold it so tightly inside you, hoping that it will keep the grief from spreading like poison and killing you before you can ever feel his touch upon your skin once more.

[vincinnamontoast]

⠂☆ Vi SFW & NSFW HCs

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ tws/content warnings: nsfw towards the end :) not rlly proofread, a bit more modern au, lowercase intended

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ a/n: I’m still working on the story I wanted to post today but I wanted to put something out. so here are a little bit of my vi head cannons! this is lightly proofread with no organization tbh :>

☆ SFW/NSFW MIX

˚. starting off very in it, she worships you and the very soil you walk on. she will quite literally do whatever you say with no questions asked, but of course you don’t take advantage of that

˚. she does in fact snore. nothing crazy heavy and loud. just a light snore with some heavy breathing.

˚. she isn’t the best at regulating her emotions. she is very shamelessly vulnerable with her partner, and she loves being safe enough to feel small sometimes.

˚. she is a very light sleeper. any sense of movement and her eyes slightly open to ensure you’re fine. If so, she goes right back to sleep like nothing. will not move at all, and honestly it concerns you. she has to be sleeping on or near you. if you move away from her, she goes right back.

˚. baby needs so much love. she is a sucker for being babied. wash her hair in the shower, make her little snacks, smushing her cheeks and kissing her nose, tucking her in, and kissing her forehead. call her baby and she’s done for. she will never admit, but you can see it in the way her cheeks turn a warm peachy pink when you baby her. she loves reciprocation, so you can bet you’ll get the same exact love and treatment back

˚. she gets pretty frequent nightmares. she’ll panic inside until she realizes you are asleep next to her, then she’s rolled up into you

˚. loves being both big and little spoon

˚. Is in love with you and everything you do. she will sit and listen to you talk for hours about anything. while you talk, she admires you. the way you move, your voice, how every syllable slips from your lips like honey. she feels so woozy and intoxicated when she is with you. you wipe her off her toes by simply breathing in her direction

˚. she listens so well. you stare at a new game or a nice jacket for too long and you’ll have it by the end of the week. mention how you’ve been craving anything and she’ll have it cooked for you and fresh or ready for take out

˚. she is actually very smart (makes me sad some people call her stupid). she enjoys learning new things but she does get a bit impatient. although it does seem like she jumps into her fights head first, she has strategy and technique.

˚. she is pretty tech savvy. Jinx and Ekko taught her a lot of what she knows. (I do hc that jinx is very tech savvy and into computer software :p).

˚. she always tells you that she loves you. she just wants you to stay aware of how much you mean to her. when you’re both off at work, she ends up always missing you tremendously. she wakes up dreading the moment you both seperate in the morning. you can definitely expect her to blow up your phone with cute messages and comments about her day when she can.

˚. I indeed hc that she has a staring problem. she’s just intrigued easily by little things. she analyzes and is never sure when to look away. she stares at you. A LOT. she admires every single thing about you. every quality, every imperfection, all of it.

˚. very observant and attentive

˚. terrible road rage. she definitely puts up that middle finger and spits profanities

˚. so headstrong and can be very stubborn

˚. follows you everywhereeee. she can’t help it, she loves you so much and just wants you to be right there. she decides stops to following you one day, because she feels as if she’s being annoying. you both were watching movies. kissing her cheek, you stood up. she flexed for a moment, forgetting her plan. halfway down the hall, you noticed you couldn’t feel her right on your tail. when she wasn’t there, you walked back to the living room. she was sitting on the couch with her head down, like a sad puppy. “come here, baby”, was all you said before she jumped up, running to follow you. In truth, you loved it (she’s so puppy coded)

˚. she does talk with her mouth open out of habit. she does it in public when she has to say something.

˚. I believe that she isn’t picky BUT she does like to critique food. she is a food critic and will be honest with you. she is not the greatest cook but she loves to learn and try. she hasn’t dissatisfied you with a dish yet :p

˚. very protective but she knows you can protect yourself. that doesn’t matter though, it won’t change the fact that she is a protector

˚. she is always there for you always, will straight up leave work or anything to be with you if you’re having a bad day

˚. she isn’t the best with wording how she feels but she shows everything through her actions

˚. will defend you in anything, even if you are wrong. she is the defend you in public, correct you in private type

˚. she is an over thinker and does need reassurance sometimes. she is afraid to lose you in any way, but struggles to reassure herself that you aren’t going anywhere.

˚. she actually begs you to get the vi tat on your hip. when you do, she’ll get something that resembles you or your initials on hers

˚. she is so funny actually. she will have you falling over laughing with a shit eating grin on her face. when you both laugh together * chefs kiss *. her laugh is so cute. she does cackle and react with her body when she’s really into it. does in fact think brain rot shit like rizz and skibidi is funny

˚. very very helpful. she can also build shit. bob the builder lesbian fr. truly such a sweetheart and will do anything to help around the apartment you share

˚. she loves video games, choice horror and lore games are her favorite

˚. she is a bit messy, will leave her clothes on the floor and forgets to put her dishes in the sink. she just forgets to clean up after herself sometimes (as we all do honestly)

˚. tends to eat fast because she never knew when she’d eat growing up. It’s just one of her many habits in adulthood. she always makes sure that you have food to eat before she does. just like she did for all of her siblings growing up. she is a nurturer at heart

˚. physical touch is a HUGE love language for her. She loves skin to skin. Quality time is also one of her biggest. has got to be near you or at least have you in her eyesight, but she can respect your personal space.

˚. get jealous easily but she isn’t toxic about it. she’s used to everything being taken from her

˚. has a very gentle touch despite being how strong she is

˚. she can sing. she plays with your hair and sings softly n your neck when you’re sleepy

˚. huge softie. she tends to portray herself as tough, (and of course she is) but she is truly a teddy bear at heart.

˚. best person ever to chill out with. days where you’re both off work, lazy, and watching horror movies, eating, and playing games all day >>>> she’s down for anything honestly. she makes everything so fun and she is such a light to be around. she has her moments as we all do but you’re her partner and you’re there when she needs you

˚. she can be very annoying (i love ittt). can be pretty loud and constantly makes stupid jokes at the worst times.

˚. type who teases the fuck out of you constantly but when you tease her back, she gets so flustered. you both get huge boosts of confidence with each other and will flirt back and forth. It always ends with your eyes in the back of your head and her face between your legs.

˚. you worship her tattoos and kiss her along them all the time. breathing and kissing her neck while dragging your fingertips down the big one on her back. kiss her down it grrrrrr. makes her weak

˚. eats you out like a mad mann. depends on how eager she is but she usually has a method. she puts work into it every time, pleasure for you is pleasure for her. the way she holds you during it, you’re so important to her. your comfort is everything. she’s either the crazy in it type or the brutally slow but you can feel every single swipe and curl of her tongue type. rub her undercut and play with her hair >>>>>> she definitely moans when she’s eating you out

˚. she’s got so much energy and stamina. will have you bent and taking it every which way for hoursss

˚. Is such a good kisser. she is the ‘eat you whole’ type kisser. wants every part of your body on hers when you’re kissing. her hands stay up and down your body. will grab you by the back of your hair, hold your face gently, and guide your mouth into hers. soul connection type makeouts 24/7. always stops to look at you as you’re both panting, admiring each other

˚. grabs your face and makes you look at her when she fingers you. and she’s so good with it too. it’s so hard to maintain eye contact with her, because she makes you nervous. feeling your vision fade in and out because of how good it feels. “look at me” makes you feel things you thought you’d never

˚. she has nipple piercings (canonnnnnnnnn)

˚. she is a moaner and pretty vocal, they’re so soft and smooth coming from her heart shaped lips.

˚. she dirty talks so bad. she’ll have you feeling disgustinnggg afterwards

˚. her body is so warm and soft honestly, those bandages save her from a lot of the scruff she’d get.

˚. seeing her soft pink hair laid everywhere on the bed as you lay between her legs. her pussy melts in your mouth like honey butter and the sounds she makes>>>>

˚. a switch. lovesss to have you between her legs. to keep it quick, everything is messy, and nothing is ever boring with her

˚. she is a very loving and supportive partner

a/n: hope you liked! <3

[mimiheartsheros]

a song already written

din djarin x fem!reader

word count: 9.6k

summary ⋆·˚ ��� *: you live a simple life on the planet lah’mu, working as a farmer (& occasional mechanic). your life had routine and was undisturbed, until one day a man, clad in beskar armour walked onto your farm and asked for a place to stay— as the weeks roll by, you become closer to the masked man and his small green companion.

(rogue one is mentioned like once, reader was previously a spy in the rebellion, lah’mu is the planet at the beginning of rogue one for those who don’t know, readers family comes from mandalore, reader WAS a mandalorian but not apart of ‘the watch’— only mentioned a few times, sometime between s1 & 2, no use of y/n, reader speaks mando'a (I provided translations)).

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of injury, nudity, sexual content/themes(?), alcohol consumption, fluff, angst(??),reader & din are lonely & touch starved lmao, extreme overuse of the words 'pang' and 'twinge', awkward first encounters, over usage of “—“ and commas, explicit content, the helmet stays ON. correct capitalisation not used, terrible writing overall tbh so bare with me pls :( — lmk if I missed anything :)) !!not entirely proofread!!

the weather on lah’mu was unpredictable. most of the time it was some sort of foggy overcast, which you didn’t mind— helped with your moisture farming. it helped keep your crops healthy, and that in turn helped you earn credits.

there was the occasional cold snap— the ground would frost over, the lakes, the cattle would die. you couldn’t count on both your hands how many times one of your orbak’s had died in the cold overnight. then the summer would roll around, more sunshine, less damp, happier cattle. simple.

that was until about 3 days ago.

you’d been out harvesting vegetables from your crops not far from your home, when you’d met him. you heard his footsteps against the damp ground before you actually saw him. you dropped what crops were in your hands into a crate and hovered your dominant hand over your blaster holstered at your side.

he was tall, broad, and incredibly metallic. he broke the silence first— “hello.” he had said. a crackle running through the modulator in his helmet. you recognised the composition of his armour, beskar no doubt, and it was clear he was a mandalorian. what is he doing out here? you wondered.

“can i help you?” you replied. water droplets rolled down your outer coat and your cold, flushed cheeks.

“i’m looking for shelter. my ship is in need of repair and as far as i can tell the nearest town is at least a days journey from here.” his voice is clear, confident.

“you’d be right. there’s a few outposts— trading, medical, what not. you’re not gonna find someone to fix it there.” you rambled, picking up the crate that lay next to your feet and taking a few steps closer to him.

“i might be able to help. i know a thing or two about mechanics.” you continued.

his helmet tilted in relief (you had assumed). “great.” he said. “i’m willing to pay in exchange for your assistance.”

“you any good at gathering, forging and harvesting?” you asked. you did need help getting the rest of your crops ready and its produce out to the surrounding inhabitants.

he nodded in silent reply.

“good. come on in and i can get you settled.” you turned back towards the house, carrying the crate with vegetables on your hip.

the door opened with a soft hiss, the warmth from inside contrasting the cold breeze from outside. there was a warm glow inside your home. no large overhead lights, but lots of smaller lamps. mando took note of the way your coat hang over a bucket to collect the rainwater that still was clung to its fabric. your home was spacious, but cozy. you walked toward the kitchen area and placed the crate into the sink, then back towards him.

“i have a spare room, it’s not large but it should keep you comfortable.” your gaze fell behind him. a small metal cradle followed his every step.

he followed your eye-line, slightly tensing. the cradle opened to reveal the child. small, asleep, and peaceful. you turned your face back to the mandalorian and smiled. “i wasn’t expecting a baby as well.”

“he’s older than me.” he informs. you chuckle and lead him to the room at the end of the hall. the door opens with another soft hiss, and mando is pleasantly surprised. the room has a large bed, dresser, mirror and sink, and a small window closer towards the ceiling. there’s a small lamp beside the bed that is giving off a warm orange hue. he steps inside and looks over the room in more detail. it’s much nicer than the hostels he's accustomed to and winds up in most nights when the razor crest is having some sort of repairs done. it feels like a home.

"bathroom is down the hall, next to my room. you're welcome to use anything you need, so is the little guy."

"well, that's bound to happen." he chuckles softly. "thank you." he holds out his hand for you to shake. you willingly accept with a warm smile.

"why don't you show me your ship, and i can start to get my head around what needs looking at?" you turn your body towards the 'common area' of your home. there's a curved couch off to the side, surrounded by several crates used for storage and some others with crops, tools, and one with just blankets, etc. you step back toward the door and pick up your tool box on the way out, reaching up for your coat on the hook.

"sure. sooner you start, the sooner I'll be out of your way." he follows behind you closely. the cradle stays stationary in his the room.

you nod. he leads you a little ways away from your fields to where the razor crest sits upon the black soil. it's not the most glamorous ship you've ever seen, but your breath is still taken away by it. it's old, like most of the ships you see in and out of the outposts regularly. a thin coat of dust from the soil coats the bottom of the ship, while the rain drips slowly off of the top. he walks ahead of you again and the ramp descends. the first thing that catches your attention in the cargo hold of his ship is the several bodies that hang, frozen in carbonite. a bounty hunter, you think to yourself- making a mental note. as you take in more of the ship, there's various metal chests and crates, a small armoury, and a cot off to the side. considerably smaller than the bed you've provided for him.

"what seems to be acting up?" you ask as you continue to walk further into the ship.

"my stabilisers gave out on entry, the hyperdrive also has been having some hiccups. I can't fly in realspace, it's too dangerous." his voice laced in frustration. understandable.

you hum in reply. "bounty hunter, I assume?" you question simply. his helmet tilts towards you. "yeah" he nods & says after a pause, "that a problem?" he presses.

"no." you smile slightly. he nods again. "good." his voice is flat. he leads you to the hyperdrive, and you kneel down to get a closer look. it's steaming and giving off heat. you mentally curse. it's not going to be a particularly easy job, AND the stabilisers need work too. you didn't realise you had actually sighed until the mandalorian shifts his weight behind you and finally sighs out, "how bad is it?"

you take a moment to do the mental math, "it could take a few weeks, at least.. the hyperdrive is too hot right now to do anything to it- but giving off steam isn't a good sign. the only comfort I get from looking at it is that it's still bright, if the light was dimmed or flickering then that would be symptom of a bigger problem. what's up with the stabilisers again?" you rise up to his level again, not realising how close your bodies are until he speaks again.

"they gave out, mostly the rear ones. makes it pretty hard to see how to land since the nose rises. it's choppy but not unbearable." he shifts again.

you nod. more mental math going on in your head. "when are you hoping to get off planet?— soon, with the bounties, I assume you have a time period?" you question, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"I don't have to be back to deliver for a while. my employer knows I have the bounties in carbonite. not like they're going anywhere." his voice is steady. he tilts his head down slightly to see your face fully. you're suddenly aware of the proximity of your bodies. you can almost hear his steady breaths from underneath the helmet.

you nod again, squeezing past him and back into the cargo hold. "I can get started straight away, if you want. a few hours of daylight left. I prefer not to work in the dark."

"okay." he moves past you and down the ramp. you watch as he disappears around the corner of the ship and out of sight before you place your tool box down and crack it open, gathering what tools you'll need. you strip yourself of your raincoat and lay it on the ramp, not wanting to get any rain water on the floors. you get to work quickly on the stabilisers, locating the door panel for the side door and opening it in hopes that it'll help the hyperdrive cool down quicker. you start compiling a inventory of spare parts you may need- but ultimately decide to come back to that when you start on the hyperdrive. the stabilisers are an easy fix. a lot of the time they start to act up because they're out of alignment, easily done if you’re regularly getting yourself into dogfights, hard landings, and climbing too quickly from initial takeoff— the stabilisers get confused because of the speed of climb combined with your low altitude. you make easy work of it, tightening a few bolts and carefully aligning the pieces back together. the rain starts up again, the soft pitter patter being heard from the rain hitting the top of the ship. you easily swing into work, completely focused.

as the daylight starts to slowly fade into evening dark, you gather your tools again and walk back to the hyperdrive to check on the temperature. it's cooling down, slowly but surely. you decide to pick that job back up in the morning. you close the side door before making your way down the back ramp. tool box in hand, you make your way back to the house.

the clang of your tool box being dropped a little too carelessly startles the mandalorian, he turns towards the door with the cradle now next to him as he sits on the couch.

"stabilisers are fixed, the hyperdrive is still too hot to do anything. hopefully the rain will cool down the ship and the hyperdrive and I'll pick it up tomorrow." you ramble, taking off your boots and raincoat, leaving them in their designated places by the door.

"thank you." he says. the cradle is empty, and you spot the small green creature sat on the other side of the couch with a small metal ball in his hands. you smile.

"you hungry?" you pace to the kitchen.

"sure. the little one needs to eat, too." he pushes the cradle away and stands.

"I've got pog soup. just needs to reheat." you pull the large pot onto your stove, setting the heat to low so it simmers.

the mandalorian perks up. he can't remember the last time he had something so traditional. a common meal on mandalore.

you walk back past the couch and towards the fresher. "I'm gonna freshen up, heat is on low so if it start's bubbling over, just turn it off." he nods and follows your frame. once you disappear into the fresher and the door locks, he looks around the room. various lamps start to turn on the darker it gets outside, a soft warm hue all over. there's several crates scattered over the room. harvested crops sitting on the counter next to the sink, some books next to the couch on a small side table, nothing he recognised. he slowly steps around the room, he spots the rifle holster next to the door, pristine condition. either hardly used or just magnificently well looked after. there is a small wardrobe in the corner of the room, a light on the panel to it occasionally blinking. his curiosity peaks and he walks over, pressing the button to it. the door slides upwards into the ceiling and reveals a set of mandalorian armour kept neatly inside.

his heart rate picks up. where did you get it? why do you have it? these reel through his head, his trail of thought interrupted by the child cooing next to his feet. he closes the wardrobe and picks him up. "I'm not sure about this one, kid." the child tilts his head and coos again. mando sighs out slowly. the sound of the fresher door opening makes him raise his head again, hand on his holster.

you walk out from the hall way, hair damp from the shower. "the food should be hot enough now." you say as you reach the kitchen, pulling three bowls out from a cupboard.

"where'd you get the armour?" he questions. you place the bowls on the counter slowly. "did you kill someone for it?" he accuses in a flat tone.

"no." you reply.

"how do you have it?" he presses further.

"it's been in my family for a few generations. my parents come from mandalore, I was raised as one." you confess.

"you remove your helmet?" he's puzzled. that's when you realise he's a child of 'the watch'.

your muscles relax. "are you apart of 'the watch'?"

"yes. we follow the way." he stays still.

"'the watch' follows the ancient interpretation of The Way. more spiritual too." you continue, serving some of the soup into each bowl.

"you don't follow it?" he steps forward.

"no. my family followed the more modern practices." you push a bowl across the counter towards him. he relaxes a bit, stepping in front of the counter and setting the child down on top of it. he coo's at his own bowl and sits down.

"Gaa'tayl yourself" help yourself, you say.

"gar jorhaa'ir mando'a?" you speak mando'a?, he replies.

"yeah." you pick up your own bowl and sip on your soup. "my mother taught me."

he hums, his own bowl closer. he lifts his helmet just high enough so he can drink from it. "you're a devout follower of the way?" you inquire, leaning against the counter with your hip. he slips his helmet back on fully, "yes." without elaborating. the child burps after finishing his bowl and you chuckle. a light laugh comes through mando's modulator. it makes you smile. a reminder of his humanity beneath the thick and heavy beskar that is adorned across his body.

after the child finished about 4 more bowls of pog soup, he crashed on the couch and was softly snoring. you sat outside under the cover of your porch, listening to the rain and thunder. the mandalorian stood in the door frame, leaning against it with his arms crossed. there was comfortable silence between you two, only being interrupted by the crashes of thunder. mando occasionally turned his gaze to you, taking in your frame from where you sat, in your rocking chair. the soft creak of the wood falling into a soothing rhythm. you decide to break the silence first, "I'll try to work quickly on the hyperdrive, I might need to go to one of the outposts if I don't have the parts I need." you turn your head slightly towards him, awaiting a reply, and he does. "I can give you the credits for the parts." he offers.

"don't worry, I'll see what I have in my inventory first." turning your head back towards the vast fields that stretch for miles, the mountains in the distance being illuminated by the lightning.

"so you're a farmer?" mando asks, tiredness creeping into his voice. "yes, not where I thought I'd end up but, I'm happy." you inform.

"what did you do before?" he asks. you contemplate telling him your whole life story or a summarised version, settling on the latter.

"after the purge on mandalore, my father brought me to Tatooine. my mother died during the purge, and my father soon after. he had a bounty out on him from the empire. I managed to hide. he left me my mother's armour before he gave himself up. he was wanted dead, so I assume that's how he ended up after he was taken." you pause. the mandalorian shifts his weight on his feet, taking in everything.

"I started to do jobs here and there," you continue. "fixing speeders, handling market stalls while the owners went to do other business, helping out on moisture farms, running errands, things like that. I had finally managed to save up enough credits to get off of Tatooine and made my way to Alderaan. I enrolled in their education programme— I studied linguistics for a while, then mechanics, and eventually politics. my teachers then realised I had no valid or real identity documents, so I was expelled. started doing more jobs here and there until they released the same." you continue to ramble. mando listens intently.

"what did you do then?" he presses.

"whatever I had to. I started to steal things here and there. then I moved on to stealing bigger things— cargo shipments, things like that. then by accident I ended up stealing valuable information off of a rebel informant, which led the rebels to me. they recognised my talent for stealing things and offered me a position in the rebellion. steal intelligence, commit treason against the empire, that sort of thing. I eventually got partnered up with other rebel spies. a man named cassian andor was my longest standing partner. the others thought I was too reckless and had me reassigned after a few weeks. not cassian, though. he lead the assault team on scarif, while I fought off the aerial assault, to steal the Death Star plans. I never saw him or the rest of his squad again. after the Death Star was destroyed, I bailed out. thought that was the end of it, clearly not." you chuckle sadly.

mando steps closer, still listening silently.

"decided it wasn't for me after that. maybe I'll go back."

"you still believe in the cause?" he speaks up finally. "of course." you turn your face to him. "I of all people understand the importance of bringing the empire to its knees, like it does to so many people." you finish. he nods.

"then I came to lah'mu. an older woman needed help on her farm since she was slowing down with her old age, I offered myself willingly. she left everything to me after she died. she had no family, so now it's mine. I take care of the harvest each season and the small amount of cattle too. mostly orbak's to help with gathering." you add.

"orbak's aren't native to this planet, must be expensive?" he inquires more. "well, I had more. the old lady had bought them with some sort of pension money. a few have died in the cold snaps we had over the past few winter cycles. I'm trying to build them a hut outside, but, building materials are sparse right now." you finished your rambling. "I'm gonna turn in, the door will lock itself. Just put in the code I told you earlier if you get locked out." you stand from your chair and step past him into the house. "goodnight."

"night" he nods. the door slides closed after you disappear inside. Mando decides to check on the ship before turning in himself, walking out into the rain and past the fields.

when he walks onto the ship, he's taken aback by how tidy you left everything. he’s used to other mechanics making a mess of his cargo while they work and not leaving it how they found it. he inspects the stabilisers and is pleased with them. he checks the hyperdrive before returning to the house and it's cooling down nicely.

before mando sleeps, he picks grogu up from the couch and places him in his cradle, closing it as he stations it in the corner of his room. he waits until he can't hear any movement from your room to strip himself of his beskar and helmet, walking to the fresher in the dark. when he comes back to his room he puts his flight suit back on and his helmet, before succumbing to sleep. the bed cradles his own body, moulding to him.

weeks had passed, and you were still working on the razor crests hyperdrive. it had proved to be a harder job than you had anticipated. you had profusely apologised to mando for the hold up, and he had repeatedly told you to stop apologising. over the last couple of weeks you had grown closer together. you started to occasionally have conversations in mando'a— his was rusty, so you helped tutor him on it. he had told you about grogu and how he came to become his 'guardian' of sorts. you learned after a few too many osskorn stout's, that his name was din. it rolled off the tongue nicely. you had told him your name too, and it's mandalorian origins. you had become friends.

it was nice to have someone around. since there wasn't many large settlements on lah'mu, you had gotten used to only seeing the same 10-15 people at the various outposts that you frequented. you wouldn't say you were friends with any of the surrounding farmers and traders, but you were friendly. you'd trade things among yourselves, crops or vegetables for scrap parts and scrap building materials, meals for clothing, etc. during din's stay he had helped you build a hut for the orbak's, just like you wanted.

you both had grown accustomed to falling into a routine with one another. he'd help you with the farm, you'd help with the crest, with grogu, and so on. you made it a habit to sit out on the porch of an evening and watch the world pass by— sometimes in silence, and sometimes you'd talk for hours. you'd covered about every conversation topic possible by week 5.

you'd also started to become frustrated with one another, as well. you'd bicker like an old married couple on occasion, over small insignificant things. you told yourself it was only because you'd both been alone for so long that you weren't used to the constant company. whenever you'd get in a real snit, din would go for a walk to cool off. you'd wash what vegetables you'd gathered that day and cook something with them, and play with grogu to self regulate your emotions. din would always come back, his demeanour calmer. you'd place a bowl in front of him with some sort of meal, and he'd always apologise first. it was sweet really. you'd never admit it to him, but you'd started to procrastinate your progress on the crest because you didn't really want him to leave. you started to feel a pang in your chest whenever you would get close to him, and he felt a twinge in his— but neither of you paid too much attention to it or at least tried not to.

one morning you'd both quested to ride out to one of the further outposts, the two closer ones didn't have what you needed. grogu sat in a satchel on the side of the orbak that din rode, cooing at the birds that flew above. you didn't usually venture out this far until the summer, when the weather was more predictable and forgiving, but this was a trip of necessity. bandits were known to roam those areas, so you tended to steer clear of it as a single woman, but you felt safer with din. your rifle strap had started to dig into your shoulder and neck by hour 2, and you still had a handful of miles to go until you reached the outpost. while you were passing through one of the mountain valleys, the orbak's had gotten spooked by something. "easy! easy..." you tried to calm them, but to no avail. soon enough, it was revealed what had spooked them.

bandits. about 5 of them. you cursed internally. you knew this wasn't a good route to take. din immediately went into bounty hunter mode, pulling his rifle closer to him and ready for anything. your hand was over your own blaster. you knew better than to come this way, you thought.

the bandits had their own blasters and rifles raised as they made their way closer towards the two of you, your orbak's still unsettled. "what do you want?" you interrogated. one of them spoke in an alien language you didn't really understand, but you got the gist of it. they wanted whatever cargo you had with you, and din's armour.

"you'd have to take this armour off of my cold dead body." din replied immediately.

one of the bandits cursed and raised his rifle higher. you started to map out an escape route in your mind. from the looks of it, they were all on foot— probably camping out until some unfortunate souls, like you and din, had come through the valley. you reckoned that you two could out run them on the orbak's. you turned your head towards din and nodded. then you unholstered your blaster and shot the one closest to din and your orbak's bolted. the other bandits immediately started to fire on you, one hitting your orbak's leg. it tumbled over and took you with it. you scrambled to your feet and started firing back at them, ducking behind a rock. din quickly dismounted his own orbak and fired back at them as well.

"so what's your plan of getting out of here??" he yelled over. "my plane was flee, but clearly that didn't work!" you yelled back.

"you think?" he fired at them again. you were outnumbered, any regular traveller would be signing their own death warrant in this situation, but you and din were mandalorians, trained from infancy and early childhood. battle coordination was second nature to you both. you decided to push up further towards them, and din gave you cover fire. you had to admit your aim wasn't as good as it used to be— out of practice, you told yourself.

while you weren't paying attention, you got a blaster bolt to your upper shoulder and your side. rookie mistake. din called out your name, and pressed forward. you managed to pull yourself behind another rock while blaster fire still rained. din pressed various buttons on his vambrace, and several mini rockets shot out of the other one— taking down the rest of them.

"couldn't you have done that earlier?" you said, dripping in sarcasm. when you went to laugh, the pain in your ribs was too powerful. you winced and clutched your side, pulling away to see blood. not too much, but enough to make you worry. din shuffled over to you quickly and knelt by your side, his eyes scanning over your body for any other injuries. as far as he could tell, it was just your shoulder and side that got hit. thank the maker, he thought to himself. one hand came to your side, the other to cup your cheek. pang. "you okay??" his voice more panicked than before.

"never better." you managed a smile. he shook his head and chuckled. "always gotta be a smarts.." he added. he helped you rise to your feet while you still clutched your side, picking your blaster up from the floor and holstering it for you. you limped towards his orbak, your own still on the floor. it's leg was hurt badly. there was no way that you could get it back to the farm, or to the outpost, to help it. you sighed in defeat. "he's not gonna make it back.." you nodded towards it, lying on the ground, struggling to stand back up.

din walked you over to his orbak and you held onto the saddle to balance after he let go. he walked over to the other orbak and took his pistol in his hand and shot the animal in the back of the head. quick and painless. you felt relief come over you, and then the pain started— your adrenaline wearing off now. you winced again, clutching tighter onto the saddle next to you.

din strutted over to you, "how far is the outpost? do they have medical supplies there?" he rushingly asks. "it's still about 30 miles. we won't get there until dark, and by now there's probably more bandits in the area." you clutched your side tighter to try and ease the pain that was overstimulating your senses.

"how far back home?" he helps you balance by holding you up by your forearm. that familiar pang in your chest. "about 15. if the orbak gallops we can get back in an hour." you reply between winces. din nods. his hands fall to your waist and he lifts you onto the back of the orbak like you weigh nothing. another pang in your chest. his hands linger at your waist longer than they needed to. din hoists himself up on the saddle behind you after, taking the reigns of the orbak and turning him around, setting a steady speed back towards home.

you steadied yourself by grabbing the handle at the front of the saddle, the occasional coo's of grogu helping you distract yourself from the lingering ache and burning sensation that was tearing into the left side of your body. eventually, exhaustion over took your body and you somehow managed to lull to sleep, your head resting against din's shoulder. he had tried to keep you awake, distract you by asking various questions about the crest. 'how do you align the stabilisers?', 'whats the most common type of hyperdrive circuit arrangement for pre-new republic ships?', etc.

as soon as you reached the house your eyes snapped open to the sudden halt of movement. you pulled yourself forward so that din could slide down, before he took you by the waist again to get you down. he grabbed the satchel with grogu inside and helped you slowly hobble into the house. he set you down on the couch gently, along with the satchel. grogu crawled out and wobbled towards you, putting his small hand on your arm.

"medkit?" din asks. you silently point to a metal cupboard by the wardrobe. din paces over to it quickly, taking out all it's contents. bacta, he thought, perfect.

"I hope you're not scared of needles." he said before injecting the bacta syringe into your thigh, not giving you time to respond. your pain immediately started to subside. you thanked the maker. din peeled off your raincoat slowly, careful not to pull your arm too much to keep the pain in your shoulder to a minimum. your head fell back against the top of the sofa, your breathing becoming a little less rapid as the bacta targeted your wounds. the blaster bolt had gone completely though your coat and shirt. go figure. din had a mental dilemma with himself. he had to remove your shirt to properly treat your injuries. dank farrik.

"I... need to take this off." he said flatly, almost shy— like he was excepting you to say 'get fucked'. but you didn't, you just nodded. he carefully and agonisingly slowly lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just a bra. a twinge in his chest. a pang in yours.

"gota'la" maker, you said with a string of curses afterwards. din cracked open the medkit and pulled out what he needed. some sort of burn ointment, an antibacterial spray, and some gauze along with bandaging tape. he took his gloves off to be more effective, revealing warm, tanned skin. such a contrast to his cold leather gloves that he always wore. pang.

he started by spraying the antibac on your skin, and suddenly the bacta didn't seem as effective as it was before. you hissed and clamped your teeth together, your head lulling forward, grabbing onto din's forearm. a twinge in his chest. "I gotcha.." he reassured you softly. your head rested back on the couch as din continued to nurse you. the burn ointment helping to cool the skin, the sting starting to wear off again. your grip on his arm relaxed. he started to piece you back together, protecting the wounds with gauze, and taping it in place securely. you sighed with relief once he was finished, your hand slipping from his arm to his hand. another twinge.

"better?" he asked. "better." you repeated back to him. a sigh of relief coming through his modulator. grogu coo'd happily, shuffling away to his cradle and climbing in. you raised your head to look at din. his eyes searched for any discomfort in your face from under his helmet, behind the visor. another twinge.

"thank you." you sighed quietly. "I don't know why I took us that way, I know better than to go through that valley."

"hey. we made it out alive, that's the important part. maybe with one less orbak, but we made it back home." he soothed you, his hand coming to cup your cheek. pang. twinge.

butterflies.

both of your breathing steadied, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. you leaned into his touch shamelessly. pang, twinge.

you both stay there for a moment, you splayed against the couch, and din crouched between your knees. you hadn't realised the compromising position you were until now, and neither did he.

pang, twinge.

"you better not take advantage of me while I'm vulnerable, mando." you teased.

"din." he corrected you. "din" you echoed.

"I wouldn't dream of it." he confessed. "liar." you teased further.

"shot twice and you're still a little shit." he chuckled. pang.

you smiled. twinge. your hand squeezing his. pang, twinge.

din had helped you into your bed that night after you ate something to help with your strength, still stiff and sore. he tucked you in and stroked your hair out of your face as you laid against your pillow. as he pulled away, you grasped his hand. he stilled. twinge. you very quickly gave into exhaustion, dropping his hand as you slept. he lingered. watching the soft rise and fall of your chest. he left the door to your room open, and retired to his own room. his door open too, so he could listen out if you needed anything.

you had slept right through to early afternoon the next day. you cursed to yourself when you realised the time. you had crops to gather, chores to do, and a hyperdrive to procrastinate about. din wasn't there when you woke up. and an orbak was missing. he had left a note on the front door— "went to the outpost early this morning. will be back before dark. soup on the stove."

another pang in your chest. it felt domesticated, the note, the taking care of you last night, the lingering touches. you decided to go down to the lake near one of the crop fields and throw some nets in, hoping to catch some sort of fish. after no luck, you brought the nets back in. you suddenly realised you were in need of a shower, but laziness would tell you to just bathe in the lake. din wouldn't be back for another hour or two. you could be in and out before he was back.

you stripped yourself of your boots and pants, slowly lifting your shirt over your head. the cold breeze starting to nip at your skin. you peeled the bandaging away from your wounds slowly, and they were healing nicely. they were going to scar, but you didn't mind that much. you shed yourself of the last of your underwear, and into the lake you went. the cold water initially shot through your body, but subsided once you started to move around. you dipped your head under the water and rubbed your face. unbeknownst to you, din was closer to home than you had realised. he was walking along side the orbak, supplies he'd gotten at the outpost taking his place on the saddle, along with grogu's cradle following closely. he had seen something in the distance as he approached the house, his senses peaking. then, you raised up out of the water slightly. your hair, soaked, trailing down your back. he froze. he didn't want to watch you, it would be disrespectful and against his creed. but he couldn't look away.

he soaked in the sight of you, your curves, your bare skin, and the way your hair was cascading down your back. grogu coo'd and suddenly he was brought back to the present. he turned his back and took the orbak to the hut, unloading the cargo from it and it's saddle.

you had heard grogu's distant coo's and decided that was your queue to get out and make yourself decent. you rushed out of the lake and into the side door of the house, jogging to your room with your clothes cradled in your arms. you grabbed a towel and squeezed dry your hair, putting on a larger tunic and shorts. you could hear din's boots against the floor of the house, announcing his presence.

you walked down the hallway and out of your room to see din unpacking the supplies from the outpost, grogu sat on the counter watching.

you could get used to this kind of view. pang. you suddenly thought of the hyperdrive again, and you felt guilty for keeping din here longer than you actually needed to. you knew he'd tell you to stop apologising. deep down he didn't actually mind, and he was dreading having to leave. he'd gotten to used to the routine of seeing you when he woke up, rambling about something to grogu while you cradled him in your arms, too used to helping you around the farm, doing some of your chores with you, seeing you working hard on the crest to "repair' the hyperdrive. he'd gotten too used to you, and he didn't know if he could break that routine now. even if it weren't here, on lah'mu, on the farm, if he just had you with him— that would be enough.

he hears your soft footsteps and raises his head. twinge. he's all of a sudden aware of your lack of clothing on your bottom half. twinge.

"hey, feeling better?" he pushed the crate aside, giving you his full attention. pang. "yeah. you went to the outpost?" you stepped closer.

"yeah. I got what you needed." he leans against the doorframe to the kitchen. pang.

as you got closer, you're realising all over again how big he is. he's broad, he's got a strong frame, and he's slightly taller too. you think back to how he carried metal beams over to where you wanted the hut for the orbak's, how he didn't even break a sweat, and how he so effortlessly carried your body. pang. you step closer again. twinge.

"I'm gonna try get back to working on your hyperdrive, I promise." you lean against the counter. "don't worry about it." he chuckles, instead of ripping into you about apologising. "I don't mind being held up." he confesses. pang. twinge. he tilts his helmet to get a better look at you, his eyes scanning you up and down. thank the maker the visor of his helmet hides his shameless gawking at you and your body. his eyes trail up your bare legs— he thinks back to the lake. mapping out the rest of your body underneath the large dusty blue tunic that hides it. twinge. you can read him easily, you can almost sense his wandering eyes from beneath the beskar. pang.

"I don't want you to leave." your voice barely above a whisper. he shifts his weight and stand straight, stepping closer to you. you swallow, looking up at him slightly. his hand comes up to rest on your good shoulder, the other on your forearm of your bad side. pang. twinge.

"I know." his modulator crackles slightly. you stand up straight and mirror his posture, your hand comes up top rest on his forearm. pang, twinge. you wish you could see his eyes. even though you don't follow the creed, you respect it. you know he won't take his helmet off, even for you, you think.

he moves his hand from your shoulder to cup your face. "I don't think I can go across the galaxy without you." he quietly mutters your name and brushes his thumb across your cheekbone softly. pang, twinge.

"then don't leave"— your internal dialogue coming out before you have time to stop it. pang, twinge, butterflies. he's staring at you more intently now, and you can't help the warm sensation that pools in your abdomen. "you'd want to keep me around?" he questions. you nod. pang, twinge.

he tilts his helmet to rest against your forehead. a kov'nyn. a mandalorian kiss. pang, twinge, butterflies. silent admission.

"this is the way." his voice is shy and quiet. "ibic cuyir te ara." you echo, in mando'a.

he steps closer, engulfing your frame in his broad one. your hands come to his helmet, stroking the sides of it gently. "I'm yours." you sigh airily. that's all it takes for him to switch. he grabs at your body, moving you towards your bedroom with hast. the back of your legs hit the bed and you sit, he kneels down and tugs at the bottom of your tunic— looking for permission. you pull the tunic over your head, your bare breasts on display for him. he soaks in every detail. he pulls his gloves odd before he touches you, wanting to feel the warmth of your skin with his own hands. he palms gently at the soft tissue, a quiet whimper escaping your lips.

"so perfect" he breaks the silence, moving his hands up and down your torso, inching closer to the waist band of your shorts. you lift yourself up so that he can pull them down, and they're discarded somewhere to the side. you don't care enough to notice, just focusing on him.

he moves his hands over your waist and hips, squeezing the soft flesh there gently. he moves lower, towards your thighs, then the back of your knees, pulling them apart. cold breeze tingles lightly at your core. you're already soaked, and he knows it. he chuckles. "all this for me, cyar'ika?" he teases, moving his hands agonisingly closer to where you need him most.

"stop teasing." you pant, sounding more needy than you wanted to.

"I'm just taking my time, savouring every moment..." he replies breathily. he moves his hands to the inside of your thighs, stroking up and down them slowly. you move your hands to prop you up, anticipating his next move. he takes one finger and pulls it up through your slit slowly, watching your face twist in relief. a soft gasp leaves your mouth. he adds another finger, paying more attention to your clit this time. pang, pang, pang. he circles it softly and gently, then he pinches it— you wince with pleasure and tilt your head to the side. 'din, please..." you beg pathetically.

"easy, cyar'ika..." he says lowly, circling your clit faster this time. you can feel the coil in your belly getting tighter. then suddenly, he slips a finger into your entrance, while his other hand palms at your thigh. you moan— shamelessly. then he adds another. his thick fingers pumping in and out slowly, methodically. you throw your head back and cling onto his forearm that lays on your thigh.

"din— please— fuck.." you breathe rapidly. he watches as your breasts bounce slightly from the rise and fall of your laboured breathes. he likes this. the making you wait, watching you fall apart.. all just from a couple of his fingers. he smiles drunkly under the helmet. the pressure in your belly is getting tighter, and your breathe is picking up pace— almost in synchronisation with his fingers speeding up.

he moves this hand from your thigh to play with your clit using his thumb, pressing and swirling around. your moans are getting more high pitched, and your propping yourself up with your elbows now. your head lulls back as you moan again. din's pants start to feel tighter and tighter with each sound you make, his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

"let go for me." he says, spend up more. you almost don't hear him until he says your name and repeats himself. you move your head to look at him, and where his fingers are squelching in and out of your pussy.

"fuck— din.. I'm gonna come..." you rasp out. "I know.. let go." and that's all it takes. your back falls against your bed as white fills your vision. your breathing starts to regulate again, and din removes his fingers from you. he stares at the shine that coats his fingers, proud.

you muster up enough strength to sit up again slowly, taking his hand and moving his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean.

"fuck.." it comes out quietly from his modulator. twinge, twinge, twinge. he moves his free hand to brush your hair away from your face, looking at the glow that adorns your face.

"I need you." you whine, hands moving to his belt and feverishly unbuckling it, dropping his belt to the side. he strips himself from his armour and flight suit, leaving him in only his boxers and helmet.

you soak in the sight. it was even better than what you had imagined at night while you touched yourself quietly, that started after week 4. he's tanned, with a thin layer of hair splaying across his chest. he's muscular too, which explains his impeccable strength. you move further up the bed, and he follows. he palms at your sides while you get comfortable amongst the pillows.

your hands trail down his chest, lower, and lower. both of your breathing is picking up again, his helmet inches from your face. he presses it against your forehead, "please.." it's his turn to beg now. you take your hand to his crotch and palm him through the fabric of his pants. he moans quietly, and lowly while you do. after a few moments, he moves your hand away and pins it next to your head. "I can't wait any longer, been waiting too long for this, fuck..."

you lick your lips in anticipation, and spread wider for him. remnants of your previous orgasm coating your thighs and dripping onto the sheets below. din pulls his boxers down and tosses them away, then he takes himself in his hand. he's thick. thicker than you had imagined. you're almost afraid he won't fit. "I'll take this slow, okay?" he assures you, brushing your hair back once more. you nod.

"I want you to tell me if you want me to stop." he continues. you nod again— "say it." he almost demands. "I'll tell you if I want you to stop." you confirm, resting your hands on his biceps and squeezing slightly to reassure him.

he nods before lining himself up with your entrance, and pushing in slowly. you both moan in unison. the burn makes your eyes water, but once he bottoms out, you moan again. he stills, waiting for you to ebb him on. you adjust your posture to take him better and squeeze his bicep again. a silent you can move. he starts slowly, pulling out carefully, before sinking back into your warm, tight cunt. he moans again as he bottoms out for a second time.

"I want to kiss you." you breathe out. you don't know what he'll say, you're afraid he'll pull out and leave.

he leans across to the lamp next to your bed, and dims it. his other hand still holding yours. you can barely see him, just a side profile. you hear the click of his helmet coming off, and the bed dipping down next to you where he's placed his helmet. you can feel his breath, warm and strong, as he inches closer. you raise your hand from his bicep to his face, cupping his cheek like he did to you so many times before. then, he kisses you. pang, twinge, butterflies.

it's soft and slow, he parts your lips with his tongue, and you happily oblige. his tongue swirls around yours, and he makes sure to remember every detail. the warmth, the way you suck in breath through your nose so sharply. he deepens it with a newfound urgency, and thrusts deep into you, much faster this time. you moan into him and return the deepening of the kiss.

he pulls out, then thrusts fast and deep. again, and again, and again. your back arches off of the bed, pulling him in closer. your chests touching with the rise and fall of your breathing. he bites your lip, and you swear you can feel him smile. he moves his mouth from yours to your cheek, then your ear, your jaw, your neck, and finally your collarbone. nipping and sucking at the skin there— and it sets your skin on fire. every sensation is heightened.

thrust, thrust, thrust. he's picking up his pace now, and the coil in your belly is pulling tighter again. you moan, and your free hand finds his hair, soft and slightly curly, tugging and pulling at it. he moans into the skin of your neck, releasing your hand from his and moving it to your clit, circling it with a needy pace. your moans are more frequent, more whiney. your breasts bounce back and forth softly with each of his thrusts. he takes his other hand and grabs at anything he can. your waist, hip, thigh, ass, tits. he lets them linger there, taking your nipple between his fingers and twisting and pinching at it.

his hand trails further up your body, and he palms at your upper chest— your collarbones, pushing into them gently. then further up, until he meets your neck, and he wraps his hand loosely around it, squeezing gently.

you swear you could've come right then and there. your moans are becoming pornographic, in time with his thrusts. his are lower, more like a grunt. he takes his hand away from your neck and hikes your leg up higher, over his shoulder, hitting that spongy spot inside you, over, and over again.

your head thrashes back into the pillows and you let out a low, guttural moan, cursing and chanting his name, along with a string of 'yes, yes, yes,' and 'just like that— oh fuck..". your own name falling out of his mouth like a hymn against your skin, right next to your ear. his moans are loud and clear now, and it only pushes you further over the edge.

he takes your other leg and tosses it over his shoulder, quickening his pace. the sounds that fill the room are sinful, the squelching of him pistoning in and out of you, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass, all coming together in a sweet symphony. he memorises it. every breath, every whine, every moan, every time you squeeze his cock. twinge, twinge, twinge.

"fuck— I'm, close, din" you whine, one hand coming to your clit as you circle it at a violent pace, the other back too his hair. pulling and tugging to ebb him on, and oh does he obey. pushing your legs back against your chest, flush with your breasts, and he fucks into you hard, fast, and deep.

"fuck, fuck, fuck... maker. your little cunt is just made for me, cyar'ika.." he moans and whimpers. he actually whimpers. you swear then and there that you will never forget that sound, carved into your memory. his pace is feverish now, rocking your body back and forth, knocking the air out of your lungs almost. the band inside you is about to snap, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"cmon baby, come all over this dick.." he encourages. and that's all it takes, again. you're a moaning, withering mess beneath his large body. he doesn't stop, fucking you through your orgasm at the same pace. tears roll down the sides of your face from the overstimulation, and all of a sudden you have a newfound strength inside of you.

you flip through two of you over, and now he's under you. his back flush with the bed, and his arms clawing at your hips. "fuck—" he grunts out. the dim glow from the lamp illuminates you perfectly. the glow of your slick, sweat covered skin, the way your hair reflects the light. your hands come to his chest so you can brace yourself. "your turn." you breathe, and he let's you. he let's you take over. then— he stops you. "wait. I have an idea."

you stop your movements, him still buried to the hilt inside of you. he picks up his helmet next to him and sets it to the blackout setting on the visor, and then puts it on you. it smells like him, you think to yourself. your senses are almost heightened from him taking away your sight, and you feel him move beneath you as he turns the light back up. "I wanna see you put on a show, cyar'ika." he rubs his hands up and down your sides encouragingly. from his view, he swears he could die like this and not have any complaints.

he can see your body fully now. beautiful and full atop of him. he palms at your ass again. you take that as a hint to move.

you rock back and forth against him slowly, your clit bumping into your pelvis with each movement. your moans are free in the air now (or rather through the modulator of the helmet. his helmet), and you start to slowly raise yourself off of his cock, before slamming back down against him. his moans are praise enough for your efforts. you do it again, and again, and again, until you've got a nice pace set. his hands frantically move up and down your body. your sides, your ass, your thighs, he cups your breasts and watches them bounce up and down with each rise and fall on his cock. yeah, he can die happy now.

you take hold of his wrist, and guide him to your neck. he wraps his large, warm hand around it gently, and then squeezes the sides. you moan, and he swears it's the loudest, most satisfied noise he's ever heard in his life. he moves his hands to play with your breasts again, squeezing and grabbing at them sloppily. he pulls you closer so that he can take them in his mouth, and your hands tangle in his hair again.

you yank his head back, and he whimpers again.

"fuck— yes, yes, yes.." you chant. you tilt your frame back now, bracing your hands on his thighs behind you as you plunge up and down with a blinding speed now. he palms at your thighs, and the moans and whimpers are falling endlessly past his lips now. you throw your head back, picking up the pace as much as humanly possible. "just like that baby— just like that." he praises, his own head falling heavy into the pillows beneath him.

he twitches inside of you, and you can tell he's close— you are too. just a few more thrusts, and you're there.

"shit, where do you want it?" he suddenly rasps. your pace doesn't falter. "inside. want you to spill into me." you breathe. he moans immediately, and twitches again. pang, pang, pang. twinge, twinge, twinge.

you bring yourself forward again and your hands are on his chest, he holds one of your elbows, and the other hand occupies your hip. then it happens. he comes, fast and hard, and deep. you follow soon after, still sloppily and slowly rocking back and forth against him.

din swears that's the closest he's felt to heaven. "shit—" he gasps. you collapse into his chest as the initial high comes down. he reaches back over to the lamp and dims in, before removing his helmet from your head. he brushes the hairs stuck to your skin with sweat away from your face, and he pulls your face towards his for another deep, rough kiss. you moan into him, hands finding his soft curls once again. he finally pulls away for breath, and you can feel the air between you being sucked in and breathed out, sharing oxygen.

you drop your head to rest next to his, still on top of him, him still buried to the hilt inside of you. you can feel his cock still pumping thick, warm come inside of you— coating every inch. it drips down out of your cunt and onto his pelvis, and your thigh. completely and utterly spent.

he gently strokes you, tracing shapes on the small of your back. the rhythm of his chest calming you.

"ni kar'tayl darasuum gar" I love you, you breath against his jaw and kiss him there. "this is the way", he replies. "I love you too." he kisses your temple, breathing in your scent. din pulls the covers over you, turning you both onto your sides, still comfortably buried in you. the shadow from your own face covers his, but you can see the colour of his eye that is illuminated. by the lamp. warm and brown. now your favourite colour in the galaxy. you memorise it, you don't know when you'll see it again.— your hands tracing every dip and curve of his face. he smiles against you and pulls you closer. you shift your leg up to trap him beneath it, and the movement makes him grunt again.

"keep doing that, and I might come again." he chuckles. you mirror him.

"we have plenty of time." you rub your nose against his, and the press your forehead to his.

you have no plans on fixing that hyperdrive anytime soon.

this was my first time writing smut, so I hope it was alright. lmk your thoughts in the notes!! like and reblog too maybe ;)))) — may write a pt2 if this does well??? 👀👀

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls. 

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip. 

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out. 

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin. 

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too. 

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long. 

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now. 

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover. 

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you. 

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

[nymphomatique]

special affair

dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

art credit: _insomniac_red_ on ig. pictures are for mood setting, reader has no specific race or physical descriptions.

cw: a lil angsty, this is just shameless smut im sorry guys i don’t know what came over me, daddy kink, dbf!miguel <3, unspecified age gap but reader is legal, rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex, miguel is not a good man, conflicted reader, creampie, lowkey breeding kink, degrading language, choking/breath play, face slapping, spitting, mentions of oral (m), overstimulation, crying/dacryphillia, pubic hair grinding? lmao idk, reader is alluded to being in sub space. not proofread lol. 18+ only.

wc: ~1.5k

❤︎ an: hi my loves!! this is a sorta part two to this drabble, but can be read as a stand alone one shot. tbh i wrote this w my pussy.. i’m ovulating rn i’m so ashamed of myself 😔 nevertheless, enjoy! if you guys want more don’t hesitate to lmk!!

from that first night he fucked you from behind, you knew you strayed too far from the status quo in your life, you’re at the point of no return. that night, when he finished pounding you from behind and defiling you further with his seed all over your back and ass, you had laid in that position— spent and on your stomach- for the rest of the night, silently sobbing. you had betrayed your father, that much you were aware of the day you started rubbing at yourself meekly in the dead of the night thinking about his best friend.

you had long come to terms with that guilt, accepting whatever image of a burning inferno there is in the afterlife. what you cannot come to terms with, is the fact that he- miguel- had actually fucked you, indulged in what you considered your own taboo thoughts, ripping them from page and making your crude thoughts a sick reality. the worst part of this all is that amidst it all, the mental beratement, the nights you spent crying, the sick feeling the memories of miguel’s cock stretching you absolutely thin, showing you a climax like no other— you want to hate yourself for it, for being weak. for being such a bad girl. but you didn’t know why your body decided to betray your brain, the physical craving for the older man’s body possessing you whole. you can’t bear this feeling, holding it up inside you and trying to keep it at bay. fuck- you needed to talk to someone, you had to, even if it’s the last person you want to speak to.

nevertheless, you end up two houses down, sniffling and heaving in the dead of the night, knocking the door as hard as your trembling hands would let you. the door swings open and at the sight of him you keen, your body aching at the sight of the burly muscles covered in sun kissed skin. dark brown hair streaked with grey at the temples. a slight five o’clock shadow, he must not have shaved this morning. and then you look into those eyes, swallowing you up whole and you begin to tear up again. miguel is silent, leaning against the door with messy hair, glazed eyes and clad in boxers, and boxers only. fuck, you shouldn’t have come here.

“I-.. Miguel, it hurts,” you sob quietly, aflame with shame and embarrassment at how little resolve you had. He grabs your face with his warm hands and you’re trembling now, ready for him. your lips ghost for a moment before he breathes out. “i’m not a good man, sweetheart. if you don’t say no, i’m gonna break you.” he sounds sincere with his words and his eyes go stern. you wish you had some self of self control, or maybe having better discernment. but the only thing you say to him only confirms what you already knew about yourself; you’re a terrible fucking person. 

“violate me.”

your lips are smashed against each other, tongues dancing and it feels so good to be in his embrace again. your tears fall down your cheeks, meeting at the junction of your mouths in a pool of saliva. miguel groans and you know why, remembering what he had said to you the last time.

“i like when you cry.”

you’re grabbed up at the hips, legs wrapped around a thick torso, pressed up against a firm chest and a heavy cock. the moments up to the bedroom are cloudy, drunk off his lips against yours. you come to slightly when cold plush sheets hit your back and a pair of lips leave yours. you whine, yearning for his touch again. he looks down at you, bringing your right foot to his mouth, he licks lightly up the sole- kissing the ball of your foot before he leans down, caging your between his elbows, face to face.

“you gonna be good for your daddy?” he asks softly, kissing between the bridge of your nose once. 

“y-yes,” you breathe out with a slow nod. 

“mmm. gonna let me violate this tight little body too?” he asks, still soft in tone and you think you’re gonna go crazy by the end of the night. “yes, daddy,” you murmur, lost in his eyes. 

“sick fucking little girl. but that’s how i like it,” he chuckles, kissing you softly before getting up stripping you bare.

“letting your daddy undress you like a good girl. so obedient f’me,” he coos at you, touching you softly and you’re almost in tears. you need him. and you let it be known. a lone tear falls down your cheek and you mewl, “n-need you to make it better down there, daddy.”

his large hand engulfs you cheek, thumb wiping your tear softly before squishing your face, putting his tear stained thumb in your mouth. “you think you’re a big girl now, hmm? telling your daddy what to do?” you look up at him teary eyed, suckling his thick finger.

“you take what i give you, when i give it to you.” he squeezes you cheek a little harder before softly slapping your cheek and you squeak at the contact. a rough laugh leaves miguel’s mouth at your reaction. “you have no idea how bad i’m gonna treat you, baby.”

you’re non verbal at this point, mouth agape and leaking saliva down your jaw seeping into the sheets and the junction of your neck and chest. a hand slaps your cheek again, you’ve lost how many that is now. “i fucked you stupid already?” miguel laughs, hard thrusts sending you flying up the bed. his hands on your hips bring you down back to him each time, poking you right in that sweet spot in your pussy. you’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve head, body wracked and numb with pleasure. throat hoarse from the near-violent throat fuck he gave you.

a glob of spit hits your forehead and you groan a bit. the one thing you’re sure of is that you look a goddamned mess. a crude picture of the activity you’ve been partaking in for the past two hours. a hand leaves your hip to wrap around your neck and squeeze roughly, making you gasp for air, your body finally moving.

“there we go, got you moving now. thought i fucked you to sleep for a second.” 

your eyes are glossy, at the lack of air and building pressure. your hand meekly wraps around his wrist as he fucks into you. you know you shouldn’t like the way he toys with you like this, waking the line of torment and pleasure with no care in the world. but you do. and you can’t deny it anymore.

“you’re tightening up on me again. you gonna cum for me again?” miguel asks you, and he laughs after knowing you can’t even answer him. “sick little girl. you like it when i choke you? make you feel weak? worthless?” 

it’s barely audible, but the moan you let out vibrates in your neck and miguel can feel it with the hand pressed against your throat. he throws his head back with a groan. “nasty, naughty girl. fuck baby, gonna cum in that little pussy.”

you’re almost there, and quite frankly impressed that you haven’t fully passed out yet. your head feels light, and you begin to tremble violently, gushing out spurts of liquid as your head falls to the side. if this is hell, you’re not so sure you could give this up for heaven. your eyes close and you feel so close to falling asleep when he removes his hand from your neck, grabbing your head by the nape of your neck, craning you up to where you can see his thick cock slip and slide between your thighs. you groan at the image. 

“need you awake to see me cum in you, don’t i?” miguel groans. “you like watching me fuck you, like letting me dirty you.”

 his tuft of black pubic hair rubs against yours as his thrusts become increasingly sporadic and intense, and it has you trembling at the stimulation it gives your clit. you weakly squirt each time his pelvis brushes against your clit, your body letting you know you have only so much left in you before you’re drained empty.

“fuck, love it when you wet the bed. my pissy little girl. daddy loves the messes you make.” he’s nearly breathless and you pray he’s going to cum in the next minute, the ache in your neck and dull sensation in your pussy building slowly.

“c-cum in me. wanna give you a baby,” you moan, looking up from the fast thrusts and into miguel’s eyes. 

“fuck! so n-naughty, baby. gonna give me another one, huh? fucking take it, then.” with a final thrust, you feel the warmth of his cum shoot and blossom somewhere deep within you. you moan weakly, one final weak spurt of squirt coming out of you. miguel pulls out and you watch him look at the mess he made of you and your pussy, covered in spit, cum and the beginnings of handprint bruises blossoming on your hips and ass from how hard he gripped and spanked you. 

you can feel his cum slowly trickle out of you, and your body feels like it’s no longer your own. after so many orgasms, your limbs are on fire, and you can do nothing but breathe and weakly murmur a “d-daddy..” while your eyes close.

tags: @realhotgirlshitah @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @maxiethestrange

message me to be removed!

[tyunkus]

call you later — kang taehyun

pairing: idol!taehyun x afab!idol!reader wc: 2.3k

summary: you and your boyfriend haven’t seen each other in a while—busy end-of-the-year performances and schedules make sure of that. still, you’ve both worked so hard . . .

warnings: phone sex, dirty talk, teasing, free use mention, mutual masturbation, pet names, no penetration, no nothing tbh it’s literally just phone sex, OH YEAH YOU’RE HIS NOONA, pretty tame i’d say

note: happy 2 year anniversary to tyunkus (me!!!!)!!! here’s a surprise. this is very lightly edited and proofread, ok, i just really wanted to get something out for you guys. missed everyone here soso dearly <3 both reader and taehyun are idols in this, but due to them having extremely busy and vastly differing schedules, reader is in a hotel somewhere in an unspecified location, while taehyun is in tokyo. it’s been a while since i’ve engaged with kpop in general so forgive me for any unrealistic/downright wrong writing hehe. this is the taehyun i was imagining, fyi. love u guys!!!!!

A thousand and some kilometres away from Tokyo, you watch Taehyun’s performance on your TV screen.

You two had been texting, on and off, for the past thirty minutes before TXT appeared onstage. You have a similar conversation every time something like this happens, when one of you is performing and the other remains at home. An initial check-in turns into banter, turns into full-fledged flirting, back-and-forth in quick succession. You send selfies between messages (today, you send one of yourself in bed, scantily clad in a thin tank top, its strap falling loosely off your shoulder). Sometimes, Taehyun slips in a dirty comment (today, he limits himself to one kissy face reaction in response to your photo). Most of the time, after only a few minutes, you say goodbye (I love you, I miss you, call you later), right before the show starts (you turn on the hotel TV, click through the channels until you see an idol you recognize in a stadium you’ve performed at before. KBS Song Festival. A big deal, of course—it’s a shame your group couldn’t go). It’s only a matter of minutes before their performance begins.

What is there to say? Taehyun kills it like he always does. He’s wearing that sleeveless tank top that dips just beneath his obliques. You can see the sheen of sweat covering each ridge of his muscles there, reflecting off of the stadium lights crystal-clear even through the terrible stream quality. You feel all smitten and giggly, like a fangirl or something, and as much as it’s embarrassing and he would absolutely make fun of you for it, you can’t even bring yourself to care.

You watch until the very end, even after all of the groups congregate on the stage to wave goodbye to fans. You keep a close eye on TXT the entire time, your gaze following the unclear figure of your boyfriend in the distance, and are content just watching his broad, solid figure move among waves of idols until eventually the show dwindles into a dead black screen.

You’re sleepy. You have been for the past two hours that you watched the entire program; without Taehyun on the screen to capture your attention, you’re finding it hard to keep his promise to stay up until you can call. Swallowed by the comfort of the hotel’s downy pillows and duvet, you are just about to give into the temptation of sleep when Taehyun’s caller ID appears at the top of your screen and you jolt awake.

“Hello?” Taehyun says once you pick up, his voice deep and tinged with fatigue. It’s quiet on his end. No gruff yells from his groupmates, no shower sounds in the background that indicate someone else is in the room. In fact, the other day he had been very happy to tell you that he lucked out on getting his own hotel room. “You there, baby?”

You close your eyes and imagine that you hear the gentle rumble of his voice through his bones and muscle instead of the lifeless steel of your phone. A smile spreads on your face, completely involuntary, but then you miss him again with a pang in your chest. Truthfully, you know your separation is not a big deal. You had already planned around it, even, your next date (rather, reunion) coming up sometime next week, and yet—and yet. What you would do to feel him against you, real life and blood under your fingertips. “I’m here,” you confirm. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. Super tired.”

“I watched your performance. You did so well.”

He laughs breathily. You can hear the exhaustion. “I hoped so,” he replies. “Did you watch the whole thing?”

You nod, though you know he can’t see you. “Of course I did. You were perfect.”

“Wow, perfect?” Taehyun goads, obviously pleased. “Which part did you like the most?”

He’s baiting you, you know. You roll your eyes then flip over on your back, humming in faux contemplation. “Well. I really liked Soobin’s center part during the bridge, I thought he did really well.”

“Ahh. Good choice. What else?”

“And I thought they styled Yeonjun really well, too, it suits him, his new hair—”

“Yeonjun-hyung?” That strikes a nerve. Taehyun never told you himself, but you know from Huening Kai that Yeonjun had been planning to make moves on you when your groups first met all those months ago at a music show. It never worked since you never noticed; you were hooked on a particular boba-eyed vocalist from the start. His voice lilts, mostly joking, slightly expectant: “What about me, hmm?”

“You? I don’t have much to say about you.”

“Should I end the call?”

“I mean—I mean that of course I liked your voice the most,” you say, through giggles. “And your styling was really good. The shirt lifting part was unnecessary, though.”

“You didn’t like it? I did it just for you.”

“I guess I don’t know how to feel, knowing thousands of non-mes know what your abs look like.”

“You have the upper hand,” Taehyun points out. “Those non-yous don’t know how my abs feel.”

You smile so hard you have to bury your face in your pillow to overcome the embarrassment. “My turn. How’d you like my performance?” The AAAs had happened only yesterday. In between that and Taehyun’s travel schedule to Japan, you two hadn’t been able to talk much last night—hell, for the past several nights. Still, that didn’t stop Taehyun from sending you a link of a viral tweet showing your outfit: a tiny little dress, shimmery, hugging just around your waist, cut to expose several inches of your torso. Goddamn, his text underneath read, followed by a melting emoji.

Taehyun replies without hesitation. “The choreography was interesting. Not what I expected, but you pulled it off. Even though I could tell you were nervous.”

Leave it to Taehyun to be brutally honest, even with his own girlfriend. “Not really a compliment, is it?” 

“I’m just telling you what I think, baby.”

“What else do you think?” you prod, unsatisfied.

“You looked beautiful, but that’s obvious. I was scared you would slip, but that doesn’t matter.”

You raise your eyebrows, expectant. “Well?”

“And I liked your outfit. I wished you could have taken it home.”

You scoff. What a ridiculous notion. The styling team would kill you and you wouldn’t even blame them for it. “Why would I do that?”

“So I could take it off of you.”

And, well. You slap a hand over your eyes, blushing to high heaven. “Fuck,” you say, eloquently.

“Mmhm. Wouldn’t that be nice? I’d start with the tights. Maybe rip them off, buy the styling team a new pair as an apology,” Taehyun suggests, his voice dipping an octave lower. Oh, you think, squeezing your thighs together ever so slightly. “You said you didn’t like that I lifted my shirt, but your dress was barely covering anything. Imagine how I feel, huh? Watching you dance in that tight little—”

“Taehyun,” you scold. “You can’t—I don’t—”

“You can wear whatever you want, noona,” Taehyun continues, “as long as I’m the only one who sees that beautiful body underneath, okay?”

“It’s all yours,” you manage, your cheeks burning. You hear a little grunt on his end, and decide to turn it back on him. “You’re breathing awfully hard.”

He lets out a throaty groan, full and rasping, and the sound makes you ache. “Yeah? Can’t f-fucking help myself. You’re so—mm, fuck—so hot.”

“Taehyun,” you whine, going for reprimanding but coming across as desperate instead. Fuck, you can hear the wet sounds his hand is making curled over his cock. How long had it been since he started touching himself? you wonder. Your mouth waters. “Don’t. Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… I’m not…”

“You don’t like it?” he questions, his voice lilting when he loses his breath, so fucked out. Unfair, you think, just as he breathes out a little chuckle through the phone, his mouth so close to the mic you can almost feel it on the nape of your neck. “No, no, I know you do. Know you’re rubbing those pretty fucking thighs together right now, right? Just so”—his voice wavers here—“so fucking desperate for me.”

You can’t help it. “I am,” you gasp, sliding a hand down between your thighs, finally, finally. You’re wet, so wet that if Taehyun were here, fuck, you would never hear the end of it. You can just imagine the smile on his face, lazy, pleased, just as he cups his nice, big hand over your wet, dripping cunt. The thought makes you moan even louder. “Need you, I need you. I miss—mmm, I miss you.”

“Yeah? You miss me, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you gasp, breath stuttering, fuck it feels good, “I—I’ve been fucking myself thinking about you, Taehyun, I—”

“God,” he groans, and the sound of his fist moving against his cock only grows louder. “Fuck, tell me more.”

“Shit, mmm, it—it doesn’t work, it only works with you,” you whine, your entire face hot, flushed. It’s embarrassing, you realize dimly, embarrassing to confess how needy and desperate you’ve been. But God, if it isn’t true. How many nights now has it been since you’ve felt his touch? Dance practice, vocal lessons, team meetings on both ends. Lately, it’s been hard to keep up with your own schedule, much less Taehyun’s. It’s probably been a few weeks by now, all those busy days seeping into each other, it’s hard to tell. It doesn’t matter, anyway—you just know that you need him.

Taehyun says nothing at first, just huffs out a breath into the microphone, harsh and desperate. You don’t even notice, dipping your fingers between your folds, imagining tufts of chocolate brown hair tickling the inside of your thighs as he eats you out, the strength of his sturdy arms keeping your legs spread wide open for him; all the while, you pump your fingers in and out, your own wetness making loud noises that he can most definitely hear on the other end, fuck, it’s so embarrassing. Then, Taehyun speaks.

“When I come home,” he begins, and shit, even just hearing that has your cunt throbbing, “when I come home, baby, I’m just gonna use you, okay? Fuck, you don’t even know how rough this past week has been—just been thinking, dreaming of your tight little cunt, shit, I miss you so much.”

“Taehyun,” you gasp, clenching around yourself. You moan, all pitchy and pathetic. “You—you’re s-such a tease.”

“I’m not the tease here, baby,” Taehyun replies easily. “Looked so sexy in that outfit, like you wanted me to see—wanted me to want you—and I do, fuck, I do, ’s why I’m gonna use you, rough you up, however I want.”

Too much. You almost say so, burying your face into the softness of your pillow, trying to imagine that his warm body was there with you, on top, underneath, it doesn’t matter. You want him. It is almost ridiculous how much you wants him. You nearly forget to answer. “Really?” you squeak, and Taehyun only laughs, sweet and affectionate.

“Of course, baby. I know that’s what you want. You know, I used to feel so bad about wanting to treat you rough, like a slut—until I realized that you fucking love it.”

Oh. Oh, fuck. You feel a jolt of energy sail down your spine, making your whole body tremble. “I’m close. I’m close, Taehyun, ’m so fucking close,” you wail, and you sound like a fucking bitch, and it’s only worse when you imagine his voice saying that, rough just the way you liks it. “Please, pleasepleaseplease, wanna cum, fuck—”

Taehyun is thousands of kilometers away, an entirely different country, even, and yet he still has you heaving, mindless, shaking all over your bed, begging to come. This is not lost on you; you turnsyour head, embarrassed, relishing in how soft the pillow feels against your open lips and closed eyelids.

“No,” Taehyun says suddenly, and your eyes fly open. “Don’t muffle your moans. Let me hear you through the phone, baby. Let me hear you while you come,” he urges, and at once you lift your head from the pillow, your hair a mess over your face, your entire body sweating and pulsing and wanting. “Are you close? Are you fucking close just from listening to my voice?”

“Mmnn, yes, yes, I am, I’m close—”

“Good girl. Good girl, you’re doing so well, my pretty girl, all fucked out from hearing me touch myself. Want you to imagine that I’m with you, okay? Imagine that I’m the one touching you, making you feel good. What are you, hm?”

There, almost there. You can scarcely breathe, squeezing your thighs together, feeling your own wetness against your fingers, imagining it’s him. “Oh, Taehyun, I—mm, fuck, I—”

“Focus, baby. What are you?”

“I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl.”

Taehyun lets out a moan, low and deep and raspy. You are about to lose your goddamn mind. “Let’s come together, okay?”

“Mhm, please, I want to. Love you, I love you—”

“Baby, baby—”

“Keep—keep going, Taehyun—”

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum—”

A beat of near-silence; thousands of kilometers apart, your bodies seize in tandem, right before shockwaves of pleasure take over completely. Taehyun lets out a throaty groan, and you hear the shlick shlick shlick of his fist pumping his cock, and as you finish, you swear you feel his hands gripping your waist, his lips brushing your forehead, his entire trembling body slotted over yours.

The next morning, when Taehyun wakes up in his hotel room in Tokyo, he sees you have sent him a link. It leads to a viral Tweet of his own photos—four close-up shots of his abs, taken during Tinnitus, no doubt. Your text underneath reads: Goddamn, followed by a melting emoji.

[blue-jisungs]

a laugh for a coffee

# author's note ... not proofread, sorry!!!! also this is based on a tiktok i saw lmao

# setting ... non-idol!haechan, barista!yn, grumpy x sunshine

# warnings ... yns kinda a bitch lmaooo but tbh a mood, i relate ;; swearing

you knew it was an awful idea. every normal person would know. especially a person that values money.

but mark, apparently, is none of those.

standing behind the counter, arms crossed on your chest, you let out a deep sigh. your overly optimistic co-worker just shook his head.

“come on, dude! some smile won’t hurt anyone!” mark whined and looked at you like a kicked puppy.

“you sound like a typical karen right now” you grunted and noticed the first customer glancing at the flier taped to the window. their eyes widened and they rushed inside.

“see! told you it was a brill–”

“hello, how can i help you today?” you cut him off, monotonically greeting the person.

“i saw the flier, so here’s my attempt: knock knock”

you just shot a side eye to mark, who grinned.

the flier that he hung up this morning (supposedly with consent of your boss, but that you’d argue) said ‘make our barista laugh and get a free coffee! :)’

so that’s why, right now, you’re obliged to answer:

“who’s there?”

“interrupting cow” they puffed their chest out. you already felt it in your bones that it’s just a bad joke.

“interrupting c–” you tried to bounce the line back, as the joke usually goes but…

“MOO!” they mooed.

they mooed.

mark started laughing and they send him finger guns. you remained unbothered, tapping your fingers against the counter. the customer scoffed and pulled out their wallet.

“you’re a tough one, huh? i’ll just get an espresso then” they smiled and you nodded, taking the order.

“come on, dude. that was good!” mark shook his head and you went to the coffee machine, ignoring him.

you were known to be the grumpy person, quite everywhere. whether it was your class, friend group, work environment or family. but that was your attitude, and it wasn’t even all the time. you just saved your words, not caring about bullshit. besides, it was mostly towards strangers. when you opened up to mark, he later revealed that he thought something possessed you. but not everyone has to be nice to strangers and fake laugh at their terrible jokes.

mark seemed not to understand that, though, and made it his goal for today to witness that happening.

you knew he won’t succeed. it would take a really good joke or a child falling to make you smile… not to mention laughing. especially at work, when you just want to get your shit done and money earned. if you wanted to have a job that’s just for shits and giggles, you’d work in entertainment.

“oh no, not me. her. yah, y/n, come here! there’s another joke for you!”

sighing deeply, you turned on your heel.

this is going to be a horrendous day.

you were expecting the end of your shift like a small kid expects christmas. minutes were running painfully slow, hours - even slower. it felt like an extremely boring class, when you close your eyes for ten minutes but it turns out it wasn’t even a full minute.

that’s how you felt; dreadful jokes one after another. at some point you just decided to zone out, planning your tomorrow day off. your mind just fished out the orders and isolated the awful puns.

“yo, dude! hi!” mark’s voice boomed in your ear sickeningly loudly (well, maybe because he was standing right next to you).

focused on making a cappuccino (who even orders those at 7pm?), the smell of freshly grounded coffee making you wonder if you should go cafe hopping tomorrow. carefully angling the pearl white cup, you poured the milk foam from above. when the cup was ⅔ full, you lowered the pitcher with milk as close as possible and reflexively wiggled the vessel gently to create a flowery pattern. then at the end, you flattened the cup and finished the milky masterpiece with a swift move.

“it’s amazing how she does that with no emotions on her face whatsoever”

“because i’m at work, you fuck–” you wanted to growl but your eyes shot up, meeting with a new customer “oops”

the guy giggled and shook his head.

you placed the beverage on the tray, next to a warm croissant with chocolate and mark grabbed it. leaving the space to deliver the order, you stepped to the cash desk again.

“can i take your order?” your voice was cold.

maybe it wasn’t the best approach for work but you couldn’t help it. especially today.

glancing at the customer, you realized it’s one of (many) mark’s friends. his brown hair was fluffy and loosely falling on his forehead, cutely matching with the beige hoodie he had on–

stop.

“what’s up with the flier thing? even mark texted me…” he started but was cut off by the canadian himself.

“haechan, finally! how are you?” his voice was a bit panicked, rushingly coming up to you.

haechan, that’s the name. or nickname? you’re pretty sure you heard mark call him donghyuck before. maybe it’s an inside joke?

“good, actually. i wanted to grab some coffee because i’ll probably pull an all nighter today” he explained and his curious doppio colored eyes scanned you. with the corner of his lips turning upwards, he thought of something “actually, you know… i’m a student and…”

your body language spoke louder than words because he pivoted and said something else.

“whatever. but truth be told, i looked up tips on how to make a girl smile. some were really creepy, dude. ‘tickle her’ or ‘make a silly dance’? like, what kind of loser came up with those? even worse, what kind of loser would do those?” he smiled to himself. that was true - he went through quora and other wikihows. if his plan - which was mostly just yapping - didn’t work out, he planned to do a silly dance. ‘chicken dance’ was what one of the sites proposed.

“i think you forgot to mention the kind of losers who even look up such tips in the first place” you huffed and mark’s eyes widened. that’s the first reaction someone managed to pull out from you throughout today. haechan saw his friend’s face and took it as a sign. “speaking of tips, you better hurry up if you want to have a coffee. there’s other customers in the line. by the way, mark why are you still here?”

“i, uh! sorry!” your coworker yelped and rushed to the other cash desk to serve other customers.

“so?” you cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms.

“i bet you heard an awful lot of bad jokes, huh?” he asked, poking the inside of his cheek. mark was listening, somehow managing to also listen to the last customers’ orders.

“yup”

“shit, that was my plan a” haechan sighed dramatically and looked you in the eye “please don’t make me do the dance…”

the pathetic whine wanted to make you laugh itself. but you saw the pure unwillingness to do the dance… and you would never say no to humiliating a man.

and haechan seemed to notice that too. well, he also heard stories about you from mark.

“do the dance, haechan” you nodded, fighting a smile.

he let out a sigh, eyes locking with yours. there was a glint of amusement dancing in his americano-colored irises.

slowly shifting away, he started to awkwardly do the chicken dance. eyeing mark and you, pure agony on his face. it was just like a torture for both of you, really. but you noticed he was different than others and you finally cracked it out: he didn’t want to get a free coffee. he just wanted to make you laugh.

which he did.

with a loud snort, you shook your head.

“okay, you can stop. my eyes are gonna fall out…” you laughed at, well, the mix of events. him doing the dance, the desperation in his eyes and just the overall craziness of this day.

“no way dude, no way” mark laughed maniacally, the other customers’ looks judging the three of you.

haechan nonchalantly fixed his hair, as if nothing happened. then, he leaned against the counter.

“y’know what?” you asked, poking the inside of your cheek while smiling. “sit your ass down, i’ll bring you a coffee and something else. americano, i assume?”

haechan nodded and when you turned around to prepare his beverage, mark exchanged a shocked look with his friend.

you prepared a large iced americano and a cinnamon roll. on top of that, you wrote down your number on a napkin. maybe you’ll regret it, maybe not.

upon delivering it to him, the clock striked 9pm and mark told you to go, and as an apology for putting you through the torture today he said he’ll close up.

so when haechan discovered the phone number (of a girl he’s been crushing on for a month) on a napkin, you were already gone.

“told you that a funny guy–” mark started, leaning on a broom.

“shut up, man” haechan grinned, already saving your phone number.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[luv4fushi]

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

[jiyansthesis]

HEAD SO GOOD SHE HONOR ROLL

summary ー gallagher wasn't stupidー no matter what secret you were trying to keep from him, he was always going to find out.

note ー yeayea ik i have reqs to get to but gallagher has been on mind all damn day and i need him TO LEAVE!! might be ooc tbh but he's not even released yet sooo i DO WHAT I WANT!!! || this is fem reader!! + i lowkey hate this

w/c ー 2.4k

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION | NOT PROOFREAD

"d'ya want this drink or not, doll?" gallagher held a glass in front of your face, light pink liquid sloshing over the edges. "you've been out of it lately."

"i've been perfectly fine." you rolled your eyes, snatching the drink away from him before he made the puddle on the counter larger.

alrightー maybe he was catching on. this was one of the few days where you had gallagher all to yourselfー and you were definitely enjoying it. could anyone really blame you for eyeing the way his buttons could barely hold his shirt together over his chest, how he towered over you, or the way he'd open a can with one finger? every single thing about him had you going rabid internally, but one thing in particular had stuck with you and ravaged your thoughts.

his hands.

they were always covered with glovesー mismatchedー and you'd be lying if you said they didn't distract you every time they were in your line of sight. you hadn't told him about your infatuation with them, knowing that he would make fun of you and tease you any chance he gets. so you decided that you'd keep it your little secret for your sake.

gallagher gave you a knowing glance as you took a sip of the concoction he made for you. "you're a terrible liar, y'know?"

"what would i even be lying about?" you scoffed.

"for one, you were staring at me like you could see through my clothes," he leaned over the counter, close enough that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. "and two, you got a little bit of drool coming out of your mouth."

his thumb shot out, ghosting the side of your lips. you felt your whole body heat up at the proximity and the feeling of his calloused hand cradling your face.

"it's not even drool!" you furrowed your eyebrows, pulling away with your arms crossed, earning a raspy chuckle.

"so you're not admiring how hot your dazzling boyfriend is? harsh blow," he playfully frowned, holding a hand over his heart. he will never truly get over how fun it is to make you embarrassed and watch as you would bury your face into your arms.

"you'd be hotter if you'd shut you mouth for once." you downed the rest of your drink in one go and shot up from your stool, not wanting to give him another reason to taunt you.

you could hear him trailing behind you to the living room, his belt clinking as the canteen nestled at the side of his thigh garter slapped against it with every step he took.

"not even gonna tell me if my drink was good or not?" gallagher tilted his head like a pleading puppy as you collapsed on the couch.

"it was good." you shrugged, focusing on finding the remote that must've fell into the depths of the sofa.

he sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh as he loosened his tie with the other. if this wasn't some intricate ploy to seduce you, you didn't know what else.

"just good, hm?"

"do you want me to give you an expert's opinion?" you sighed in exasperation, turning towards him to only be met with an amused look etched on his face.

"when'd you get so sassyー do i really distract you that much?" he smirked as your eyes widened. he had noticed the way your legs pressed together as grasped at the skin, and he was going to make sure that your prissy attitude was going to stop right here and now.

"you're in for a surprise if you think you're distracting me-"

his hand slowly made its way up to the apex of your thighs, the feathery touch and anticipation sending shivers down your spine. "i'm not distracting you? then you'll be fine not paying attention to anything i'm doing, right doll?"

you were conflicted as you mulled over the consequences of telling him and not spilling your secrets. either he'll leave you high and dry, laughing in your face as you beg for more, or he'll reward youー with the downside of endless teasing right after.

well, future you can always worry about that.

you gripped his wrist, trying to guide him closer to where his hand was inevitably going to end upー if you played your cards right.

"i'm not going any further until you tell me what that pretty little brain of yours was thinking about," he shook his head, your strength not even moving him an inch. he began to trace incomprehensible symbols onto your knee, every stroke feeling like he left behind a burning trail on your flesh.

"can't resist someone like you," you half-joked, hoping that he would accept it and move on already. instead, his eyes narrowed, and he withdrew his hand.

"you gonna tell me the actual truth?" he raised an eyebrow as you whined at the loss of contact. the sound made him subconsciously perk up, but he restrained himself from acting on his desires.

"but it's embarrassingggg," you drawled, pouting as if that would push him over the edge and forget the reason why he was practically edging you. you'd have to applaud him on his self-control thoughー the bulge in his pants was becoming increasingly noticeable.

"so embarrassing you can't even tell your boyfriend? what can be worse than that time you said you got off to my damn voice?"

you knew that ever since you confessed that to him, his ego has been blown out of the water. and you'd be damned if you were going to give him another thing to boost it.

but the uncomfortable heat between your legs was becoming unbearable as you thought about what you could have if you just told him this one little secret.

"well. . ." you trailed off. it wasn't like it was taboo or anything, but it made you irrationally sheepish. "i think your hands areー attractive."

he burst out laughing, running a hand through his silky hair in disbelief. "that was what you were hiding from me? a damn hand kink? you think about my hands when you're riding that pillow of yours?"

you shushed him, scowling at the accusation, but also not denying it. "this is why i wasn't going to tell your ass."

"i hope this makes up for it then."

his scruff tickled at your collarbones as he nibbled at your neck, leaving behind blossoms of purple and red. the tiny gaps and pants that escaped your lips weren't enough for himー he wanted you screaming.

"gal- what are you doing?"

he simply hummed in response, continuing his assault. his gloves were rough as his fingers trailed under your shirt, skimming your nipples, before retracting his touch quickly to rest his hands at your hips to pull you in.

"wanna do me a favor, pretty girl?" his voice seemed even more coarse and rugged than before as he admired his work. you were going to hate hiding these hickeys for the next few days.

you nodded without hesitation, curious to what he was going to ask you to do. in one swift move, he unbuckled his belt and garter, discarding them to the side as he unzipped his pants. his shirt rose up a little, revealing his light happy trail and v-lineー you swore your mouth watered a little.

"g'na keep staring?" he began to unbutton his shirt, the sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows straining against his muscles. you swiftly pulled his pants down, noticing the wet spot on his boxers.

you've done this multiple times before, but every time you released his cock from its confines you still managed to be amazed and in shock.

the head was red and dripping with precum as you rubbed it before slipping it into your mouth without warning. his hips jolted, pushing his dick further into your mouth and causing tears to prick at the sides of your eyes.

"yeahー just like that," gallagher threw his head back against the cushions, adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to keep his composureー which was hanging on by a thread. it was impossible for him to try not to just grip your hair and push your head all the way down.

spit oozed out the sides of your mouth as you gagged, mixing in with his fluids. the messy sight of it had him groaningー what he would give to take a picture of you right now.

"so pretty like this-" he began babbling off compliments, not able to make a coherent sentence.

"mm- f-fuck, i'm so sorry about this, doll." before you could even question why he was apologizing, his fingers intertwined with strands of your hair as he began holding you down all the way to the base of his cock. you made a noise of surprise as you felt cum shoot into your mouth, the hot liquid shocking you for a moment before you attempted to swallow. he released his grip, letting you lift yourself up and you could see the mirth in his gaze as his cum leaked out your mouth and dribbled down your chin.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you wipe the cum off your face with the back of your hand.

"you're just too fucking good at it, sweetheart," his chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath.

gallagher pulled off his gloves with his teeth, keeping his gaze locked on yours in those few torturously long seconds it took.

he moved you so you were hovering over one of his thighs, arms resting on his shoulders as he lifted up your skirt.

"you're fucking soaked," he grinned as he expertly removed your panties, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

"yeah, yeahー just hurry up," you whined. his fingers gathered up your arousal and held it up to the dim light to see how it glimmeredー gallagher was going to be the death of you.

"c'monnn. . ." you were clenching over nothing, and he could see that.

"not even a please?"

"pleaseeeee," you pleaded, any self-respect gone in your desperate attempt to be filled up.

"just cause you asked so nicely," he slipped two fingers in easilyー he wasn't lying about you being soaked.

your rocked back and forth on the palm of his hand, drenching it with your slick as he rapidly thrust his fingers knuckles deep into your sopping cunt. every time he would curl his fingers and brush up against that certain gummy spot in you, you swore you saw stars.

"keep making those cute noises for me, yeah? s' fucking good for me, princess." he practically growled into your ear, the harsh noise making your walls clench around his fingers. he could probably get off on just the sight of you aloneー but he was adamant that he was going to come in you.

the building pressure in your stomach felt more intense than it had ever been, and you clawed at his arms as your mouth gaped open.

"m' gonnaー sirー" the name came out on accident, and if you weren't so close to climaxing you would've bothered to save yourself.

"sir?" his lips turned upward. "that's new."

"shut- haah-" your weak attempt to snap back was broken by you creaming around his fingers pathetically, trembling.

"that's itー being so good for me." he slowed down his pace until he eventually slid his fingers out, still connected to your pussy by thin and gleaming trails of your fluids. you slumped on him, jerking when you felt his dick rub up against your abused pussy.

"ya' got one more left in you, doll?"

you nod, not actually sure yourself. but you wouldn't pass up a moment have him inside of you.

he easily lifted you up, practically manhandling you as he laid you on the couch and angled himself on top of you. you practically sucked him in as his head tapped at your entrance.

"even this pussy of yours can't be patient," he didn't wait for your response as he abruptly plunged into your walls. it was so unexpected it had you digging crescents into his back, so deep you know it was going to leave scars. maybe they'll match with the ones that adorned his arms.

"wanna hear you call me sir again. say it." he nearly pulled all the way out, earning a cry of dejection out from you.

"sirー sir, please. . . i need more." you threw a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the noisesー which he instead replaced with his lips, swallowing all the sounds you made. the lewd squelches echoing throughout the room would've made you blush in any other situation.

gallagher always prided himself that he could make you go dumb and stupid on his big cockー but the fact you'll say whatever he wants? he's whipped.

"such a fuckin' slut for me, hmm? getting wet over my hands and never paying attention." he broke the kiss, immediately going back to praising and degrading you. you couldn't even process a single thing he was saying, but the mocking tone he used made your walls flutter.

"jus' for you," you rambled, chanting out little 'sir's with every heaving shove of his cock deeper into you. he wasn't above average in girth, but he could easily kiss your cervix and see a little tummy bulge that had him cooing.

when he pressed down on your lower stomach, the pleasure practically became unendurable. without warning and a choked moan that bordered a scream, you squirted, the liquid making it all the way to his abs, it slowly dripping down the crevices.

gallagher simply sped up, chasing after his own high as you squirmed at the overstimulation.

"s' too much! please, please-"

"a lil' bit more, pretty girl. ya' feel so good." he reassured you, burying his head in the nape of your neck.

he let out a long groan, your only warning that he was close. you saw his abs tense as he did one final push into you, his arms giving out as he collapsed on top of you.

minutes passed as the two of you calmed, until gallagher let out a little laugh.

"sir? hand kink?"

"i will bite your dick off."

i did not eat this up i fear

[starrseeker]

Sweet Smoke

Drug dealer!azriel. Modern AU. Fem! reader

Warnings: Drug useage. Drug dealer Azriel. Smut. Fingering. Oral F! Rec. praise kink. Dirty talk. slight degradation at the end. unprotected sex (wrap it up people). Explicit language. Not proofread.

A/N: I've had this idea for a while. Az just seems like he'd be a lowkey dealer tbh, atleast in my head. I haven't wrote smut in a while so hopefully it's not terrible. Please let me know if i missed any warnings, I did my best to include them all. Enjoy!

Why I had agreed to Tara bringing me to this party, I've got no fucking idea. She always knows how to get me to agree to shit last minute. The loud bass was beginning to hurt my ears as I tried squeezing past drunken idiots and people who really needed to find a room.

Finally I found a door that led outside. Stepping out onto the wooden porch, I pulled out the spliff I rolled before leaving the house. Exhaling the sweet smoke as I closed my eyes. Enjoying the break from people as I stood in the night breeze.

I'd lost track of where Tara went an hour ago. After a long hard day at work, I wasn't in the mood to babysit. I took another hit as I gazed up towards the stars. Night time was always my favorite. Especially when the moon was full and at its highest peak.

A cough startled me. I turned to my right, finding a man sitting on one of the lounge chairs. "Shit, sorry. Didn't realize someone else was out here." I lifted my shoe, ready to put out the ember on the sole. I hated leaving my ash on people's property. The velvety voice that spoke had me pausing,

"Nah, you're fine. I was getting ready to do the same. Care to join?" He offered as he had a fresh joint twirling in his hands. My eyes caught on the rugged scars that marred them. I averted my gaze quickly, holding up the burning substance between my fingers.

"I'll match you?" I offered. The stranger smirked at me before jutting his head towards the chair next to him. I took a puff as I walked over, settling in the chair. I handed him the spliff, his fingers just barely brushing against mine.

"Azriel" He said before inhaling a considerate drag. Glancing at me sideways.

"Y/N" I replied as I leaned my head back against the chair.

"Pretty name." He complimented as he handed it back. Smoke escaping his mouth as he spoke. The sight was one to behold. Even shrouded in the shadows, I could still make out dark soft curls. A glimpse of the tattoos that probably went up his arm whenever he reached over.

"You don't seem like you're interested in being here." He commented as I took another pull. I blew the smoke out before answering.

"Not particularly. Somehow my best friend managed to convince me though. No clue where she went though." I shrugged. Taking another drag before putting out the small roach that was left. I pocketed it, I hated wasting weed.

Azriel pulled out the joint that he stuck behind his ear. The flick of his lighter filling the air, the low glow of the flame lighting up his features. He was handsome. The light only giving his features an otherworldly glow. He exhaled once the joint was lit. It really shouldn't be so attractive for someone to smoke.

I took it from him when he offered. His eyes were hazy, heavy, red rimmed when he looked at me. The sight filled my mind with sinful thoughts before I shoved them away.

"So what brings you here then? Not many people come to a party just to sit outside by themselves." He chuckled at my question.

"Good thing I'm not technically alone then." He teased, i rolled my eyes playfully. He shrugged slightly. "Had a few deals here tonight. Parties are good money." My eyes widened slightly.

"So you're a dealer." I stated as I took a drag. My mind was already becoming clouded by the sweet smoke.

"That I am, princess." I could make out a faint grin tugging the corner of his mouth. His tongue darting out to wet his lips. Cotton mouth, it was the worst.

I handed him the joint. "I'm good on that." I muttered as I sank into the chair. I didn't want to get too faded. Especially with not knowing where Tara was. I'd probably be walking home.

My phone dinged from an incoming message. Speak of the devil.

"Heyyyyy. I'm going home with some hottie. Don't wait up."

I let out an annoyed huff. Of course she'd leave me here. I responded back with a simple okay before standing up. Brushing my pants from any lingering ash that may have fell on me.

"Well thanks for including me in your circle but I better get home. Gotta work in the morning." I was already dreading the walk back to my apartment. It was easily a twenty minute walk.

He raised a brow at me. "So soon huh? Need to take your friend home?"

"No. She actually left already. Something bout meeting a guy." I shrugged. "Anyways, I gotta go. Its a considerate walk."

He shook his head, standing. "Let me take you home. No reason for you to be walking in the dark at eleven at night. Just asking for problems." I opened my mouth to protest.

"Don't even. Lets go." He was already opening the door to walk back through the party. I let the argument die in my throat as I followed him. We didn't speak to anyone on the way out thankfully. Tara always took twenty minutes to tell everyone bye and I despised it. When I was ready to go, I was ready to go.

I was two steps behind him as we exited the house. He approached his car, opening the door for me. I slid into the leather seats as he shut the door. Leather and the lingering smell of his cologne hit me. It was oddly...comforting.

He slid into the driver seat before handing me his phone to type in my address. The engine turned over, the soft purr of it reverberating in my chest before he shifted into gear and drove off.

"So, you know my job. well my side business anyway." The side of his mouth twitched in a smirk. "What is it you do?"

My hands rubbed together, a nervous habit I had. "Uh, I work at a dealership. Parts specifically."

I could feel him look at me in the peripheral view. "Huh. Would not have guessed that one."

"Well if dealing is your side gig, whats your main one?" I shot back. Heat rushing to my cheeks for some odd reason.

"Tattooing." He stated plainly. I looked at him, my eyes roaming over him. Yeah, I guess I could see that.

He turned down my road. My apartment complex coming into view. A small part of me was disappointed our time had come to an end. Knowing my luck, I wouldn't see him again either.

He stopped infront of my building. "Thanks for the ride, and smoking with me." I said quietly before reaching for the door.

"Wait." His voice had me pausing. His hand was outstretched. "Let me give you my number." I debated it for a second before handing him my phone. He quickly typed before handing it back. "If you ever need grass, or maybe a smoke session, just send me a text. I'm free most of the time unless I've got an appointment set up."

I nodded before opening my door. "Thank you again, Azriel. I'll uh see you around." He gave me that smirk that made my heart flutter.

"Yes. you will."

I shut the door and watched him drive off. A small smile etched itself on my face and didn't leave even after I fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days had passed since the party. I still had yet to text Azriel. I wasn't sure what to even say. Writing and deleting messages over and over until I'd eventually give up.

Until one day when I came home from work. I'd set my bag down on the kitchen island with a sigh. Pulling my hair out from updo I threw it in, in a hurry to get to work. Walking into my room to grab my rolling tray when I realized I was out of flower.

I let out a frustrated groan. Rubbing my hands over my face in irritation before sucking in a breath. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, finding his contact and hitting text messages.

Anxiety swirled in my gut as I typed.

"Hey, it's Y/N. Mind helping a girl out with some flower? I got cash."

My thumb hovered over the send button. Contemplating on whether this was a good idea or not. I hit the blue button before I could back out. Throwing my phone on the bed before standing to grab a change of clothes. After the day I'd had, I wanted a hot shower.

I stepped out of the steaming bathroom when I was done. Already feeling ten times better than before. Throwing on a oversized tshirt and spandez shorts. I grabbed my phone, a message from 5 minutes ago showing on my screen.

"Be over in 20."

It was simple and straight to the point. My eyes widened suddenly. Shit. I had 15 minutes before he was here. I scurried around my apartment. Double checking that everything was tidy and neat. My hands were clammy as the nervousness came back tenfold. Why was I acting like a teenage girl seeing her crush? I heard my phone ding again.

"Here."

My thumbs moved with lightning speed.

"Unit 101. Door's open."

I let out a breath, hoping to calm my fraying nerves. A knock sounded on my door shortly after. "It's open!" I called from the kitchen, trying to find anything to busy myself.

I grabbed a glass of water before turning around. I damn near dropped it. He seemed taller than I remembered. He shrugged his leather jacket off. His black t-shirt fit snuggly on his chiseled body. The muscles in his arm seemed to make the fabric stretch more than it could handle. Dark jeans and boots to match. I was right when I wondered if he had tattoos up his arms. Swirls of dark ink contrasted against his golden brow skin. An eyebrow piercing I somehow missed adorned his left brow. He looked absolutely delicious.

His deep voice drew me out of my thoughts. "Hey."

"Hey." I replied. Watching as he took in my apartment. It wasn't much. Simple couch with the coffee table. Small tv mounted on the wall. Pictures hung sporadically.

"Nice place. Just you here?" He questioned as he met my stare. It felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs.

"Yeah. Not particuarly into the thought of sharing my space with someone." I shrugged, feigning calmness. "You want anything to drink? I got water, tea, coffee, liqour?"

"Water's fine. Thanks." Azriel shifted on his feet before walking into the kitchen with me. Standing on the opposite side of the island, his toned forearms leaning against the surface.

I slid the glass over to him, ice clinking against the sides.

"So, how much are you wanting?" Azriel asked after taking a sip. I'd almost forgotten why he was here til then.

"Oh. An eigth would be fine. I can normally stretch it two weeks unless i have a terrible day." I reached for my purse, grabbing my wallet.

"Don't worry about it." He told me as he pulled a bag out of his pocket. "Consider it a first time buyer discount." That damned smirk pulled on his lips as he looked at me.

My brow furrowed slightly. "You sure?" It seemed wrong to not pay him, especially after he gave me a ride home a few nights ago. His shoiulders lifted into a shrug.

"Yeah. As long as you're willing to indulge me in a smoke session?" Azriel flashed me a smile then. My knees almost gave out right then and there.

"Oh, yeah. I can do that." A smile of my own appeared. I tilted my head towards the back patio door. "Go ahead. I'll grab my rolling tray and be right out." I scurried to my room. My mind racing with so many questions and thoughts. Was this a good idea?

The night air eased some of my nerves as I stepped out on the patio. Setting the tray down on the small table I had before lighting the citrus candle in the center.

Azriel grabbed the tray off, setting it in his lap as he started grinding flower up. I couldn't help but watch. His fingers prepping the paper before spreading out the flower. The motion was hotter than it should be. He brought it up to his mouth, darting his tongue along the seam. His eyes met mine as he did so and I thought my heart would stop right there.

I averted my gaze quickly, hoping the shadows hid the blush that covered my cheeks. Heat building in my lower gut. I heard the flick of the lighter once, twice before the flame came to life. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him sealing the seam.

"You're awfully quiet over there." His voice startled me slightly.

"Just thinking is all. I get into my head a lot." The air between us felt tense. Charged with something I couldn't put my finger on.

He sparked the joint to life. That musky sweet smoke hitting my nose. He took a drag before passing it to me. Our fingers brushed as I took it from him. The action making that heat return to me.

"Bad day at work?" I could feel his eyes on me as he asked. Taking a couple drags before nodding my head. Bad didn't even cover it. I passed the rolled flower back to him.

"That's an understatement. Sometimes I wish I'd never gone into the auto industry. Too many entitled assholes, people love to argue with me over things cause I'm a woman so that immediatley make me incompetant." A scoff left me at the memory of today. An older gentleman wanted to prove I was wrong until my manager had stepped in. The customer had quickly shut up when he realized I was right.

Azriel let out a hum of agreement. "Men love to tear a woman down whenever they can. I see it far too often to one of the girls at the tattoo shop. Most of the time we throw them out." Smoke escaped with each word he spoke.

Those amber eyes met mine then. "If I was your manager though, I probably would've socked the guy in his mouth."

His confession made me flush. He reached over to hand me the joint once again. My mind was already beginning to feel it, my eyelids becoming heavy and tingling. My breath caught when his touch lingered on my fingers for an extra second. His eyes never once straying from me. I took two puffs to calm down my erratic heart rate. The substance was almost burnt to the filter. I handed it back to him.

He used the ashtray to put it out. Leaving it on the side of the glass bowl. We sat in silence for a moment. Enjoying the calmness of the night as the candle casted a warm glow over us.

"Y/N?" He broke the silence.

"Hmm?" My eyes were heavy, and my mind was fuzzy.

"Mind if I go in and grab my water?" I turned my head to gaze at him.

"No, actually I'll go with you to get mine too."

We stood from the chairs. I blew the candle out before walking in with him. Suddenly feeling exposed in my shirt and shorts as I walked in front of him. Almost as if I could feel his eyes roaming over me.

The low lighting of the kitchen caught on his eyebrow piercing, catching my attention. He eyed me over the rim of his glass before taking a sip. I felt hot, extremely hot. Maybe it was the grass. Yeah It had to have been the grass. Definitely not the way his eyes roamed over my bare skin.

I took a sip of my water. The liquid doing nothing to satiate the heat building under my skin. I watched his adams apple move as he swallowed. Wondering how it would feel to skim my lips over it. Nipping at that golden skin with my teeth.

"See something you like Princess?" His eyes held amusement, catching me staring at him. My cheeks reddened at the pet name he'd used before.

"Oh I- uh." I stammered, unsure of what to say.

He chuckled lowly at my stumbling. "You know, I spent all four days after the party wondering when you'd grace me with a message." His bloodshot amber eyes met mine. Darkening when he saw the redness of my cheeks. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. I couldn't stop myself from looking. Wondering how that tongue would move against me.

"Imagine my delight when you needed me. Though I can't lie, I was hoping it was for more than tree." He stepped around the island, coming up behind me. His hands grasped the edge of the island on either side of me, caging me in. I could feel the heat of him on my back. The hair on my neck standing up when his warm breath hit my skin.

"Tell me princess," His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, sending a chill down through my spine. "Is that all you wanted? Just some flower?"

I couldn't control the way my body instinctively leaned into him. My back hitting his chest. My eyes fluttering at the low octave of his voice. Desire building low in my belly.

"Need an answer darling." His voice was a hum as he leaned in closer. I could feel the ghost of his lips along the side of my neck.

"No." The word was quieter than I intended. I was almost afraid he didn't hear me.

"No what?" Azriel questioned, his right hand coming to rest on my hip.

"No, I didn't just want flower." His hand snaked to my stomach, pulling me flush against him. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, craning my head to the side for him.

"Thank fuck." Azriel placed a featherlight kiss on the side of my neck. The feeling sent sparks over the sensitive skin. His free hand came up to my neck, gently grasping it. He tilted my head back to look at him. My back slightly arching from the position. Those amber eyes seared right through me.

"Cause I've been thinking about all the things I could do to this pretty body since the party." The words dripped with pure sin. The heat in his eyes only serving his point. My thighs clenched together to satiate my growing need.

"That what you want princess? Want me to worship this body? Have you screaming and writhing in pleasure?” Wetness pooled between my thighs at his words. Images flashing in my mind of him being on top of me, back muscles flexing with each thrust.

My response was breathy, needy. I didn’t even hesitate with my answer. “Yes.”

He twirled me around quickly. My lower back against the edge of the counter. He pressed himself against me, one of his hands tangling into my hair. The other reached down to grip my backside as he captured my lips with his in a hungry kiss.

His hard cock pressing against my inner thigh as his tongue swiped my bottom lip. A silent request that I accepted when my tongue tangled with his. His lips dominating mine. The kiss was harsh, dominating, filled with hot desire. A muffled moan left me at the taste of him. Smoke, mint and something I couldn’t place. It was intoxicating.

He smirked against my lips as he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth. “You’ll be begging for mercy when I’m done with you sweetheart.” There was a dark promise in those words.

He untangled his hand from my hair before reaching down. Lifting me effortlessly in his arms before crashing his mouth onto mine again. I could feel the stickiness of my panties at this angle. The pure need that coursed through my veins.

He walked us to my room, kissing down my neck with each step. I was thankful that I didn’t have roommates in that moment. Azriel laid me on the plush surface before climbing over me. His pupils blown wide with primal desire, I’m sure mine mimicked his.

His hands found their way under my t-shirt, the ridges of his scars giving me goosebumps. He touch was gentle, caressing. A drastic change to the way he was just kissing me. Azriel let out a groan as he palmed my breast, realizing I wasn’t wearing a bra. His thumb skimmed over my hard nipple.

“No bra? Were you planning for this princess?” Azriel’s voice was gravelly, lust filled as he stared down at me. His other hand pushed my shirt up, up, up until my chest was bared to him. A low growl reverberated in his chest as his eyes roamed over me.

“Look at you.” He praised as he took both of my tits in his palms. Kneading them with a possessive grip. “All of this just for me.” He muttered, as if he wasn’t going to let another man touch me after this.

He leaned down, taking my right nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicking and swirling. “Azriel” I gasped when his teeth grazed the sensitive bud. My back arching off the bed, a silent plea for more. A deep chuckle left him before letting me go with a small popping sound.

“Oh I’m just getting started baby.” I had no doubt about that as he turned his attention to my other breast. His hand kneading the one he’d already teased. I could feel him leaving bruising marks with his mouth. Biting and sucking harshly. Claiming me with his mouth.

“My god, I could stay like this all day.” He groaned when he sat back to admire his work. Sure enough, hickies littered my chest. Different sizes and colors that told anyone who’d see that I was clearly taken, even if only for the night. The sight only made my thighs clench together again.

He pulled my shirt over my head, throwing it to somewhere in my room. He placed teasing soft kisses down my sternum, my belly, to the curve of my hips. Azriel’s teeth scraped along the bone that made a whimper escape my lips.

I tangled a hand into his hair. The dark strands felt like silk between my fingers. He let out a grunt of approval when I tugged gently. His teeth biting, actually biting, my hip when I did so. The action made me gasp from the harshness.

I could feel his hot breath hit my skin in a silent laugh. His hands toyed with the waist band of my shorts before slowly, so slowly dragging the spandex down my legs. Taunting, toying with me. Building the anticipation of what he’d do next.

Azriel’s hands rubbed up and down the outside of my thighs before spreading them. My lace black panties covering my drenched pussy. He swiped a teasing finger up my clothed core. “Fuck. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already drenched baby.” He muttered as he situated himself between my thighs, throwing a leg over each shoulder. His breath hitting my core as he looked up at me.

“What do you want?” The pad of his thumb replaced his finger, just barely pressing down on my clit as he waited for my answer. The pressure made my breath hitch. My hips bucking upwards. More, I needed more.

“I need words, babygirl. Otherwise I’ll stop.” He taunted. His thumb slowly retreating.

“You. I need you.” I panted out. My body felt like an inferno, aching for release at this point.

“Be specific. What part of me do you want?” He was drawing this out. Enjoying the fact he was making me wait for it.

“Your tongue. Azriel, please.” The words were a needy whine as his thumb pressed down on my clit again. Harder than before. The pressure was just enough to give me slight relief but that’s all he did.

“Yeah? Want me to eat this pussy? Make you come on my tongue over and over?” His filthy words only made the wetness worse. It was almost uncomfortable.

“Please!” I cried before I heard lace ripping. I couldn’t find myself to care about the fact those were my favorite panties.

“Who am I to deny you after you beg so prettily.” Azriel’s mouth descended on me before I could reply. His tongue flattening out to lick a stripe up my pussy. Flicking my clit perfectly that had my eyes rolling back. The hand in his hair tightening as he ate me like a man starved.

Those large hands holding my hips down. Not letting me escape from his brutal mouth. His tongue flicking and sucking on my clit. Teeth gently scraping against the bud that made a strained cry leave me. My vision clouded by stars as he drove me to my orgasm. “Azriel. Oh god. Just like that. Don’t stop.” I begged under him.

He pulled back for a moment. My juices glistening on his chin as he stared up at me. One of his hands released me, only to slip a finger into my pussy. The intrusion made me free hand grip the sheets. The ridges of his scars making it feel heavenly. “Oh trust me darling. Your pussy tastes so sweet, I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted.”

He dove back in. His tongue ten times more brutal than before. His finger plunging in and out of my tight hole before adding a second. I cried out as I raised my hips. Chasing that sweet release that threatened to snap in my belly. “Az- oh god…” the squelching sound of my pussy echoed in the room, only adding to my desire.

“No God here baby. Just me.” His mouth curved into a wicked grin as he watched me writhe beneath him. “Now be a good little girl and cum for me. I want your sweet juices on my tongue.” He sucked my clit between his teeth, his fingers curling in a come here motion. It was too much. “Azriel!” My back bowed off the bed as my orgasm hit me. Hot, white pleasure blinded me as he licked me through my release. My thighs were clamped around his head in an effort to make him stop but he didn’t care. Not until he lapped up every last drop of me, even licking me off of his fingers as he stared down at me. The sight was erotic.

“So good for me baby. Think you can give me one?” He pulled his shirt off. My eyes greedily took in his physique. The tattoos on his arms came up over his broad shoulders, dipping down onto his chiseled chest. Abs that I so badly wanted to run my tongue over. With harsh b lines that dipped beneath his jeans. I could feel myself salivating at the sight. I nodded eagerly at his question.

He gripped my chin between his index finger and thumb. His eyes sharp, dark with so many emotions. “Words, Princess. I wanna hear you.”

“Yes.” I whispered. Feeling like putty in his hands.

“Good girl. Now lay back and let me take care of you like I promised.”

I watched as he undid the button of his jeans. Anticipation clawing at my chest as I watched his every movement. One thing I’m learning about Azriel? He loved to take his time. Draw out every moment that he could, leaving me to want for more.

He stood up to kick off his jeans and boxers. His hard cock springing up to his belly button. My tongue darted out, licking my lips as I took him in. He was long, and girthy. The tip was an angry red as precum was beginning to build. I so badly wanted to taste him. Wanted to gag on him til I couldn’t breathe.

He must’ve seen the look in my eye. “As much as I’d love to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock,” he stalked forward to the bed, lowering himself on top of me. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around me.” My god where did this filthy mouth come from?

I spread my legs to welcome him. His chest rubbing against my hard sensitive nipples, sending a ripple of pleasure through me. His breath fanned across my face as he stared down at me. His cock pressed against my dripping pussy. My hole clenching around nothing as I waited.

“You sure you want this?” His tone had turned softer, his gaze searching mine for a hint of hesitation.

“Yes. Please Az. Wanna feel you.” His eyes flickered between mine for a moment, but when he didn’t find any hesitation that damn smirk came back. He reached between us, lining himself up with me.

“Good, cause I really don’t wanna go another minute without feeling this pussy.” With that, he plunged into me. The sudden action make my head fall back against the bed as a cry left me. The stretch of him was a little painful but nothing compared to the pure pleasure I was feeling.

My walls tightened around him, pulling a groan from him. “Princess, you keep squeezing me like that?” He panted for a moment. “I’m not going to be able to last.” He started moving then.

His cock dragging against my gummy walls before thrusting back in. He set a harsh pace. Hitting deep inside of me to that sweet spot that made me see stars. One of my hands tangled into his hair again, the other holding onto his shoulder.

“Fuck…” I whimpered as he angled his hips just right. Hitting the wall of my cervix.

“Yeah? Feels so good doesn’t it baby. God, you’re so fucking tight. Just clenching around that cock.” I cried out at his words, my pussy clamping down around him. Causing him to release a guttural groan.

That coil in my belly became tighter and tighter with each thrust. My eyes rolling back as i lost myself in him, his touch. “Eyes on me Princess. Wanna watch you lose yourself on my cock.” My eyes snapped to his. My vision fuzzy as I stared up at him.

He placed a hand on my neck, gently holding me in place. The action sent a thrill through me, he must’ve seen the look in my eye.

“You like this?” The tips of his fingers squeezed the sides of my throat. Cutting off my air just slightly, my body clamped around him in response. “Yeah, you like that. Naughty little thing aren’t you?” His thrusts were becoming harder and harder. I was so, so close.

“God I can feel you tightening around me. You gonna cum princess? Gonna make a mess all over my cock?” He grinned down at me, the look in his eye was absolutely feral. “Come on sweetness, cum for me. Be a good girl.”

The hand that wasn’t on my throat reached down, splaying across my lower stomach before pressing down. Adding pressure to where his cock slid in and out effortlessly. His thrusts came faster, driving me home.

“Azriel!” My scream echoed in the room, my head falling back as my mouth opened in a silent cry. My eyes rolling back as my orgasm rolled through me. Pressure in my lower abdomen built uncomfortably.

“God damn, look at you. Squirting all over me. Sucking my cock back in like a needy little slut.” His voice was rough, gravelly as his thrusts became needy. Chasing his own release.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum princess.” He groaned right before his body tensed. His muscles growing taught as he let out the most sinful moan I’d ever heard. His hot seed spilling into me as he kept dragging his cock against my walls, prolonging our pleasure.

Our heavy pants were the only sound for a while. Both of us too out of it to speak as we came down from the intense high.

He leaned down to press a kiss against my forehead. “You did so good for me.” He whispered against my skin. A tired smile tugged at my lips.

He slowly pulled out, wincing slightly from the loss of him. He laid next to me, pulling against his chest. I leaned my forehead against him, savoring the soft moment.

“We’ll have to do that again sometime.” My voice was raspy from over exertion. He chuckled before tilting my head back to look at him.

“Oh we’re definitely doing that again Princess. I just need a break.” His eyes gleamed with the promise that he wasn’t done with me just yet. “I still wanna feel those pretty lips around my cock.”

After he caught his breath, he ravished me until the sun peaked over the horizon. There was absolutely no way I was going into work now.

[ohkkotsuu]

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒! utahime iori.

ৎ୭ PAIRING: utahime iori x f!reader (she/her pronouns, afab anatomy)

ৎ୭ ABOUT: you and your boyfriend, satoru gojo, have been fighting for a while now. he has been paying too much attention to other girls, breaking your heart and ignoring your needs. when it gets back to utahime, she sees the opportunity to help you, like a good veteran.

ৎ୭ CW/TW: [ NSFW ]. college au/no curses au, cheating (reader cheats on satoru, implications he cheated too), reader is multi, shoko is a bad friend to satoru here i think?? she and utahime talk about fucking you. geto flirted with you (off-screen). utahime is head over heels for you without even noticing. tbh gojo is a bit of a jerk here, but everyone acts like jerk, ngl. utahime was originally going to do it out of petty revenge but she really started to like you. there's a gay vibe between shoko and utahime (they joke about a three way with you), and between gojo and geto. everyone is kinda multi implied. everyone is on college (around 21-26)! reader is a sophomore, gojo is a junior, utahime is a senior. honorary mentions: nanami is a freshman, geto is a junior, shoko is a junior. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I'M NOT A GOOD SMUT WRITER, I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS — this is my first time writing anything along these lines (smut) im sweating buckets, not proofread

PORN WITHOUT MUCH PLOT; fingering, facesitting, 69, mentions of previous sex (among reader and gojo), exhibitionism, possessive behavior (utahime towards reader), praise/worship kink, getting caught, a bit of cuckolding?? nicknames (pretty, darling, princess, lovely, angel).

＃TAGGING: @maisieisbae • thanks for your support! <3

UTAHIME was sure that living with satoru gojo was a kind of divine penance. payment for crimes she committed in a past life. there is no other explanation for how terrible it is to have to deal with a man like him.

and it only got worse when satoru gojo, the worst man she's ever known, got a new girlfriend. you. and oh, you. you were perfect — you are perfect, but you're gojo's. he doesn't let anyone forget, and that makes utahime angrier than any of his lame jokes.

because he could never do you justice.

the first time utahime saw you, she reluctantly found herself at a party she didn't even wanted to attend. that's what she gets for betting against shoko on poker night (she always wins, after all). however, she made the most of the situation by settling into a cozy corner, sipping on her drink while chatting with shoko about anything on mind. exams, people being jerks, the hot girl shoko wants to call, — and utahime's motivational support was important, of course — anything, really.

from her secluded spot, she couldn't help but observe her younger peers recklessly flirting, which added to her growing disdain for the party. she just wanted to de-stress from exam week, but the environment only added to her headache. she was ready to punch any idiot if they made a move on her or her friend. prying eyes and drunken men quickly turned away from the woman's aggressive gaze, making shoko laugh.

as she scanned the room, utahime noticed a familiar face — geto, one of the popular idiots (as she sweetly called them), talking to a group of girls. his flirtatious attitude is usual, what is unusual to see him without his equally well-liked best friend. that damn satoru gojo. utahime couldn't help but feel curious about why he was alone this time. it was strange not to see the partners in crime together.

“is gojo fuckin’ a girl on the second floor or something?” she asks curiously, making shoko raise an eyebrow. “the trash there is all alone.”

shoko giggles, snatching utahime's drink from her hand, earning some protests of her, to take a sip. the alcohol burns in her throat, but she loves anything that burns after all. she stares at her friend and shakes her head no.

“haven't you heard? satoru got a new girlfriend. real cutie.” utahime finds herself interested, tilting her head to encourage her friend to continue. and speaking the truth this time. “okay, you got me. she's hot. like, I mean it. not going to lie, got me really jealous. she's just my type.”

“you got any pictures?”

while shoko searches which coat pocket her cell phone is in (she can never find it at first try), utahime watches who enters through the door. she scowls, rolling her eyes. speak of the devil — satoru gojo himself, but he's not alone. utahime doesn't expect much as he pulls whoever it is along with him to join the party, heading to the dance floor.

gojo always has a girl, or more than one, around him. he is like a light bulb, effortlessly bringing the moths to him. be a girlfriend, fling, sneaky links. it is never lasting. he's the kind of asshole who won't settle for just one girl, and ends up breaking the hearts of several and just disappearing. sometimes he and the other trash (geto) seem to forget they're in public, and act like two hormonal assholes with those girls.

honestly, utahime doesn't know why so many girls find them attractive. what's so special about them? for her, they're cute at best. physical appearance does not make up for the fuckboy attitude. instead of settling down for guys who would care for them, take them on dates — like that freshman, nanami, the kind blonde —, they choose to run after whoever will break their hearts after a good fuck.

then, she sees you. oh, you— good lord. utahime can't help but stare at every step you take, arm in arm with your boyfriend, with him grinning from ear to ear as he guides you through the party. you are the most beautiful girl she has ever seen. with a sweet smile, well-done makeup, in a tight party dress — holy fucking crist. she doesn't even realize that her jaw has dropped or that she's in a trance until shoko nudges her.

“told you.” she has a smirk on her face, and utahime can feel her face heating up in jealousy. “pretty, isn't she?”

“pretty is an understatement. c'mon. what is she doing with a stupid fuck like gojo, anyway? damn, that dress. i can see her thighs.” iori watches you from afar, as your boyfriend asks drinks for the two of you. “how long have they been together?”

shoko thinks for a moment, rummaging through her phone. utahime peeks over her shoulder and she can see that she is searching for your instagram page.

“two months, i think?” shoko laughs when her friend let out an impressed whistle. “It's a new record for satoru, I know, but damn. a girl like that, I would also be with for long. check her insta.”

utahime blames the redness of her cheeks on alcohol. while shoko shows her your page full of selfies, she has to restrain herself from picking up her cell phone and immediately following you. there are so many pictures — pictures of you in baggy pajamas, chilling at home with your boyfriend. bikini photos at the beach or pool. a photo at night, in the stars. and you're so, so pretty in all of them. god damn satoru gojo. always getting the best out of the best.

“don't even look at me with that face, I haven't tasted her, and I won't.” shoko says with a pout. utahime's eyes are still focused on her phone — she's liking a picture of you in a bikini, in what seems to be satoru's house for a pool party.

“what do you mean?”

the music at the party background seems irrelevant. after seeing you, utahime can only hear her own heart hammering in her chest. goddamit, she thinks. im acting like the trash.

“y’know, satoru is always sharing his girls with suguru. they never invite me, though, those assholes.” she says without much resentment, shrugging. “I had asked to go along this time, only that suguru told me that he asked to have her too, and satoru wouldn't let him.”

“you're kidding.” utahime says, shocked. that can't be true. shoko laughs.

“I know, right? they share everything. but i think satoru really likes this one. he doesn't want to leave anything to geto. or me.”

utahime turns her head to see you again. the beautiful girlfriend of satoru gojo. who's actually being ignored as mentioned jerk is paying more attention to his phone than to his girlfriend. utahime feels anger burning inside of her. if she had a girlfriend like you nothing could hold her attention.

“you wanna hit it? i think she's very faithful, so you might wanna avoid being direct.”

“oh, please, shoko.” utahime crosses her arms. “she's that idiot's girlfriend. she will be unhappy with him, look at her face, she's unhappy already. every unhappy woman can use a helping hand, can't she?” both of them smirk at that. “besides, he seems to be getting tired of her already. two months is too much for him. the biggest commitment gojo ever made was a tiny tattoo or something.”

shoko laughs at that. “true, true. why don't you invite her over? i have her number.” she says in a sing-song voice, but utahime shakes her head no.

“i have a better idea, but thanks.”

ieiri just shrugs and smiles at her. the partners on crime can be terrible, but these two know how to misbehave too.

“any chance you invite me, too? three is much better than two, huh?” utahime gives her a light push as a joke, and they both laugh. she looks at you again, smirking slightly, more to herself than to anyone else.

“nah. veterans first.”

utahime's plan actually starts with a simple motive: petty revenge. gojo is the worst of all juniors — since she was a sophomore and he was a freshman, she had no peace. unfortunately, the coming of shoko on her life brought the coming of this imbecile along with her.

there were always reasons for satoru's jokes or mockings. he had this constant joking tone, but she understood how cruel he could be. always bragging about his perfect grades, his good results in sports, how he managed to be captain of the debate club before she could, and of course, bragging about how he could get good pussy without lifting a finger. he had no respect for seniors (or any authority figure, frankly), especially utahime. so teaching him a lesson was the only necessary way to sent a message.

It started in a cliche but simple way. you were at the library, having trouble looking up a stupidly specific book — needed in a research essay required by one of your classes. the library index looked more disorganized than anything, although it's function is exactly the opposite.

it would take half of an afternoon just to find the research materials, and who knows how long to get everything you needed for the essay. not to mention sitting down and writing it all down.

“do you need help?” you hear a voice calling from behind you. you turn on your heels to see a woman. you recognize her. is that woman who is always with shoko, satoru's friend.

“that would be lovely, thanks.” you smile, and she moves close to you to offer assistance. “you're a senior, right? utahime? thanks for the help.”

she nods. god, you're so sweet, she thinks. satoru doesn't deserve you. you introduce yourself quickly and she smiles at you. after a good few minutes of searching and casual conversation, she pokes your shoulder.

“so, this is what you're looking for?” she hands you a heavy book.

“yes! that's it! oh, thank you. you just saved my life on this essay.” she giggles, giving you a reassuring nod.

“hey, no worries. that subject was hell when I was a sophomore. but im good at it now.” she puts her hands on her hips. “are you having difficulties? I can be your tutor, no problem. you don't even have to pay me. courtesy to a friend of shoko's.”

your smile widens, and iori swears her heart skips a beat. in fact, the idea was perfect. satoru and you have been fighting over the last few weeks with the attention he's been giving to random girls (usually in miniskirts). shoko is busy always studying or cheating, and geto — well, he's geto. satoru's best friend who will always side with gojo. so things have been lonely around your house.

plus you know utahime is one of the best in her class. a veteran's help that fell for you at the right time, like a gift from heaven.

“i would be very happy about it, actually. thank you so much! wait, take my number. let's schedule it on days when you're free, okay?”

“uh-huh. perfect.” utahime feels herself smiling like a fool while you exchange phone numbers.

it was the beginning. the preparation of the land. now utahime had to move on to the next part.

tutoring took place every wednesday night. a day you originally planned to spend with satoru at the beginning of your relationship, full of dates and romantic promises — until he starts to get tired. being late for dates, not showing up to them, being seen or photographed at some party instead. then wednesdays nights as a couple just stopped happening. the frequency was decreasing until it stopped completely. you don't even want to see satoru's face after your last fight. he's been acting like a jealous asshole, freaking out at anyone who talks to you. when you try to do the same, he acts like you're insane.

this is one of the concerns you share with utahime. it's been almost five weeks since she's been helping you with the subject — she was the first person you told about your straight A on the essay —, and you have become close. she carries your stuff sometimes, walks you around campus. you text each other late into the night, laughing over silly cat videos or talking about preferences. she's not just a tutor or a senior, she's your friend.

she is a much better listener than satoru. especially in recent times. he rarely visits your apartment now, and you're giving him the cold shoulder. you even started avoiding geto, not wanting to hear through him how your boyfriend is sorry and he is going to change or whatever mess he makes up this time. utahime is the first one you share everything with now. she is happy for her achievements, celebrates with you for them. she's always checking up on you — if you are drinking water, resting. if you can't sleep, she calls you during the night and you laugh until you pass out from tiredness. she makes your anxiety and sadness go away when she's around.

satoru knew how to tolerate, utahime knew how to listen. an important and crucial difference: while moving away from your boyfriend, you grew closer to utahime. every little message or request to do something, even if it was drinking at a random bar, warmed your heart. it was always crowded at first, with even a few freshmen. but then, she reduced the group, and now it's customary for just the two of you to go out.

when you're together, utahime doesn't pay attention to anything else. nobody else. no girl in a miniskirt attracts her attention. her cell phone could beep for minutes and she wouldn't even spare it a glance when you're in the same room as her. she is kind, respects your limits, does her best to help you with everything and is happy when you are happy.

and honestly, she's beautiful. you can't take her gaze away even when you should be paying attention to what she says, not her appearance. she is wearing dark jeans, a black tank top that shows a lot of skin. so simple yet so elegant. her hair is tied in a low ponytail, and she's sitting by your side on your couch, pointing to something at your notebook screen.

she's saying something, but your brain can't quite process the words. the way her lips move is kind of hypnotic.

“and here, you have—” she snaps her fingers in front of you with a smile. “are you listening, angel?”

petnames became a thing. you let her call you that a few times and now, utahime seems addicted to it, even though she doesn't do it in public.

“yeah, no, you got me, sorry. can you repeat that?” she shrugs. normally, she would be irritated by someone who doesn't listen to a tutoring session. but with you?

iori has all the patience in the world and then some more when it's about you.

“i think we could use a break anyway. five minutes and we start again, all right?” you nod as she leans in to kiss your cheek, like she usually do to reward you for a good answer.

as utahime gets up to fetch some water from the kitchen, you start thinking about your relationship with her. the word sounds more serious, something beyond friendship, but there's nothing more fit to it. you realize that you and she are definitely getting closer than usual friends. you feel comfortable in her presence and enjoy her company, and she clearly enjoys yours. in fact, you have noticed that your senior really likes closeness and physical contact, and it's interesting how much you do too. you wonder: this is just a coincidence or if it's a sign of something more?

satoru, always appearing when uninvited even in thought, flashes through your mind. in the beginning of your relationship, he was as lovely as utahime, but things cooled down over time. you start to compare your current relationship with utahime to your past relationship with satoru. you realize that while things may have started out strong with satoru, the passion eventually fizzled out. with utahime, however, you feel a deeper connection that continues to grow with each passing day. could this be something more than friendship?

the guilty of thinking about this when your boyfriend is away consumes your insides. but there's this sparkling though, that question whose answer you so ardently want: what would utahime be like as your girlfriend?

“hey.” she calls, moving closer to you. her glass of water was left on the table on your living room. “you ok? what's on your mind?”

she's so sweet. so sweet and worried all the time, trying to make you comfortable and happy. she would make an wonderful girlfriend.

“yes.” you have to shake that though. what are you thinking? this is utahime, your kind senior. and you have a boyfriend. “just— got stuff on my mind.”

“about you and gojo?” she sits down beside you, worried, watching you nod. “that asshole doesn't return your calls, does he?”

you're never imagining the contempt in her voice. for some reason, utahime really doesn't like satoru. but it's understandable. the way he's been acting lately, doubts about your relationship with him are sprouting like fruit on a tree.

you feel tears well up in your eyes. utahime let out a gasp, worried as hell now. where is the satoru who would bring you flowers and spend hours talking to you when you can't sleep? could he really have just gotten sick of you? got bored?

that's what everyone said it would happen. satoru is not a one woman man, he never was. and judging by the look of things, he never will be. your relationship has just gone downhill steadily over the last few weeks. if you had someone like utahime, none of this would be happening.

“hey.” she calls you gently, whispering your name. utahime puts a hand on your face, tilting your head to look at her. her thumb is wiping away your tears. “don't cry. please. that jerk doesn't deserve you, he doesn't deserve your tears. you could do so much better. you only deserve the better.”

there is an odd consensus that you sense when you look into her eyes. something you two are thinking about. the best is not him.

you're trying to get some words out, to figure what to do next— when utahime leans in, looking you on the eye. her voice is a gentle z soft whisper you thought you wouldn't hear from anyone else. your heart skips a beat.

“can i kiss you?” there's so much despair. so much desire to have you in her voice, like you've never heard from anyone else. something that goes beyond a passing lust or a quickly acquired love.

instead of saying anything, you put your hands on her face, pulling iori close. you smash your lips against hers, letting out a soft sigh against her mouth because of how good it feels. she kisses calmly, a controlled and subtle desire — that's still there, but there is no rush.

there is no explanation for how good this moment is. when you pull apart, she looks at you. what do you whisper sends shivers down her spine.

“again.” her eyes widen. “kiss me again, utahime. and don't stop.”

she leans in, practically smirking against your lips. “whatever you wish, princess.” and she does exactly as you told her.

even though utahime is in no hurry, she gets bolder with every brush of lips. her hands wander around your body and settle on your waist. she pushes her tongue against yours out of the simple desire to be that close to you. it's not a rush. there's desire there, but it's more than that, more than just a passing desire for a good fuck. more than you ever felt coming from satoru.

oh, lord. your boyfriend is travelling and you're here. it's late at night and you're making out with utahime on the couch in your apartment, moaning against her mouth because how good it feels when she sucks your tongue, how she grabs your waist.

iori leans back again, licking her lips — a bit coated with your saliva and hers. the way she looks at you, with that much adoration on her eyes...it makes you forget about gojo in a heartbeat.

“wanna take this to the room, pretty?” and you never said yes so fast in your life.

just once. just this once, just tonight, you promise yourself. what a good liar.

not even you can blame withdrawal on the lewd way your body reacts to hers. utahime undresses you gently, laying you down in bed. the lights on, the curtains drawn, blotting out the sky outside and leaving just you and her. not even the stars will be a witness to it. no other people, no doubts, just you and utahime. the door was left slightly ajar, and she is enjoying each new inch of skin she sees, layer after layer of fabric being leisurely removed. she'll dedicate this whole night just for you, and every other night you want her.

you pull her hair tie, watching the strands coming lose and letting her hair down. she chuckles as she leans down to kiss you again. gentle, soft pecks. you are being treated like glass, like the most precious thing on her life — and it's making you really, really wet.

ever since satoru simply disappeared from the map and only left a message saying he was going to travel, fulfilling your desires all on your own has been an arduous task. she's undoing the clasp of your bra, admiring how your body looks in underwear. better than her sexiest dreams.

“black lingerie, lovely?” you blush and nod, helping her get rid of the rest of your clothes and panties. “i love it.” she whispers, lips pressed against yours, eyes wandering down your body. “help me undress, pretty? it's not fair if you're the only one naked, although I really enjoy the view.”

she chuckles sweetly, seeing your hands move to help her out her crop top, while she's undoing the buttons on her jeans.

“utahime, you're so pretty.” you whisper is like something heaven-sent, just for her.

“am i? you're the pretty one here darling.” utahime wants to give herself a self-control medal for going so long without kissing you. and now that you're naked underneath her, she wants nothing else than to touch you.

but she forces herself to be patient until you two are naked. she gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, whispering a “good girl” as her hands move to cup your breasts. the sensation is quite new, her fingers twisting and pulling your nipples, making moans erupt from you. your tits were never the focus on any previous sex you had.

“mm— ah, utahime, this is...”

“no one played with your nipples before? you seem quite sensitive here.” she pulls one nipple slightly, delighting in the way you moan.

god, you're so pretty she can't decide where to touch first. you're laying down on the mattress, with her sat and settled between your legs. the way you look at her makes her whole body shiver, and utahime bites down her lip as her eyes and one of her hands wander down. her fingertips graze over your stomach, lower abdomen, and—

“is this okay?” she whispers, and you look at her, surprised. “we can stop if you want. we can always stop.” she's so sweet, looking you in the eyes, searching for any sign you're uncomfortable.

but you've never been so comfortable and worked up, really. you nod, looking at her hands.

“yeah. yeah, please— keep going.”

“okay, pretty.” her hand moves down, index finger sliding among your folds, relishing in the wet sound. that gets a moan out of you and a smirk out of iori. “you're so wet. is this all for me, angel?”

“mmm.” you nod, biting down your lip and yelping when she pinches your nipple.

“don’t hide your noises. I'll start touching you now, okay?”

when she gets our approval, her fingers tease you, opening your cunt for a better view. utahime licks down her lips — for weeks now she has been wondering what it tastes like. but patience. she can't have everything in one night, if she wants you wholeheartedly.

she needs to make you want more. and that's exactly what she does, thumb playing with your clit and her other hand giving some special treatment to your breasts. as she ordered, your mouth falls open, letting out lewd noises. it's like you're doused in gasoline and utahime is a spark. her touch sends flames throughout your body.

she gets you panting in seconds, and stops. utahime chuckles meanly at your whines of complaint. “relax, princess.” she instructs, raising her hand to lick of your juices from her fingertips. “i'll start using my fingers just a bit. tell me if it hurts, alright? and help me here when I touch you.”

she coats her fingers in saliva, bringing them down to your entrance again. she massages you, slowly entering one finger as she looks you in the eyes. she can't believe she had to wait so long to see this. your flushed face and erotic moans make every second, every night full of wet dreams of that moment, every minute desiring you more than anything — it's all worth it. she has you now.

she checks that you're okay and starts moving her wrist. you're so wet, the noise of her finger entering you enough to make your cheeks burn. she's trying to find something, her fingertips pressing your insides gently, here, there, until—

“ah!” you moan when she hits your sweet spot.

“found it.” she adds one more finger, pressing onto that spot again and again, making you squirm.

“uta— hime! utahime!” the hand on your chest moves to your waist, helping you grind against her. utahime uses her thumb to play with your clit, making your back arch a bit. “i'm close!”

“yeah? go on, lovely. make a mess on my fingers.” the stretch of a third finger being added is quickly forgotten as your orgasm wash over you. your legs shake, your back arches fully off the bed, and you're grabbing the sheets for dear life.

she doesn't stop immediately, like your boyfriend usually would if he wasn't cumming. she helps you ride out your high. utahime pulls her fingers off you slowly, licking the mess on her fingers, putting them entirely on her mouth while keeping eye contact with you. erotic. half of your brain doesn't fully function. this was so good, better than any orgasm you had before. she found all your weak spots and hit them perfectly.

utahime caress your thigh gently. a nod of approval, which she usually did to congratulate you on a correct answer in tutoring classes. always rewarding you. utahime leans in to give you a kiss, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

“was that good?” she asks as she leans back.

“you’re kidding me?” you're still trying to catch your breath. is she insane? can't she see how perfect this was? “it was amazing. really, really good—” you hesitate, but she smiles at you.

“go on, angel. tell me what's on your mind.” she gently encourages, voice a bit husky.

“can i do anything to make you feel half as good?” you suggest, shyly.

the glint in utahime's eyes would be dangerous if it weren't so attractive. she tilts her head to the side, pretending to think about something — but you two know. she's been dreaming about it for weeks. she is just choosing what to do.

“there is something, yes. we only do if you want it, though.”

you nod, waiting for her to continue. “what is it?”

“did you ever tried facesitting with a woman?”

that's how you're laid back, with utahime hovering over your face. she smells sweet, addictive even. you wonder if the sex is feeling so good because of how you two get along. but that doesn't matter that much now. she's turned so she can touch you, making your legs wide open, facing the door.

“i'm not going to put my full weight on you, but if you need to breathe, tap my thighs or my waist three times. three times, you hear me?” you hear her voice from above you.

“mm-hmm.” you confirm, hands on the top of her thighs, pulling her to you and giving an experimental lick on her cunt. utahime moans softly, and you see that as permission to continue. you feel her taste on your tongue, and it's so good.

soon the gentle, kitten licks you're giving her are becoming more hungry, desperate ones. iori closes her eyes and let her mouth hang open, letting out moans. her hands are flat against your stomach, trying to steady herself.

“oh, that's it, angel.” she praises. “that's so good, keep licking like that. mmm.”

she's on heaven right now, she's sure of it. satoru gojo's cute girlfriend is eating her out just like she dreamt about for weeks. one of her hands move down to your cunt, just as wet as hers.

utahime licks her lips and moves down to lay over you, taking some hair out of her sweaty face and starting to return the favor. you grab her hips, her ass, giving it a light squeeze.

the feeling is electrifying. there is no other way to describe it beyond that. she makes every nerve in your body burn with the flicks of her tongue, as you do for her. she grabs your thighs, pulling them apart. you can feel her muffled moans against your pussy, the vibrations rushing straight to your core.

and the feeling of your tongue on her cunt is the most perfect she ever felt. utahime smirks to herself, thinking about ways to convince you to do this more. but she won't have to. one night has already turned you two into addicts. existing without each other will become impossible after that.

and that's where the best part happens. utahime is giving kitten licks on your clit when she raises her look, looking at the door. her eyes widen as she sees who's standing there: satoru gojo himself, watching you two through the opening with a terrified look on his face.

there is a bouquet of flowers in his hands. the poor thing is pale and utahime would feel sorry for anyone else. she realizes that, from your position, cunt on your face, you can't see him. you don't even know he's there, since gojo didn't make a sound. then she leans back from your cunt, feeling you whine against hers. she doesn't even have to try hard to look happy. you make her so happy.

and she'll make you happy like this idiot never did.

utahime returns to the original position, grinding her hips against your mouth, bringing a hand to finger you and replace her tongue. she looks satoru straight in the eyes as she moans loudly. it's so obscene.

“oh, pretty, just like that. you love licking your senior's pussy, don't you?” your hum of annoyance almost makes her cum on the spot. the way you grab her hips and pull her more to you is driving her insane. but she still has a secondary goal.

she smirks seeing gojo grimace like that. in years, she had never seen him so upset, so angry. and she can guess why. i think satoru really likes this one, shoko said. he broke so many hearts without giving a damn, provoked utahime several times — and on the day he finally, truly likes a girl, his senior is fucking his girlfriend.

well, after tonight, you'll certainly won't be his anymore. utahime will make sure of that. she enjoys the fact that her back arches when you lick her so eagerly, to stare right at him mockingly.

“told you, y-you could do so much better than him. atta girl. perfect little girl, i want your cunt all to myself now.” she shivers as you moan in agreement, her dirty talking turning you on. “haah— you're really close, aren't you, angel? it's okay. I am, too. i wanna cum on your mouth, okay? you'll let me? ‘going to let your senior make a mess on your tongue?”

“uh-huh!” it's hard to talk when you're so overwhelmed by her taste, by the sound of squelch squelch squelch her fingers make when they enter your cunt again and again. she leans in to spit on it, making you moan and shiver, trying to pull her back to you.

“you're never going to let him hit it again, right, princess?” her question makes a vein of anger pop out on satoru's neck. she never saw him so bothered. so, utahime continues, lifting her hips a bit so you can talk, but not see. “who does this cunt belongs to? remind me and I'll let you cum.”

you whine when she's off you, quick to answer and get your release. “yours! yours, utahime! a-ahh— please go harder! i wanna cum!”

she lowers her hips back down, moaning when your mouth eats her like that. she tilts her head to the side, spreading your legs more for gojo to see how much of a mess she's making you. her thumb plays with your clit again, and she starts humping her hips against your tongue, moaning loudly.

“that's right.” she licks her lips and looks the man right in the eye. “all mine, princess. now go on. cum for me.”

her words are the final push that sends you over the edge. your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and the way you moan against her cunt is obscene. utahime finger-fucks you during your high, making you squirm, undecided if he's trying to run away or lean more into her touch. you thrust your tongue inside of her and that's when she loses it.

she cums almost at the same time as you, riding your face while looking your boyfriend in the eye. you two ride out your highs, and she lifts her hips slightly to help you breathe more easily. your eyes are closed, and you're panting. she's breathless too, trying to regain control do to one last thing.

she bites down her lip, and when things are calming down and he's about to leave, pissed, utahime moves her lips to him without making a sound. a phrase she'd said hundreds of times to him before, but he'd never listened to her.

“respect your senior.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀> there will be no part 2.

©OHKKOTSUU on tumblr.

[su8arandspite]

Feels Like Forever

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day 1991, and Steve has a romantic getaway planned for himself and his girlfriend. But it might be a little more than a weekend away. Or, alternatively, the one where Steve has a very important question he wants to ask Beth.

steve harrington x female!oc

warnings and content: not proofread, probably not geographically accurate, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, smut, mentions of breeding, slight praise kink, unprotected sex

Just a lil (tiny bit late) valentine’s day blurb and some self-indulgence in oc fics. I have mixed feelings about this tbh but i love steve and beth so much & i’d like to send a big thank you to @powderblueblood for encouraging me

word count: 2.9k

(psst: want more beth & steve? Here 1 2 3 are some old classics from the vault ;)) )

“ARE you sure you know where we’re going?” 

Beth turned her gaze away from the passing countryside to lock onto the man sitting in the drivers’ seat beside her. Steve drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beat of the radio, which he had turned on low.

“Yes,” he scoffed. “Maybe. I’m pretty sure it’s just straight down this road and then we turn after the… cornfield”

Steve’s cheeks pinkened. There were miles of cornfields, nothing but them, as they drove through rural Indiana. The laugh that Beth gives in return is kind, mirthful.

“Oh, Steve,” Beth reached to retrieve the map from his glovebox. As she unfolded it, she broke out into a playful grin. “Where would you be without me?” 

She clicked her tongue playfully. Steve tore his eyes away from the road just in time to witness the glow in her eyes as a ray of sunshine caught the hazel and warmed it into the color of fresh honey. He reached for her, gently squeezing her hand in his.

“Darling,” Steve shook his head and pressed a feather-light kiss to her knuckles. “I don’t wanna know.”

“Good,” she breathed over a giggle. “‘Cause you’re stuck with me.”

“Promise?”

Her laugh and the soft hum of agreement she gave with it was like smooth butter melting over toast, and Steve was just as soft. 

This little Valentine’s Day weekend getaway was much-needed. Beth had been working herself too hard, taking up extra shifts at the hospital, and Steve had missed her terribly. She came home tired and overworked more often than not. Beth took care of everyone around her—in and out of work; he only wanted her to feel taken care of, too. It took minimal convincing on Steve’s part to talk her into a weekend for just the two of them. He took Nancy’s suggestion of a place off of Lake Michigan where she and Jonathan had gone some time prior.

“Okay,” she said, tapping at something on the map. “So, I think the turn’s just up the road…”

Sure enough, the sign stuck out of the cornfields just enough for her to spot it. 

“Well, would you look at that,” she teased. “It was by the cornfield.”

The eyeroll Steve gave in response was half-hearted. “See?” 

Beth shifted in her seat as the car finally turned off the gravel road. She tilted her head to look out the window, leaning against it like a little kid. It wasn’t long until the cabin came into view, a quaint little structure that looked cozy and inviting in the winter cold.

Despite her best efforts, Steve refused to let her help him carry the bags inside. She acquiesced and took him up on his suggestion to check the place out instead.

Steve watched with a lovestruck grin as Beth rushed to the back deck. She gripped the bannister and stared out at the view. Even in the dead of winter, the scenery was breathtaking. Lake Michigan was just visible through the trees and what bit of it Beth could make out was frozen solid. Winter or not, she doubted they would have any trouble staying warm in their cozy little cabin.

Mischief shined in her eyes as she completed her visual sweep of the back deck. The jacuzzi had a perfect view out on the nature below and clear through to the water.

“Ooh,” she lilted. “Look, Steve: hot tub!”

This finally pulled him away from the bag he was busy rummaging through and out to join her. Steve padded over to her side like a puppy, eager to find her touch. He hooked his chin over her shoulder. A content sigh rumbled through his chest as his hands slid around her waist, fingers gripping to pull her flush against him. Steve’s breath tickled her neck as he spoke:

“Whaddya say we test it out?”

His hands were warm as they slid under her sweater, heating her where the chilly air hit and spreading from the inside out. Beth shifted in his embrace until their faces were mere inches apart. 

“I’d say: ‘let’s do it, lover boy.’”

The sweet sound of Beth’s laughter faded into a shriek as he lifted her clean off the ground.

“As you wish.”

Steve insisted on planning the weekend for the both of them; he kept as much of it a surprise from Bethany as he could get away with. She only managed to pull it out of him once they were in the car that he was taking her to that zoo she had mentioned wanting to see for the day. Dinner was still a mystery, but she had until 7 PM to weasel her way to that information.

The Washington Park Zoo teemed with families and couples alike. As they strolled through the gift shop, Steve absently rubbed his thumb over the back of Beth’s hand that he was holding. He was pulled from his thoughts by her voice:

“Look, Steve! He kinda reminds me of you,” She held up a small stuffed lion. “You know, sweet face, cool hair…”

Steve took the toy in his free hand and held it up close to his face, puppeting it, “Funny you should say that, because he and I just so happen to both think that you are the most beautiful woman we’ve ever seen.”

She flushed, “Why, thank you.”

“What’s that?” He held it up to his ear, nodding in agreement. “He says he wants to come home with us.”

Beth’s eyes sparkled. Playing along, she took another half-step closer to Steve and gripped its little paw in her hand. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to the family, little guy,” locking eyes with Steve, she beamed. “Say hello to your new Daddy.”

Beth turned on her heel and sauntered further down the aisle. Steve’s cheeks burned and he stood, stunned, until his brain caught up and he ducked away towards the checkout counter before she could even tell him that she had only been joking.

When time to leave for their dinner reservations rolled around, Steve was the last one ready. Beth stood in the living room, leaning over the mirror by the foyer, and giving her lipstick one last glance over, while he was nowhere to be found.

Steve had been fully dressed for a while—crisp button down, even a tie and sports coat— but he was so busy running over things in his mind that he lost track of time. Only the sound of her voice calling his name was enough to pull Steve out of his stupor.

He reached a hand into his pockets one last time; some of the tension released from him as his hand gripped around velvet. Squaring his shoulders, he rushed out to meet her.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” she leaned into his touch to meet his kiss. “And you look very handsome.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” She nodded. “Very.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Steve pulled away enough to whisper. “I love you.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she repeated. “I love you, too.”

Steve leaned in for another peck, but didn’t quite make it there.

“Ah,” she gently placed her palm to his chest, head shaking. “As much as I love where this is heading, we have to go. We’ll be late.”

An exaggerated whine escaped him. Steve hung his head. He lingered just a moment with his nose breathing in the scent of her perfume:

“All right,” he lifted his head, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips to punctuate each word. “Just. One. More. Kiss.”

Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from her. While Beth went ahead to the car, Steve made a show of turning the key. He didn't turn back to join Beth until the lock clicked back into place and the deadbolt was retracted. With the door left unlocked, Steve jogged over to his car. Step one: check.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her leaning casually against the beemer, her blonde locks cascading effortlessly over her shoulders, and the flowy skirt of her cherry red evening dress peeking out from beneath her coat. She was the picture of beauty, and Steve nearly forgot how to think.

Adjusting his jacket, Steve pressed one final kiss to her cheek. He opened up the passenger door and helped her inside.

As he rounded the car, Steve tapped his hand to the trunk twice. And now: dinner.

“Okay,” Steve lowered his hands. “You can look now.”

When Beth opened her eyes, she blinked a few times to adjust to the new lighting. The cabin was dimly illuminated by candlelight, affording a soft glow to the room and emitting a pleasant vanilla scent. Rose petals scattered the floor in a path down the hall, guiding her towards the living room. She followed hesitantly, bolstered by the gentle squeeze of Steve’s hand to her shoulder.

The trail led into the main room where it tapered off just before a semi-circle of candles. Steve moved to stand in the center of it. Tears slipped from his eyes before Steve even hit the ground. He knelt on one knee and, with shaky hands, clumsily opened the ring box.

“I love you so, so much, Bethany Lynn Sullivan—honestly, I have for a very long time now—and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And, if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same. Will you marry me?”

From where Steve knelt, the candlelight just brushed over her face and the single hall light hovered over her head, reflecting like a halo over her blonde hair.

“Steve, yes. Of course, I’ll marry you!”

His hands shook as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It slotted into place like it was always meant to be there. Robin was right, he thought, it was the perfect ring. The band was a shiny yellow gold that stood out against the halo setting. Smaller stones of white diamond and emerald clustered around a one carat diamond that Steve had saved up for for months.

Wiping stray tears from his eyes, he stood, quick to pull her in for a tight embrace. He kissed her with everything he had. Unable to contain his excitement, he lifted her up off of the ground, spinning in a heated smooch.

“Did you do all of this yourself?”

“No,” He shook his head. “Actually, I had a little help from Robin and Eddie. Wanted to keep it a surprise, you know?”

“It’s perfect,” she hummed.

Steve’s heart swelled within his chest so quickly that he was surprised it didn’t just beat clean out of his rib cage. The kiss was a messy blur— his teeth and greedy tongue nipped away her lipstick, grasp liberally taking handfuls of hip and ass, and her hands tangled up in his hair. She tasted of champagne and sugar from the ice cream they shared at dinner; it was every bit as sweet as Beth was. 

The moments that followed were a blur of kisses and champagne. Steve can’t even remember how they ended up in the bathroom or if it had been him or Beth who started the bath. Their clothing long since forgotten, the couple clambered into the soapy water.

Steve sat up on his knees, turning around to face outside the bathtub. He slotted into place between Beth’s knees from where she sat on the edge. His hands slid over the smooth skin of her thighs, grip tightening to hold her in place. Steve spread her open with one hand, licking a long stripe from her wetness up to her clit. His eyes fluttered shut with a groan of arousal and he finally wrapped his lips around her clit, suckling greedily. Every sigh that Beth breathed out went straight to his cock. It twitched with want, neglected, save for what tiny bit of relief he found from bumping his hips against the tub.

“God,” he whined against her. “Such a good girl. Taste so fuckin’ sweet. My good girl.”

Her canary yellow nail polish popped against Steve’s chestnut locks which she grabbed handfuls of and pulled at the roots of in just the way she knew drove him crazy. More praise dripped freely from his lips, every word hurdling her closer to the edge. Pure pleasure and white-hot pressure built up inside Beth until she could hardly stand it. With one last cry of his name, her thighs clenched tightly around his head.

His iron grip on her thigh was the only thing to keep Beth in place through her climax, centering her between each convulsion. Finally, Steve pulled away from her core with a lewd pop. He planted one final sweet peck to her inner thigh, muttering just loud enough for her to pick up on: “I love you.”

Gently, he helped lower her into the warm water. Beth settled facing him, her legs straddling the bottom parts of his thighs. She dropped a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “I love you, too.”

Her kiss-swollen lips slotted against his in yet another sloppy make out. Blindly, she reached her hand between their bodies and palmed lightly at his erection. Her touch was tentative, teasing, as she wrapped her hand around him and slowly began to twist her wrist.

Steve’s jaw lowered in awe. The new jewelry sparkled each time it caught the light and fuck did it look just perfect wrapped around his cock. It was a nod to Steve and the rest of the world that Beth was his fiancée, soon his wife. And the idea alone nearly made him spill into her hand like an overeager teenager. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whined. “Ah, I need to be inside you. Please”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Beth stabilized herself with her hands now gripping his shoulders. Careful not to slip, she straddled him fully and sank herself down onto him. Steve reached to clasp her hands in his as she began to slowly ride him.

It’s messy and sweet, like the rosewater bubbles that had started to fade away around them.  Water sloshed softly with every rock of her hips, slightly drowning out Steve’s whimpers in the same way Beth’s pants muffled out into the warm skin of his shoulder where her head drooped to rest against.

“Ah, ‘m gonna cum,” he bucked his hips up to fuck into her in tandem with the slow rock of her hips. “Gonna come inside of you and— shit, just like that— fuck a baby into you.”

“Me too,” she whined. “Steve, ‘m gonna cum”

Steve’s grip was bruising as he stilled her, fucking up into her one last time. He swiped his thumb lazily over her clit until her second orgasm milked him. Beth was pliant in his arms, slightly sweaty skin plastered to his.

“You know,” Steve broke the silence as he wiped her clean. “I’ve actually been holding onto that ring for a while now.”

“Really?” She smiled, opening her tired eyes to get a good look at him. “For how long?”

“A year.”

He paused his fingers where they had been combing through her hair. Steve’s cheeks burned and swelled as his lips curved into a sheepish smile. 

“It’s perfect,” Beth assured him.

“And so are you.”

As Steve rinsed the shampoo from her hair and Beth turned to start on him, he let her in on another secret: “How does September 16th sound?”

“I think it sounds nice.”

“Good,” he hummed. “I, uh, I don’t know if you remember this, actually, but I wanted it to be then because it was on that day when I first thought I wanted to marry you. I mean, okay, technically, we were 6 and it probably doesn’t really mean anything, but I meant it. You kissed me on the playground behind the slide because I punched Tommy for destroying your art project.”

“God, I’d forgotten about that,” she laughed. “But, yeah. That sounds perfect, Steve.”

“Good,” he hummed. “Okay, so a fall wedding it is.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. So, who’s gonna be your best man? Eddie, or Dustin?”

Steve thought it over for a minute, “Dustin, definitely. After all, he is the one who pushed us together in the first place.”

She laughed. “That’s true.”

Steve grinned and splayed one hand over her belly, musing, “We should name our first born after him, actually.”

“Woah, slow down, there, Mr. Mom,” she patted her hands to his, laughing. “Wedding first, then we can talk about babies.”

Steve pushed his lower lip out in a playful pout, “Fine. But, for the record, you’re gonna be really cute when you’re pregnant”

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m actually not sure about the name, though. I may or may not have lost a bet to Eddie and drunkenly promised to name my eldest child after him.

“Okay,” He snorted, “How does ‘Eddie Dustin’ Harrington sound?”

“It has a certain ring to it.”

Another idea occurred to him as they finally clamored out of the rapidly cooling water, letting the tub drain as Steve grabbed each of them a fresh towel.

“Hey,” Steve perked up. “We can still practice making babies, right?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite stifle the chuckle this pulled from her. “Yes, you idiot.”

“Okay, good,” he hummed. 

Steve cupped her cheeks in his hands. It drew her eyes to his. He didn’t even wait for the laughing fit to subside before he leaned in to kiss her again. She clasped her hands over hers, and he massaged his thumb over the diamond on her engagement ring.

“I love you, Mrs. Harrington,” Steve whispered as he wrapped the towel around her frame. 

“I love you, too, Mr. Harrington.”

pls excuse any typos, to be edited later

[vinnymauro]

make me write: 5k edition

hey hi hello it's been a while! tbh i've been in a gif rot hell hole and while i still have a couple of sets i need to do (about 4 in total) i kind of have an itch to write. and since i can feel some of my life returning to normal i figured i'd start up one of these again!! yes. they're the same wips as they have been because ya boi (gn) here has not posted anything in a while. or finished anything. and i'm already thinking of rewriting the third part to tied me to you for the 2nd rewrite. sigh. help a friend out pls<3

acey’s poll breakdown

this poll is to determine which of my wips will be worked on for 1 week for a goal of 5k

in case of a tie, i’ll split 2.5k between both

the writing won’t start until sunday 12 am and will end the following sunday 12 am (est)

you may (and it’s highly encouraged!!) periodically message me for snippets of which won

you may reblog and random people may vote idc

if you’d like to do this, may i point you to the original poll post that i’m basing this off. but also feel free to do what you want bc, after all, this is for fun!!

the wips

another life

pairing: eddie munson x nancy wheeler prompt: things you said when we were on top of the world plot: musician!nancy wheeler & actor!eddie munson are getting a divorce! read all about it on page six. in an era of social media and high expectations, two people fell in love with versions of themselves they no longer know or recognize.

city lights

pairing: eddie munson x nancy wheeler prompt: things you said when you thought i was asleep plot: affectionately called bartender au where nancy is a bartender, currently lost and trying to find herself in the new city she’s been living in for the past year. eddie is a musician in this but not terribly successful, playing small clubs here and there. there’s a past. this one is the closest to being finished, not quite 5k left so if this wins, the rest of the count will go to 2nd place.

tied pt 3

pairing: steve harrington x chrissy cunningham prompt: things you said when you thought i was asleep (pt 4 will also be this one) plot: the third part is supposed to go to new years 1990/1991. i just need to figure some shit out so make me figure shit out faster.

before sunrise au

if this wins, i'm proof reading it and giving 5k automatically to the second place winner. it is a stargyle fic based on before sunrise that i wrote, finished, and abandoned because i did not feel like i wrote it well.

[gingerjunhan]

Hihi!! It's 🧈 anon, and I was wondering again if maybe you could write a fic for Jun han?

Like the reader is kinda like the laid back reader except they use substances like smoking and drinking (if you're not comfortable with this just leave it out), and Jun han is going to a party that the reader is hosting but the rest of the group tags along.

And the reader ends up starting a fight with one of the members (maybe gunil or o.de) and they both end up bruised and battered but Jun han only patches up reader bc he has that "I can fix him" mentality but reader just starts being an ass to Jun han and says some hurtful things

Definitely want it to be hurt and angst with no comfort. I want to feel terrible, that's just the mood I'm in for.

If you don't wanna write this, please feel free to say no!

Have an amazing day!!!

☆彡 I’m still not the best at writing angst, so you’ll have to excuse me. It’s definitely not as physical as you wanted- it’s mainly just an argument. My bad. Also, sorry this took so long! I ended up dropping a class this week! Haha! I love college!

word count: 1,515 | pronouns used: they/them | genre: angst, established relationship | cws: drinking/ getting drunk (reader is a lightweight lmao), protective Seungmin, strong language, arguing, short physical fight, reader is a bitch tbh, no happy ending, implied breakup, Gunil dancing 😟 (mentioned), partially proofread, let me know if I missed anything!!!

Throwing parties was never unusual for you. Almost every other week you seemed to be throwing a rager. This week was no different.

Your boyfriend and his friends had just arrived at your door now that they were done with work, and all of them were displaying different emotions. Your boyfriend, Hyeongjun, seemed happy to be there- or at least to see you. He was a little awkward, granted, but happy to be there. Jiseok and Jooyeon were right there along with him. They were happy to be out and about on a Friday night as opposed to being cooped up in the studio practicing.

Gunil presented himself with a pleasant smile and wave, nothing more. The same with Jungsu, although he also came off as a little more nervous. Seungmin, on the other hand, you could tell was not in the mood to be here right off the bat. He occupied himself on his phone as you greeted the group and welcomed them into your home. He wore a slight scowl on his face, and it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Your small house was full of people. 30 at least. The music was loud, the air was sticky, and there were people everywhere. Jooyeon and Jiseok quickly made their way to the kitchen.

“Thanks for coming, baby,” you yelled to Hyeongjun over the music. You already had a drink in your hand- your second one of the night. Seungmin rolled his eyes at you as you flung your free arm over Hyeongjun’s shoulders. The party had only started about an hour ago, and you were already on your way to making a fool out of yourself.

“Of course,” Hyeongjun chuckled. You were so dazed from the combination of alcohol and the warmth coming off of his body that you didn’t pick up on his tone. Hyeongjun isn’t a partier. It took a lot of convincing to get him to come over tonight. He clearly wasn’t very comfortable in this atmosphere, but you were too out of it to notice.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” As you looked at Hyeongjun, he began to take note of the slight pink hue in your cheeks.

“Um,” he looked down at your cup. “I’ll just have a water. Somebody’s gotta take care of Jooyeon later.”

You laughed and quickly gave him a kiss before disappearing into the kitchen. It was at this point that Seungmin took his opportunity to come talk to Hyeongjun.

“Dude,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on Hyeongjun’s shoulder. “You don’t have to stay. I know you told (Y/N) you’d come over tonight, but I doubt they’d want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, uh,” Hyeongjun took a second to look at the floor before returning his gaze to Seungmin. “It’s alright. I can stay.”

“Are you sure? I know this isn’t typically your type of thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. Besides, I don’t plan on drinking or anything so I’ll be fine.”

Just then, you returned with a cup full of water for Hyeongjun, and your cup had been topped off as well. You handed him his cup and took a sip out of yours. A new song started to play over the speakers, and you gasped excitedly.

“Oh my god I love this song! C’mon, Jun, let’s go dance!”

Hyeongjun quickly averted his eyes to the group of people all dancing together in your living room. He saw Gunil dancing with a girl on his arm, laughing to each other as they bobbed to the music. Hyeongjun couldn’t help but to smile.

“I think I’m okay with just watching. You go have fun though. I think Jiseok is out there somewhere if you want to find him.”

“Nooo,” you whined, practically throwing yourself at him. “I don’t wanna dance with Jiseok, I wanna dance with youuuu. C’mon, baby, pleeeease.” You took one of Hyeongjun’s hands and started slowly walking him out towards the crowd of people. He didn’t say anything, he just swallowed hard, accepting his fate. That was, until, a voice spoke up.

“He said no.”

You looked over Hyeongjun’s shoulder to find Seungmin glaring at you.

“Excuse me?” You walked your way over to him, still keeping a firm hold on Hyeongjun’s hand. You took another drink out of your cup.

“Hyeongjun told you he didn’t want to dance, so don’t force him to. He can stay here with me.” Seungmin’s expression was stern, but his voice was calm. For some reason, this made you angry.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you looked up at him. “Am I suddenly the bad guy for wanting my boyfriend to have a good time? Because I don’t think I am. So why don’t you-“ you poked Seungmin’s chest “just shut the fuck up?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyeongjun’s eyes widen. “C’mon, babe, let’s go.” You started to pull on his arm again.

“What did you just say to me?” Once again, you turned your attention to Seungmin. You dropped Hyeongjun’s hand entirely, and got close to Seungmin. He stood straight up now, and if looks could kill, you’d be on death row.

“I said,” you couldn’t see it, but Hyeongjun sent Jungsu a pleading look once he was located across the room. Jungsu noticed immediately. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

There was a beat of silence between the two of you again before Seungmin finally responded.

“Make me.”

With that, something inside of you snapped, and the drink in your hand was suddenly all over Seungmin. He wasn’t typically one to fight, but he wasn’t going to stand by as you did something that blatantly made his friend uncomfortable. As the people in the room slowly began to take note of the situation at hand, Jungsu began to budge his way through the crowd. Seungmin was quick to react, reeling his hand back and swinging an open palm at you, landing a harsh slap wherever he could reach. He ended up catching your cheek, and one of his rings caught your skin.

Before you could do anything other than yell more profanities at him, Hyeongjun was grabbing you- throwing his body around yours and pulling you away from Seungmin. Jungsu quickly made his way up to Seungmin, putting a hand on each of his shoulders and holding him back as well. As you continued to yell, Hyeongjun pulled you away to the small bathroom down the hall. Once inside, he locked the door and stood in front of it, forcing you to stay inside and take a second to breathe.

“What was that for?” He asked softly. “I’ve never seen you act like that before, and suddenly you get drunk and start fighting with one of my friends?”

“Oh, so you think I’m only doing this because I’m drunk?” You were yelling at him. Hyeongjun was surprised. He assessed the scratch left on your cheek by Seungmin’s ring, and he began looking for bandages.

“Yes, (Y/N), I do.” The bandages were located quickly. He held it up to you, “Come here.”

You approached Hyeongjun and crossed your arms. He began to unwrap the bandage. “I was trying to get you to have some fun, Jun. I was doing that for your own good. Seungmin’s just a bitch.”

“Hey,” Hyeongjun pulled away from you now. The tan bandage on your cheek held a strong contrast compared to the flush over the rest of your face. “Don’t call him that.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes! Seungmin was just trying to help me.”

“Help you?” You scoffed. “That’s so stupid. I was just trying to make you loosen up a little.”

“And I didn’t want to do that, but you clearly didn’t care enough to realize.”

“God, you’re so fucking boring.”

Hyeongjun felt a pain in his chest. He always worried about being “boring.” You knew this. It was a huge insecurity of his.

“So first you’re going to get in a fight with one of my best friends, and now you think I’m boring?” He was finally starting to raise his voice a bit.

“Yeah, I do,” you confirmed. “You and all of your stupid friends. The only one out of all of you who knows how to have fun is Jiseok. Maybe I should’ve dated him instead.”

That was it for Hyeongjun. He knew things between you weren’t going to be the same the second you raised your voice to Seungmin, but this just solidified it.

“Yeah,” his voice was quiet again, but still stern. “Maybe you should’ve.” He began to walk towards the door, and your rampage only continued.

“Yeah, leave!” You called out to him. “Go cry to Seungmin. I wanna see what he’ll do now.”

Hyeongjun slammed the door on you before making his way back down the hall. All of Hyeongjun’s friends were waiting for him in the kitchen. He silently rushed past them all as he made his way towards the front door. Seungmin tried to apologize, but Hyeongjun just kept walking.

“Let’s just go home. We don’t have any reason to be here.”

[plutothe-pup]

RP RESOLUTIONS AND HABITS:

TW: .........i used a lot of memes............im sorry. idk how to be serious. im in a silly goofy mood idk. do u see the header u know what u signed up for ok

Real TW: very minor drug mentions.

Write your RPer Resolutions for 2024! (What are some goals for yourself as a writer? Improve descriptions? Plot with more members? Etc.)

Once again, I am asking myself to learn how to plot. That is going to be the theme here, just wait. Seriously though, I am pretty terrible at it. I do not like to approach people because I am........... idk weird. I am somehow anti-social even online and tend to just sit there twiddling my thumbs instead of reaching out. It's been a problem for me for literally ever. Sometimes I even get scared when people reach out to ME. But one year maybe we will get there. I also want to get back to regular activity. I've been really slipping these past few ... well, years I feel. I want to be more consistent at the very least, and not just post, disappear, spam, disappear, etc. I know I say this every time - but maybe just once: do a big plot. Do a big plot for yourself buddy. You can do it. Best Supporting character's get a sequel spin-off series one day, right. Just do it. JUST DO IT. I also feel like my writing recently compared to years ago has gotten poorer in quality. Idk what that's all about but I would like to improve that. Make proofreading a thing for me again 2024 or whatever.

me @ myself:

Write at least one resolution, or “goal,” that you have as an RPer for your character(s):

Oh - you....... you think I have GOALS? (tbh I think they align with my character's own. We're on the SAME TEAM)

Greg: RECONNECT WITH HIS PARENTS. This was like a silent plot I started literally over a year ago where Gregory got more and more distant with his parents until they stopped talking entirely and he moved out to live at R2F. He's been on and off about trying to reach out - and this is the year to do it. Also probably come to terms a bit more with his relationship with Zero. He's comfortable in it and loves Zero very much - but there's that voice in the back of his mind still saying that he'll leave. Sebastian: Get over his crush on Lo that he did to himself. I want him to fully accept uncle life. To get over his fear of hurting people. Milo: BREAK. HIS. CURSE. .........nah. That's not my goal for him this year lmfao. I want him to find his passion, actually. Will it be in working out and being a jock? Does he actually have a fond passion for cooking? Does he yearn for theater? Fawn: Get her into TROUBLE. I didn't really do much with this yet, but she's a TROUBLE MAKER. She's nearly been kicked out the hollow for god's sake. She is a TERROR. It's time to UNLEASH IT.

Write at least one resolution IN CHARACTER for your characters. What do THEY want to accomplish or change in the New Year?

Greg: Reconnect and apologize to his parents - but to do that... kick the minor drug problem first. Sebastian: Don't die. (.....i can't stress enough this man doesn't have outlooks) Milo: BREAK. MY. CURSE. Fawn: Discover a new creature in Enchantra! Befriend the creature! Train the creature! Sick the creature on Eboshi so it eats her and the forest is free again :)

List one or more characters you have never interacted with that you would like to do so:

.....disclaimer: I have bad memory now. soooooo. if we did interact and I list u here I am so sorry i am so so so so sorry.

Clarion: For obvious reasons, and also as stated above - Fawn is on mighty thin ice in the Hollow, so I think any interactions between them would be great and funny. And........ well maybe she gets kicked out oops. Doc: I'm not counting twitter interactions - I just think because of the whole Luca thing, I feel like Doc has flip flopped on his opinion of Milo multiple times and it would be funny for them to finally meet and talk. (and prove he's a good boi!) Any of TAM'S characters strictly because - I believe u have escaped me so far. Eluded. (That's not hard, as we discussed in point 1 I am very inconsistent) That should change!! ....I am sure the format of this post is very enticing...... sorry.

Talk a bit about your plotting style – what plots are you most drawn to? Do you prefer to come with a fully-formed idea and plot off that, or throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks?

And here dear reader we return to the beginning again. Roll credits: oh man, I simply do not. I am by default a 'buckle your seatbelts and lets just see wtf happens' kind of person simply because I am SO BAD at plotting in the first place! So many of my 'plots' revolve around other people's well equipped talents, or throwing my characters at opens/events/etc and seeing what disaster strikes. I'm just doing drive bys at all times of day.

Talk a bit about character relationships – what relationships are you most drawn to? How do you prefer to approach shipping (if at all!)? What, specifically, are you looking for right now for your character relationships? 

I love just good old fashion friendship and family relationships! Like I adore the relationship Milo has with Pip/King/Luca. The Greg/Jun relationship, Sebby and his bros. I think it's pure and good and writing BFFs getting into dumb things is my favorite. I also like BEEF. I am a fan of rough-housing so to speak. Drama? Sure. Pile it up. Beef? Grudges. Fights. Whatever. It is okaaaaay. I love a good ol' beefin' between people. Same as above. I barely plot as it is - but when I do, it's definitely not relationships/shipping. In fact, I don't really 'ship'. i don't plan around ships, I don't get characters for ships, I don't anticipate ships. If one develops while throwing fruit--- I mean characters at other people, then that's great! That's how.......... both of my current relationships are! Phineas and Fawn were completely random and not at all my intention but they vibed from the start and it happened to work out in the timeline. Gregory and Zero were incredibly unlikely but started talking here and there, and Z and I didn't really say........ anything to each other at all until they were kissing in Pixie's and even then - we didn't think they'd become a #thing. ..........which they did. So I'm pretty much just...... looking to expand on the ones I have? Explore Phawneas a bit and see what on earth is going on inside their head, see where Glo takes us. ............figure out if Seahound can survive not jumping each other's bones forever.

Plotting Exercise! Pick one of the resolutions/goals in #3 and plan a rough guideline to how you could accomplish it.

..........what if I said no, huh? I'm so BAD at this (it all comes back to it yanno)

GREG TALKS TO HIS PARENTS:

GREGORY and ZERO have a discussion post-Zero's parents coming to town, where ZERO tries to prod about what is going on between GREG and his parents, and Greg comes clean to him about the fight that happened between them. Zero gently offers to go with him to talk to them but Greg doesn't think it's time yet.

Still too uncertain, GREG asks IAN if his mum has said anything about Aubrey, or about Greg. He tries to gauge if his parents have been talking about him to their friends, if they're upset, or if they've moved on.

PLOT CALL: Gregory anonymously looks into sources for mental health, and tries to find people with experience in the same struggles he's had. He either forms or joins an anonymous online/twitter support group for such problems / group therapy.

Having overheard various times through the grapevine, GREG finds and approaches TAD to see if he can talk to him about his recovery and sobriety and find advice/guidance for that path.

Knowing that he might get the most brutal honest answers, GREG confides in JUN and asks his advice on what he should do or how he should handle it.

GREG finally bites the bullet and drags JUN and ZERO to his parents house for support to talk to them again after over a year of radio silence.

PHEW. A tough one.

Anyways. ...........................

my deepest apologies again. idk what happened. this did start serious but then it went off the rails. it's sincere between all the...... whatever that is.

[the-hype-dragon]

Books I read in November

I feel like I've been too negative lately so I'll try to focus mostly on the things I enjoyed about all of these books (even tho I didn't really enjoy two of them lmao):

House of Mist by Maria Louisa Bombal - 4/5

Crazy book about an orphan girl who marries a man who doesn't love her, and her attempts to cope with her loveless marriage. Things look up for her in the last quarter of the novel. Obviously written by someone who is ESL but I thought the prose was beautiful. Also loved the characters, even the protagonist's asshole husband. Just had a blast reading this tbh

The Crane Husband by Kelly Barnhill - 2/5

Short novel about a teen girl whose mom gets into an abusive relationship. I thought the themes were interesting but for the most part the whole thing felt very clumsy, felt like the author was trying to handle too much at once. The main character was your typical world-weary parentified kid genius a la Bella Swan but was remarkably stupid when the plot called for it, which is something a lot of authors do and I always find it lazy. I really liked the mom's arc however.

The Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood - 5/5

I just liked everything about this book lmao. Story of three Canadian women who conspire against a fourth woman, who stole their men from them; entertaining intro to feminist theory imo. I recommend just reading it for yourself.

The Princess Bride by William Goldman - reread, 4/5

Have loved this book since I first read it in high school lmao. A book about a book; if you've only ever watched the movie I think you're missing out. The book is way funnier in a way that simply couldn't be translated into film. Recommend reading it if you never have. Always blown away by how good Goldman was at the characterizations in this book, everyone is deliberately archetypal and the writing is trope-heavy but the characters still feel unique and alive.

Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt - reread, 3/5

Story of a girl who falls in love with a hot goth bf. In all seriousness it's about accepting death and learning to find the beauty in it, while simultaneously appreciating life. Anyway this is one of the few books I've read where I think the middle chunk is the best part of it. There are things that the protagonist decides to do late in the book that don't make a lot of sense in the overall context of the story; feels like it should have been 50 pages longer. The way the characters fawn over men isn't my cup of tea but I did like the female friendship central to the book, kind of refreshing in a book from the mid-00s lmao.

Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare - 1/5

(I cannot be positive about this one 😞) If you've read one Shadowhunter novel you've read them all. So I liked the book up until about the last fourth. Clare's books are all formulaic and the pacing is usually janky but it was fairly consistent here. I like slow-paced books fine. But the thing about her books is that she will introduce a plot and then everyone fucks around for about 300 pages and then the plot starts up again in the last quarter of the book. That happened here and it was terrible. The last chapter was excruciating and is the first time I've skimmed anything this year. Everyone is a moron. Lots of nonsensical character actions in the last few chapters. The plot was weirdly centered around Alistair, who is not a main character but had more personality and character development than anyone else in the book. I feel like this got a basic proofread but no real editing. No spelling errors but good lord were there tons of weird repetitive sections. Kind of surreal that it's this much of a trainwreck when I know for a fact CC had been planning this out while she was writing The Infernal Devices like twelve years go, what a huge disappointment lmao but I expected no less!

Dust by Elizabeth Bear - reread, 5/5

One of those really weird books that are really beautifully written. Chivalric romance *in space* with a core cast belonging to a Habsburg-esque ruling family (with everything that implies). Very convoluted and twisty-turny plot. Beautiful prose and fascinating world. Wouldn't really recommend but it's one of my favorite books.

Chill by Elizabeth Bear - reread, 4/5

The sequel to Dust and another reread. Writing is as beautiful as first book, world is still fascinating etc. etc. Rereading this I remembered why I didn't like it as much as the first, after I read them years and years ago: nothing happens before the 50% mark except a lot of chasing after the antagonist. (I am not a fan of worldbuilding-heavy fantasy/sci-fi so I did not like what is essentially a tour of the central space ship, cool as it is.) Also feels like some details here contradict those established in the first book, mostly to do with who is related to whom and how. The writing and action picks up in the back half. Have never been a fan of books that screw around for huge chunks of the narrative so in spite of how much I love the second part of this book I find it vastly inferior to the first. Shame.