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myownwholewildworld · 2 months ago

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gif by @\watchbroken

“you ain’t falling asleep again” — an oldman!joel miller drabble

main masterlist | ao3 pairing: oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel takes viagra and can't keep it down. he decides you can help. and the glasses stay on. a/n: please everyone say, THANK YOU SYD @syd-djarin !! i wouldn’t have written this if it wasn’t for you! tysm for allowing me to be shamelessly feral and for cheering me on, you know i love ya <3 anyways, hope you guys like this drabble, i am ovulating. heed the warnings and enjoyyyy xx tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. pwp. filthy smut. the old man’s glasses stay on. breeding kink. consensual somno. use of viagra. brief reference to a limp dick situation cause it’s hot. period sex and descriptions of period blood. joel goes down to town on you (f!oral), so vampire!joel if you wish cause he loves it. fingering. unprotected piv. creampie. age gap, no age gap, your choice. no description of reader other than afab. unedited, soz, i'm horny and i wanted this out asap. w/c: ~1.8k

Joel resented you. Really did.

You were sprawled across his bedsheets, legs splayed without a worry in the world. And here he was, on the rocking chair facing the bed in his Jackson home, watching you enjoy your beauty sleep, while his cock beat hard on his calloused hand.

He’d definitely overdone it with the viagra. At the tender age of sixty-one, Joel sometimes needed a bit of help to get him going. The first time he’d remained limp on your hand, despite your best efforts, had really stuck with him. Truth be told, that hadn’t stopped you from sucking him off, giggling and drooling all over his dick. But still, it embarrassed him. So, when Joel had the chance to trade for some pills, he did.

And now he had to deal with the consequences of his actions. He’d been railing you all night till the first lights glittered in his room—your beautiful body bouncing on his cock while the light reflected off the sweaty drops kissing your skin. But unlike him, you were spent and in much need of some rest.

Joel, on the other hand, had not been able to go back to sleep. As soon as he heard your soft, cute snores, his veiny cock had hardened again. Unconsciously his eyes darted to the sweet nook between your thighs. He really had the best view from here, eagerly watching his spent dripping down your slick slit.

The chair rocked under him, his big hand palming the growing erection, his eyes roving over every delicious curve of your body. And then something caught his eye—the cum leaking from your pussy was no longer white, but a shade of pink.

Joel sat on the verge of the rocking chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose to have a better look. No, his old man’s sight wasn’t betraying him—you really were bleeding.

His cock had a mind of its own, reacting to the call of nature in the most primal way. Joel tugged at his shaft, squeezing himself tight while a pearl of precum adorned his flushed cockhead. Your period couldn’t have come at a better time. Joel thoroughly enjoyed himself when that time of the month arrived—a reminder of how breedable you were.

Joel stood up, throbbing cock on hand and his cracking knees betraying his moves. He couldn’t just stay put any longer—surely, you’d understand that he was compelled to do this. That he just couldn’t stop himself, not when you were freely bleeding on his white bedsheets.

You stirred a bit when the wooden floor creaked beneath his weight, but your eyes stayed shut. Joel tiptoed to the foot of the bed and carefully sat on the mattress. Up close, he inspected your cunt with diligence. Your pussy was still gushing out his pinkish cum, but he needed to see red.

Bunching the bedsheets on his fist, Joel swiped your seam clean, his thumb stroking your entrance through the fabric to ensure no remnants were left behind. Once he was satisfied, he laid on his tummy and moved your legs, so the back of your knees rested on his shoulders. Now he could really see your slick cunt up close.

Joel spread your pussy lips, coaxing them apart to stretch your crying hole. A few seconds later, he was gifted with a glob of blood. He thumbed your clit softly, coaching your cunt to leak some more period blood for him, and you quietly squirmed. Another red bubble dripped down your fold, smearing your sweet puffy lips, staining his sheets. His eyes locked in on your beating bud, and he just knew what he had to do.

Hypnotised by the sensuality of it all, Joel leaned in and kissed your begging clit. The fingers that were stretching your lips open for him travelled down your glistening seam until they reached your bloodied opening. Without even doubting himself, Joel shoved his middle and ring ringers in your wet warmth, the squelching of your blood almost making him feel dizzy with lust.

Joel suckled on your clit, your thighs trembling against his ears, and then his mouth dropped. He removed his fingers from your tight hole and coated the skin of your inner thigh with your own blood while his tongue dived in.

Your pussy tasted divine. Metallic, fertile, slightly bitter. His favourite flavour, that was for sure. When Joel lapped your whole seam, from your seeping entrance, through your clit, to your mound, he felt your hand fisting his salt-and-pepper curls.

“Joel… What are you…” you trailed off sleepily, moaning as your back arched off the mattress.

Joel looked up at you, smirking like the devil he was.

“Just let me have this,” he almost implored, pecking the bloody fingerprints he’d left behind on your inner thigh.

“Are you… are you still hard?” you managed to croak out, eyes fluttering shut when Joel latched on your clit again.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, mouth full of you.

Joel alternated between fingering you and prodding your hole with the tip of his tongue, drunk with your iron-like tang, thumb pressing tight circles on your clit. And he truly didn’t stop until your legs were shaking uncontrollably around him and you were mewling your pleasure, your wails echoing in his bedroom.

With a bit more of encouragement, you finally came in his mouth. Joel didn’t hesitate to drink everything your cunt oozed out—the period blood mixing with your cream was his personal nectar. His favourite breakfast. He shamelessly licked your folds and hole clean, revelling in how your entrance quivered around the tip of his tongue when he poked at it.

Your mind was still hazy with the ghost memory of your wet dream, but Joel eating your bloody pussy out definitely had you delirious. This old man of yours knew no shame, no hard limits. And you loved him for it.

When Joel emerged from between your thighs, you gasped, and your pussy gushed. His beard was covered in your period blood, even his cheeks were smudged. And Joel just… looked so chuffed about it all, it made you smile back at him.

You glanced down at his lap when he knelt between your legs, his broad hands resting on your knees to part your thighs for him. His stiff cock greeted you, swaying and throbbing. He was about to fucking explode, so red and swollen, leaking precum everywhere—you truly feared for his wellbeing.

“Fuck, Joel…” You bit down your plump bottom lip, eyes focused on his dick. “How many pills did you take?”

“Two. I wasn’t sure if one was enough, needed to make sure I could fuck you all night long,” he admitted, tapping your clit a few times with his warm, tacky cockhead. “And then you fucking bail on me, falling asleep and leaving me hanging.”

Before you could defend yourself, Joel buried himself in you down to the fucking hilt in one smooth thrust. You braced yourself and grabbed at his forearms, back arched so much that your nipples were kissing his naked chest.

Without exchanging another word, Joel began railing you hard, his throbbing cock growing inside you, impossibly so. He filled your entire pussy, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix every time he hammered in. No thoughts formed in your brain, you could only moan and sob and scream his name so everyone in Jackson would know you were getting your guts fucked.

Joel imposed a punishing pace, anchoring his hands to the headboard while his hips slammed against yours, the clapping of skin on skin competing with your loud groans. His mushroom head dragged alongside your anterior wall every time he ploughed you, rubbing that precise spongey spot inside you that made your pussy hug him tighter.

You just managed to open your eyes and glance up at him. He was gorgeous, the most handsome man you’d ever had the pleasure to meet. And he was all yours.

With every plunge, his old man’s glasses slipped further down the bridge of his aquiline nose, until they caught on the tip of his nose. The glass was all foggy now, and you were almost sure Joel couldn’t see shit right now. The picture made you smirk, but his incessant shoves forced your mouth to shape a perfect O before you began moaning his full name again.

Joel was fucking you so hard into the mattress, the precarious balance of his glasses gave way, and the frames fell onto your chest. Without thinking, you snatched them to put them on back on his nose but then you thought better of it. Instead, you put them on and looked up at him with a sly grin—it was all blurry, but could still make out his face and feral eyes.

“Fucking beautiful,” he husked out.

You felt the pulse emitted by his girthy cock, and the threat of his orgasm called to yours. When the first ropes hit your cervix, you came with him, your pussy milking him dry of every single drop he fed you. Joel filled you up to the brim with his cum and not satisfied with it, he fucked his spent into you for a couple of minutes while your used cunt spasmed around him.

You were truly spent, laboriously breathing, your heart racing wild in your chest. Joel was heaving too, and his greying brows furrowed when his cock left your entrails.

You couldn’t help but look down—you had left pink creamy rings on his hard cock, a mixture of your juices, his cum and your period blood. And when you peeked over at your pussy, you sighed. Yes, your pussy was smeared red, your inner thighs too, and you were still bleeding onto his sheets.

You should have felt slightly embarrassed, but knowing how much Joel enjoyed you on your period, well... there was literally nothing to be shy about. As a matter of fact, you had been waiting for this time of the month to come, because you just knew that Joel would be feral about you.

Letting your head fall back for a breather, you felt Joel pet your overstimulated clit. You whimpered a little, your nerve endings flaring alive, almost painfully, and your brows bunching together in concentration.

You managed to open your eyes again, and then you realised. He was still hard. Very much so.

“You ain’t falling asleep again,” he groaned, pointing an accusatory bloody finger at you. “‘M not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

He was right. Joel didn’t let you.

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thehoneybeestings · 2 months ago

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊˚── Request: "hiiiii! i love your writing soo much, i’m not sure if you take in requests but if you do, could you write something about sevika w/ chubby reader where she’s feeling insecure and sevika worships her body alll night (maybe gentle sex?) byeeeee😚"

Word Count: 2.6k Content/Warnings: nsfw, reader referred to w fem pronouns/terms, reader has female anatomy, top! sev, bottom! reader, fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), talk of body insecurity A/N: omg doing requests makes me nervous bc like... what if it's not good lol anyway i still really enjoyed this request and i loveee me some soft!sevika. i hope you enjoy, and that perhaps this will serve as a bit of comfort for when you're feeling down on yourself. all bodies are good bodies, and all bodies deserve love; that is a non-negotiable. praying to Aphrodite for blessings to anyone needing an extra boost of self-love today <3

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

You're taking far too long to get ready.

This certainly isn't an uncommon occurrence, and Sevika has come to learn that you will almost always underestimate the amount of time you need to get dolled up. Thankfully, when it comes to you, she has the patience of a saint.

But still, you're taking too long to get ready.

She peers down at the watch you got her for her birthday last year- it’s 30 minutes out from your dinner reservation at one of the nice restaurants topside- and rises from the couch, contemplating which cliche she'll use to poke some lighthearted fun at your lengthy getting-ready routine.

“Not gettin’ any younger-”

No, she'd used that one last time.

“You're running on turtle time in here.”

She snorts to herself. She recalls the way you always stop what you're doing to roll your pretty eyes at that one, but never without a grin.

Once upon a time, she considered her one and only purpose to be fighting for the prosperity of Zaun. That was before she made you smile for the first time.

A grin adorns her own face as she crosses the threshold from the hallway into your shared bedroom, but when she makes it to the door of the attached bathroom, the upward quirk of her lip falls.

The door is slightly ajar, just enough for her to see your reflection in the mirror.

You're pinching at the fullness of your sides, your stomach, your thighs. A deep frown is etched onto your face, and when she sees tears begin to prick your eyes, she leaves two gentle knocks on the door.

Your eyes go wild for a split second, but when you meet her gaze through the reflection, your shoulders drop with a sigh. Not in relief, but in defeat.

No lighthearted quip falls from her lips this time. Not when her girl is upset.

“You okay in here, baby?”

She opens the door wider before leaning on its frame, concerned eyes glued to you.

“These don't fit anymore,” you mumble, looking down at the jeans you're now peeling off.

“Yeah?”

You look up to find that a lazy smirk graces her face, her gaze shamelessly trailing up and down your lower half.

“Sev.”

Her eyes snap up to meet yours upon hearing your curtness. Usually, you wouldn't be able to help but crack a little smile as she checked you out.

Her own words are somber now.

“Hey,” she says, gingerly tucking away the stray tendril of hair that had fallen into your face as you bent over to tug your pants off of your ankles. “Talk to me. What's going on?”

An irritated huff escapes you as you squeeze your eyes shut and place your hands on your hips.

“What's going on is that I’m…”

Your words come out harsher than you’d intended. You open your eyes to find that she stares back with nothing but warmth.

The patience of a saint.

You exhale through your nose, turning back to the mirror to examine the fullness of your figure.

Your eyes begin to water again.

“I've gained so much weight, Sevika. I look so bad.”

She rears her head back, and for a good 10 seconds, she stares at you with pure, incredulous offense.

“What?” She finally spits, but you know she isn't angry with you. “What are you talking about?”

“You don't get it,” you grovel. You knew she wouldn't. There wasn't a universe that existed in which she regarded your body as anything less than worthy of worship; you just wished you could see what she saw.

“Listen,” she begins, brows raised in disbelief, “I don't mean to make you feel silly or anything, but… baby.”

She slots herself behind you, strong arms wrapping around to circle the form you'd just been scrutinizing. Her touch has always reflected the reverence she has for your body, for you. Her palms will splay across your body, savoring every curve and dip, traveling like a steady stream through peaks and valleys.

Now, her mech hand sits cool and firm on your hip, its flesh counterpart snaking up your arm. She leaves a squeeze when she gets to the junction between your shoulder and your neck- tight, she notes; she'll work some of the knots out later tonight- before planting a kiss in its wake.

Her chin rests there now, her eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the mirror.

“You're so fucking gorgeous.”

Her breath fans your ear as she speaks. The purr of her words rumbles through you like a chill down your spine.

She knows your weaknesses.

Your lips quirk up into a small smirk.

“That's what you think,” you rebut.

“I don't think; I know.”

Indignation never did get far with Sevika, even in tender moments like these. More often than not, she knows she's right, and she has no problem refreshing your memory of that.

It's why she suddenly pulls out her phone, looks up a phone number unbeknownst to you, and gives it a call.

You watch in confusion as she saunters back into your room, phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she begins to fumble with the buckle of her belt.

“Hey, yeah, I've got a reservation for Sevika tonight at seven,”

She slides the belt off through the loops of her pants,

“Yeah, for two; that's right. Hate to do this so late notice, but something's come up and we won't be able to make it.”

You quirk a curious brow. Her socks are off now, and she’s fumbling to take her watch off her wrist and place it back on the dresser.

“Perfect. Appreciate your understanding. Yeah, you too.”

With that, she hangs up, tosses the phone onto the plush comforter, and strolls over to you unassumingly.

Your head is tilted to the side as she approaches and wraps her strong arms around your waist once more.

“What’d you do that for?”

“Don't pout, mama,” she keens, twisting you around to face the mirror. Her hand sneaks around to dip underneath your top, her hand inching up your waist and taking the material of your shirt with it.

“You heard me. Something else came up.”

You chortle as her intentions are made obvious by eager hands pulling your shirt over your head and dark eyes taking in the lace garment hidden underneath.

“Honey, you didn't have to-”

“Nuh-uh,” she interrupts. “We can go out to dinner anytime. Right now,”

Her grip is gentle on your jaw as she turns your head, her eyes now meeting your own,

“if I can make you feel as gorgeous as I know you are, even if just for a second,”

And then, she plants a kiss on your lips, on your jaw, just below your ear, before she asserts,

“Then you're damn right I’m putting everything on the back burner to do just that.”

Your breath hitches in your throat when her fingers dip below the band of your underwear, lingering just for a second, just above where she knows you want her, before she pulls them away with a growing smirk.

“C’mere, baby,” she mutters, twisting you around once more to face her. “Let me kiss you first.”

The first one she plants on your lips is soft, tender, like you’re made of porcelain. She holds your face in her hands like you’ll fall to the ground, shattering into pieces below her if she lets go.

She knows that words have never been her forte- that she’ll never be able to articulate just how achy her heart gets when she thinks about how special you are to her- so she’ll try her best to show you this way. With a kiss that grows deeper, more eager, as fervent as the love she harbors for you, if she can manage it. She’ll catch your bottom lip between her teeth, tongue darting out to soothe it before the muscle finds your own, inviting it to dance. She’ll grab your jaw, grip the hair at the base of your skull, press her body against yours as she pulls you impossibly close; so close that hopefully, for a fleeting moment in time, the two of you become one.

Maybe then, you’ll feel what she feels. You’ll see what she sees.

Perfection. All she sees is perfection.

She guides you to face the mirror again, breathless as she whispers,

“Look how pretty. Can’t get enough.”

She’s trailing kisses along your shoulders as she unbuttons her own shirt, the fabric parting to reveal that she dons nothing underneath it.

“Scandalous,” you tease.

“You’re the one who yells at me when you go to grab my tits and there’s something in the way.”

Her lips quirk up into a smile when you punch out a laugh, throwing your head back against her shoulder.

“Pretty girl,” she muses again, dipping down to place a kiss on your neck.

Her hands are back on your waist as soon as her shirt hits the floor, kneading at the fullness that never fails to drive her crazy. She hums in approval, a deep rumble that nearly escapes her as a growl. She pulls you flush against her body, her mech arm wrapping around to anchor you in place.

Your breath quickens. You know what she’s doing. Holding you up, because when she’s done with you, your legs will have given out.

She smirks at the hitch in your breath.

“You ready for me, baby?”

There’s no need for her to ask. Her fingers have already found the arousal pooling at your core.

“Oh, you’re ready,” she coos.

“Please,” you whisper as her finger trails up, parting your lips with no resistance, but never making it to the aching bud of nerves above them, never dipping lower to plunge into you. “Please, Vika.”

“So pretty when you beg,”

You gasp as she presses a finger into you, walls clenching down onto its thickness,

“so pretty when you take my fingers,”

Your walls flutter back open, ready to take the second finger she has poised at your entrance. You practically swallow the two digits, hissing at the fullness, and then, she’s pulling them all the way out,

“always,” a thrust, “so,” then another, “pretty.”

She makes due on her silent promise, fucking into you until you can’t stand on your own. You whine when suddenly, her fingers are completely unsheathed. She just chuckles as she effortlessly turns you around, lifting you up to sit on the counter and slotting herself between your legs.

“You could really stand to have some patience,” she scolds, but the way she smiles into the kiss she leans down to deliver belies her attempt at sternness.

Still, you plan on retorting anyway; that is, until she unbuttons her pants, pulling them down to reveal the strap she’s had on.

“You were packing?” you exhale.

She shimmies out of her pants with a lazy grin. “I was planning on bathroom sex,” she shrugs, before stepping forward to pull your underwear down your legs and toss them who-knows-where. “Looks like I got what I wanted after all.”

You inhale through your teeth when she drags the head of the toy through your slick, your hips bucking up for more.

“Patience, mama,” she warns again. “You’re open for me. Won’t take long.”

You bite down on your lip, brows knit together in pleasure as you watch the silicone slowly sink into you. You’re holding your breath, and you don’t realize she’s been doing the same until she chokes out a grunt at the sight of her strap buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Fuck, Y/n;” she grits, “so fucking good. You’re so fucking good for me.”

You can see her hips stutter with restraint as she tries her best to hold back, tries her best to keep slow and steady as she begins moving in and out of you; but when your hands wrap around her neck, one hand clawing at her shoulder as you spit, “harder,” she unravels.

She pulls you closer by your thighs, and you yelp as her hips snap up into you. Her eyes are glued to the way you take her, cock slipping in and out of your pussy over and over, so easily, so effortlessly.

“Shit,” she rasps, driving into you, “so good. Gods, I love you.”

And when her eyes snap up to meet yours, it’s written all over her face. Her eyes are blown out in pure adoration, like she loves you more than she’s loved anything in her entire life. You can’t help but tear up.

“Woah, hey,” she immediately consoles, coming to a halt inside of you. Her hand reaches up to cup your face, worried eyes scanning you. “Good tears or bad tears?”

“Good tears,” you immediately confirm with a watery smile, “Good tears. Keep going, baby; I just love you, too.”

A breathy chuckle of relief leaves her as she leans in to press her forehead against yours.

She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her chest. You pull her closer, too, breathy moans floating through the air as you rock your hips against the fullness inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you mewl, hand flying down to rub tight circles onto your clit.

“That’s right, baby,” she croons, bringing her hips forward to meet every buck of your own. “Gods, you’re so fucking sexy. Wanna see you come; wanna see your pretty face when you fall apart on my dick.”

The sound of skin on skin joins the chorus of grunts and whines as she picks up her pace again, coaxing you over the edge.

“You gonna come for me? Gonna give it to me?”

You nod frantically, wordlessly, fingers working at your clit, your other hand pulling her closer, closer, until finally, you topple over the edge.

Your legs shake around her waist, nails digging into her shoulder as you cry out.

“There we go,” she purrs, arms holding you close as you ride out the shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

She doesn’t let go. Just holds you, plants kisses all over your face as you catch your breath, whispers praises into your ear as your muscles relax; and only when you let go, does she take a step back, careful as she pulls out, hands massaging the plush of your thighs.

You stare up at her through your lashes, eyes already becoming heavy with sleep as contentment washes over you, warming the blood in your veins.

“Let me clean you up before you pass out,” she teases. “We’re already in the bathroom. That’s half the battle.”

You chuckle, watching with a soft smile as she wets a soft wash cloth with warm water, brushing gently over your sticky thighs, jumping in surprise as it makes contact with your sensitive core.

“Sorry, love,” she mutters apologetically.

She tosses the rag aside, taking your face in both of her hands as she steels herself with a deep breath.

“You know I’m not good with words…”

You giggle at her sudden sentimentality. She refuses to admit it, but she always gets this way after sex: soft, ungaurded, vulnerable. Laid out for you to have and to hold.

“...but you know that I don’t lie either. Ever. So, when I tell you that I’ve never seen someone so goddamn gorgeous, I need you to believe me. Can you do that?”

She raises a brow, lips quirking up into a smile.

You shrug with a smirk. “I’ll try.”

She rolls her eyes playfully before placing a kiss on your temple.

You were stubborn; she knew that much.

But Sevika’s stubborn, too. For the rest of her days, if she can make you feel as gorgeous as she knows you are, even if just for a second, then you’re damn right she’ll spend the rest of her days trying.

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika imagine #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #arcane imagine #arcane smut #sevika one shot #arcane one shot #sevika x y/n

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

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hi! i just read your drabble with remus fixing the readers attitude and i was wondering if you could do the same with sirius? i really loved your other one and seen you were trying to take requests for sirius.

i hope you have a wonderful day!!

Thanks for requesting, hope you have a lovely day as well <3

cw: d/s dynamics, reader has hair troubles and uses products + tries running fingers through it so it's long enough for that

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 991 words

Sirius can hear you fuming from outside the bathroom. Heavy breaths and drawers being shut too harshly and the occasional, frustrated grunt. If it wouldn’t be such a betrayal of you, he’d take a video so Remus can see what he’s like while he’s transforming during a full moon.

“What’s going on in there, gorgeous?” he asks from the bed.

Your reply is nearly a growl. “Nothing.”

“Mm. Yeah, sounds like nothing.” Sirius gets up, going to the bathroom and nudging the door open. He leans against the doorframe as you scowl at yourself in the mirror, wringing product into your hair like you half hope it just tears off. “What’s got you so wound up?”

“Nothing.”

He tuts. “Not any more convincing the second time. Try again.”

You’re pointedly not looking at him, but Sirius notices that your scowl intensifies. “My hair is being fucking unbearable.”

Sirius opens his mouth, but you cut him off.

“And I don’t want to hear that it always looks good, or that you think I look nice no matter what, or any of that bullshit, okay?”

“That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry, sweetness, but I’m not going to start lying to you. Your hair is perfect, and you do always look—”

Your eyes bore into your own reflection, sharp and wrathful. “Don’t.”

Sirius’ eyebrows lift. “I’m sorry, don’t? Don’t compliment my girlfriend, or don’t be honest?”

“Either. I know you’re full of shit, because it looks insane right now, but even if you have miraculously gone blind since this morning, Lily and Alice will be there, and they know what hair should look like when it’s not being so—so—”

“Alright.” Sirius is beginning to grow amused with you. You’re so ridiculous when you’re upset, brash and squinty-eyed and cute. “Save yourself the exertion of finishing that sentence gorgeous. Take a breath.”

“I don’t want to breathe!”

“And yet, we all have to anyway.”

“God, Sirius, fuck off!” You finally lock eyes with him in the mirror, positively fuming. “I knew you wouldn’t get it. I’m trying to look nice for your friends, and you’re making fun of me! If my hair would just—fucking—” You appear to give up on the product, your attention returning to your hair as you begin dragging your fingers through it mercilessly. “—do what I tell it to, maybe then I’d fucking breathe, but instead it’s basically unsalvageable, and—”

“Oi.” Sirius’ humor at the situation has vanished. By the time you think to look at him he has both your hands in his, restrained from doing further damage to yourself. “No. If you’re going to be like this about going to Frank and Alice’s, we won’t go. So is that it, or can you be good?”

Sirius uses the sharp tone he knows you’ll respond to, but really he isn’t angry. He only wants to give you pause. And oh, it’s so sweet to watch the brattiness leave your eyes. The terse pucker of your mouth softens to an almost imperceptible pout, your whole demeanor shifting in an instant.

He takes both your wrists in one hand. With the other, Sirius cups the side of your throat, fingers curled around your nape and thumb rubbing against your erratic pulse.

“I need an answer,” he says.

“Yes,” you say, and your voice is soft, like the sharp edge from a minute ago has been bitten off. “I can.”

“Good.” Sirius allows his tone to gentle some, though he keeps his firm grip on your wrists. “Then you have to relax, baby. Breathe.”

This time, you do as you’re told. It works as he knew it would, your shoulders drooping after the long exhale like the last of the fight has finally gone out of you.

“Thank you.” He touches his lips briefly to the center of your forehead, pretending not to notice how you sway towards him for more. “Now, do you still want to go to Frank and Alice’s tonight?”

You open your mouth, but this time it’s Sirius who stops you.

“Wait. Really think about it. Are you going to enjoy yourself, or are you going to spend the whole time feeling weird about your hair?”

You hesitate, rubbing your lips together. Sirius strokes his thumb down the line of your throat approvingly.

“I still think I want to go,” you say after a few moments.

“Okay.” Sirius nods. “Then you’re going to let me braid your hair for you. You’ll look just as lovely and perfect as you do now, but you won’t be able to mess with it any more. Does that sound alright to you?”

Your relief is palpable. You let out a breath, eyes growing suspiciously bright. “Yeah. That would be great, thank you.”

“Okay, come here.” Sirius releases your neck and wrists to wrap his arms around you. He presses his lips to your lovely, perfect hair while you curl your hands in his shirt as if to keep him from slipping away. Like Sirius would ever want to. “Shh. You’re fine, baby. Ease up.”

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you mumble against his front.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. You did it more than once, if I recall.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He laughs a little, hugging you tighter. “It’s okay. You get a hair insanity pass, just this once. Let’s have a good night, okay?”

You let out another sigh. Sirius rubs your back reflexively. “Yes, please.”

“M’kay. Let’s go.” He starts ushering you towards the bed, grabbing a couple of hair ties on his way out of the bathroom. “We’re done with the mirror for today. And no yelling at me while I do your hair, got it?”

You try on a coy smile; it’s small, but Sirius respects the effort. “I could never yell at you.”

“Uh huh. I may forgive, but I don’t forget that easily, sweetness. Try it again and we’ll be staying home to deal with that attitude of yours.”

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burymagdalene · 6 months ago

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New Year's Wish - S. Reid x Reader

In which reader has to "deal" with their horny boyfriend attached to their hip all night, leading them to sort him out in the bathroom.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Fluff & Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: subbyish spencer, semi-public sex, fondling, masturbation (m receiving) just a bit of crying, overstimulation.. smut, and love! wc: 2.2k. a/n: My first fic that came to fruition after a flu spell! I had a vision for the vibe of this but didn't know how to attach them in the cute 3 pictures above a fanfiction way.. sorry-- I DID IT

New Year’s Eve always feels like that holiday where you always have high hopes for, but consistently falls flat. Luckily, this year you have your sweet boyfriend, Spencer by your side to help you through the social interactions with mutual friends all night. Though, the alcohol helps alongside that as well.

You’re looking into the mirror with squinted eyes at your reflection, analyzing what more to add to your outfit as Spencer gawks at you from your bed. “Spence, should I have my striped tights with this dress, or no tights? I’m worried I’ll be freezing.”

Spencer forcibly peels his eyes away from your curves in the tight dark gray dress you have on. “Tights. Yeah.” He pulls his lips in for a polite smile.

“Roger that!” You walk over to retrieve the tights from your dresser, Spencer’s music plays softly from a speaker and you sway along to it, “I like this one.” You walk back over to your boyfriend who still sits rigidly on your bed, despite how many times he’s been in it.

“Would you like to do the honors?” With a hand reached out, you display the tights to Spencer.

Spencer gives you a full-tooth grin, “Why yes I would” and pats the space next to him on your bed. You dramatically plop down as Spencer stands up, between your legs. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you smile at Spencer as he starts to pull one of your stocking legs up your foot. Slowly shimmying it up, he traces over your ankle and up your calf.

“I’m a little nervous for tonight, I haven’t been to this house party in a couple years, but it was pretty fun last time,” you make conversation. Your good friend Tatum had invited you and Spencer to come to a New Year’s Eve house party at her boyfriend, Eric’s house. You had been a few years prior in support of her endeavors of seducing said Eric, which obviously went well.

Spencer hums and once the other leg has been covered, takes your hands to pull you up so that you’re standing and he can pull the tights up your waist. His hands flip your dress up to pull over your underwear and straighten it back down once the tights are on. “So pretty,” he starts laughing “you look so pretty you don’t have to be nervous about anything ever.”

“Shut up,” you giggle and pull him by his neck in for a kiss. “Let’s go, the sooner we leave the sooner I can rummage through Eric's stuff.”

Within 30 minutes you have arrived at Eric's, made pleasantries, taken a shot with your friend and some of her friends you pretend to know the names of, and are sitting on the couch side-by-side with Spencer, who has his hand freakishly high up your thigh.

Conversation goes better than your pre-party nerves prompted you to believe, there’s a good amount of people so that you can watch, and the wine being served was not bitterly disgusting.

Spencer now rests his head on your shoulder, his side pressed neatly up against yours as he draws mindless circles into your patterned tights. He slowly moves up to your ear “kiss?” he mumbles softly.

You position yourself so you're craning down a bit to make eye contact, and raise a suspicious eyebrow. PDA is not something Spencer is obsessed with, so kissing in a room with a large group of people should’ve been your first warning of how Spencer was feeling tonight. Regardless, you relent, how could you not kiss him in any circumstance? You lean down and peck him softly.

Spencer sighs into the kiss, and sighs even harder when you pull away. You giggle and poke his side softly with your index finger. “I think we’re supposed to save all the kissing for midnight, love.”

He lazily laughs, shifts his head and plants a wet kiss onto your exposed neck, which causes you to blush with how open he’s being in front of everyone. “Who made that rule,” he whines “I thought you’re allowed to kiss whenever but are supposed to especially kiss at midnight.”

“Hmm, well actually I don’t kno-” he cuts you off with a giggle and a firm kiss to your lips. You pull away, blush covering your face. “Okay.. ummm” you fidget a bit and stand up for a moment after plotting, pulling Spencer up by his hands.

You take him upstairs to the bathroom for guests of the host, not the bathroom downstairs for every other partygoer, and shut the door behind you both. “Spencer!” you laugh as he softly pushes you up against the door and whines a pitiful “sorry” between the kisses he’s peppering on your neck and chest.

Your eyes instinctively flutter shut for a moment as you whisper “just for a bit.. I wanna hang out some more still…”

Spencer laughs against your neck, “yeah, sure.” You shake your head in disbelief at how cocky he is, well, rightfully is. He pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ears, eyes staring at your face. Spencer trails his hands from where they’re cupping your face slowly down your neck, tracing your skin, to where your dress scoops down on your chest. “This dress.. So perfect.” He smiles at you.

“Hmm, thank you. Thought that you might like it.” You play with his tie around his neck, untightening it just a bit. You use it as leverage to pull him towards the sink, which you are now hopping up on to take a seat. Spencer menuevers himself between your legs, wraps his hands around your waist and deepens the kiss.

Typically, it shouldn’t shock you that Spencer can get hard relatively quickly when kissing you, because you yourself are getting a little shifty with desire as the kiss continues. However, the firmness of his boner against your inner thigh makes you want to mock him for it anyway.

“Spencer! You’re hard!” You laugh and push him back a little so you can look at it. Though you enjoy embarrassing him for it, the desire you have to immediately look at it, touch it, talk about it, reveals how excited you are about it.

Spencer lets his head fall back, “I can’t help it! Please stay here a little longer.” He begs softly with a grin of amusement.

You trace your fingertips down his button up shirt and unbutton the bottom three buttons slowly, moving them to his side so you can properly graze your nails against where his happy trail begins above his pants. “I dunno…” you tease and work your hand around the outline of his dick through his trousers, a rush of air blowing out of Spencer's nose. “It sounds like they’re having a lot of fun down there.”

“I could be having a lot of fun down there!” Spencer quips, referring to his boner that's painfully twitching against his leg now.

Testing his limits, you slip away from him and jump back down to the floor, readjusting your dress. “How about you just take care of yourself baby?” You joke, expecting a huff and a petulant eye roll coming from Spencer in return.

Instead, he lets out a deep sigh immediately followed by a quiet “kay,” as he quickly unbuckles his belt, stunning you.

You stare at his ministrations, quite frantic with how desperately he’s trying to take his dick out. Spencer pulls his underwear down just enough so that he can grip himself, his leaky tip not going unnoticed with the carefully constructed bathroom mood lighting.

Spencer takes his shaky hand and carefully rubs his tip with his palm covering it, he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure as his jaw drops.

Your jaw is also dropped as you watch your boyfriend whine with every tug he’s giving his dick. You’re stuck between staying and watching, maybe even giving this poor soul a break and helping him out, and continuing your teasing nature with getting ready to go back downstairs. You two make eye contact in the mirror.

You pull up your purse from the ground onto the sink, rummaging through it to find your lipstick. Looking in the mirror, it's all smudged off and your hair is a bit of a ruffled mess with how Spencer’s fingers were just pulling through it.

Spencer continues to work himself staring at you in the reflection. You apply your lip liner and he twists his fist around his dick, a small trail of precum dripping from his knuckles. You take out your ruddy lipstick and he grabs the counter with one hand, watching and working desperately hard to keep his eyes trained on your reflection. “Ah, my god, baby-” Spencer mumbles, the high pitched tone in his voice indicating just how unfair you’re being towards him.

You gulp, feigning apathy, and toss your hair a bit in the mirror, fixing some strands and making it look like you were not being groped in the bathroom moments prior. Giving Spencer an award winning smile in the mirror he grips the base of his dick, holding off the inevitable so he can stare a little bit longer at you in the mirror.

Reaching over beside him to grab toilet paper, ignoring how his whines escalate as your body brushes his, you put the small piece of paper between your lips, dabbing off access lipstick onto it. You look over at Spencer's pinched eyebrows and hand him the toilet paper with your lipstick stain with a chuckle.

Spencer makes a high pitched “mmn” as he grabs the paper, shaking his head at the situation, embarrassed with himself. Between his pointer and middle finger of his left hand the toilet paper is held loosely, his right hand starts moving up and down again.

Shuffling from side to side, every pass of his fist, every soft moan, makes your legs numb to the directions from your brain screaming at them to leave the room, join the festivities downstairs. “Jesus, Spence.” Your eyes travel directly to where he’s pumping himself, breaking eye contact.

“Don’t want you to go,” he mumbles again. You can tell by the way he’s talking, mumbling and hushed that he’s focused only on cumming now. “Want, uh… wanna watch you till I-”

As much as you pride yourself in being a nonchalant, charismatic tease, the way your boyfriend's bottom lip quivers and his eyes wet, you absolutely cannot bring yourself to leave his shaking frame to cum in solitude. You’re not evil!

So you scoot towards him, butt pressing against the sink again as you pull Spencer in by the tie, sucking a mark into his flushed neck. He gasps and runs his thumb over the spot below his tip that makes him see stars and cums all over the lipstick printed toilet paper you gave him. The right side of Spencer’s neck now sporting the same lipstick print.

The first time you try to help him out through this process is also a form of torture for Spencer. You push his hand aside and grip him yourself, sticky cum covering your hand immediately as he sucks in a sharp breath “I dunno..” he says through gritted teeth.

You pump him into overstimulation as he rocks his hips into and away from your fist, not knowing if he wants to accept the red hot pleasure coming from your hand right now or to hide from it. Pressing your body close to his was a mistake since now your pretty striped tights now have a suspiciously cum-looking stain on them.

“S-sorry,” Spencer feebly makes out as he catches his cum rolling down the fabric. “Shitt.” He draws out and squeezes his eyes shut in remorse and the only reaction you have is to laugh. The dramatics of his cum on your leg not impacting you as hard as Spencer, who is the one with oxytocin flowing down to his toes.

You hum softly, slow your hand down his softening length and run your clean hand through his hair, moving it from his face. “That's okay baby, feel good?” Smiling dreamily at him, he cracks his weepy eyes open with a nod.

“You actually c-cannot put that dress on again. I feel like a neanderthal.” Spencer's head falls against your shoulder.

“Huh, well you might be in luck because I’m not sure I can put this dress on again because there is a gnarly cumstain on the bottom of it now.” You tease lightly and take his jaw in your hand for a kiss.

Spencer winces and looks down, “Nuh uh! Just the tights. Cruel woman.”

The efforts you made to make yourself presentable earlier had to be repeated, alongside Spencer who you cleaned up with toilet paper and dabbed his eyes dry again. The two of you had actually missed the countdown into New Year which you are sure is because Spencer was whining too loudly for you two to hear the “3…2..1..” from voices downstairs, but most likely you two were kissing anyway, so whatever the rule is for kissing on New Years, you and Spencer rang in the New Year properly.

#spencer reid #smut #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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satoruxx · 24 days ago

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THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 9k words

✧ SUMMARY: this fic has always been 18+ but now especially I MEAN IT mdni, toji gets horny fr this time (like 2.5k words of just that), masturbation, toji gets turned on by love idk, rut/heat cycles, basically abo/hybrid mating tendencies, idk let me write my porn sigh, misogyny, um stalking, more hybrid mistreatment, talks of murder, the typical blood as a metaphor for love :/

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: lol okay i'm vv sorry for the six month absence.. had to get that degree :33 but hopefully this chapter being 9k words and having horny toji makes up for it.. however pls do heed the warnings! i yap a lot about mating and other abo things so if that's not your thing pls scroll TT.. anyways i'm thanking you all so much for your patience !! hope you enjoy <33

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"pause."

toji's form stops abruptly, and you bite back a chuckle when he turns to glare at you over his shoulder. "what?"

you grin, rocking back on your heels even as the rest of the street continues bustling around you. "i'm hungry."

the street's lights reflect over toji's facial features, and the way his jaw drops looks extra comical. "already? we just had dinner."

you frown, affronted. "that was like an hour ago."

toji snorts, rolling his eyes, though it comes off fonder than you expected it to. "so you want dessert?"

you nod eagerly, and a muted chuckle escapes the wolf as you catch up to his side. his jade eyes scan the lively streets critically, before falling on you again. "well, go crazy."

you immediately grab his wrist and tug him along, peering at different stalls and stores despite his protests. toji ends up just crossing his arms as he waits for you to buy your dessert (ice cream, you've decided. on a cone). he watches you grin as you pay and then hurry over to him, both of your hands full.

"here," you chirp, shoving a cone into his hand. a few melted drops stain his skin, still cold to the touch. "for you!"

he huffs. "kid, i told you i don't like sweets that much."

"that's what you say at first." you point your finger at him as you lick up the dripping sides of your own cone, gaze all too knowing. "but then you try it and realize you can't get enough."

toji rolls his eyes, but still obediently takes a lick. the flavor of chocolates and some other sweet confections burst across his tongue. it's strong, almost unbearably so, but then it settles on his palate and leaves a satisfaction in its wake. he can't help the subtle twitch of his lips, almost pleased, and you give him a smug smile.

(it seems like he will always be doomed when it comes to sweet things.)

you both walk home in relative silence, save for the occasional bit of chatter when you remember something you haven't told him. the streets are still bright and bustling with people trying to enjoy their saturday night, and toji feels a little more comfortable because it's so easy to blend in.

"are you sure you don't want me to hold those?" you ask pointedly, peering at all the shopping bags he's balancing on his arms. "aren't they heavy?"

he gives you a sidelong glance—affronted. "seriously? how weak do you think i am?"

you raise your free hand in surrender, biting back a laugh as you look at him with that same spark of a challenge in your eyes. "don't you sleep with a nightlight?"

toji's glare is boiling when it settles on you. "shut up and eat your ice cream."

you chortle, nudging his side with your elbow, and he groans under his breath. his fingers itch. it would be so fucking easy to just grab your free hand that's swinging listlessly at your side. the lines of his large, rough palm pressed against your smaller, gentle one. his fingers would curl around yours so gratefully, sweet and soft and yet still keeping you attached to him.

(he can't elaborate on how pleased the thought makes him. keeping you at his side, where he can always see you. where you can always see him.)

but all he can do is clench his fist, internally reprimanding himself for taking such liberties with you to begin with—even if it's just in his own head.

when you both make it back home, you hop in the shower quick and then toji takes his turn, so used to the mundane routine. he heads into the bathroom, not before making a sarcastic jab at your choice of pajamas for the night (doughnuts, printed in all shapes and colors), to which you just punch his arm as he cackles.

toji enjoys the feeling of the searing hot water burning into his skin. psychopathic maybe, but it feels comforting. it's not like he was given the luxury of hot water back when he was underground.

(that being said, even once he'd started living with you, it's not like he took hot showers often. in fact, he'd sometimes find himself relying on cold showers. especially when you were around him. a fleeting touch here, a meaningful glance there, and he'd find himself under pelting ice, breathing heavily through his nose until he's finally got himself under control.)

even now he tries not to think too deeply about that, focusing on enjoying his warm shower. he feels a little guilty when he stops to consider that you probably have no idea that his thoughts about you are so fucking depraved.

(poor thing. you don't deserve something so unhinged breathing down your neck.)

and unfortunately that's all he truly is. unhinged. an animal that lacks self control. and you are nothing of the sort. sweetness and good all bundled up into a human being. night and day, dark and light, sun and storm.

good and evil.

toji knows this well. knows that he has no right to let his claws tear into your perfect flesh and rip you to pieces. only monsters ruin perfection after all.

and perfection you were. he knows you don't really see yourself that way, but it's hard for him not to. reminds him of statue deities the old artists left behind to stand in museums under heavy spotlights. for people to flock to, eager and awestruck as they marvel at beauty like they've never seen it before. and he'd bow front of you, knees digging into rough earth, bloody and bruised as he reaches for your marbled fingers. letting stone gently tickle the sharp curve of his jaw, trace the scar cutting over his lips. maybe when he finally looks up at you he'll only remember your smile immortalized into the stone.

but toji is selfish. he doesn't want to worship a statue. he'd rather have you as is, life thrumming through your veins the way blood does. warmth bursting from under your skin and seeping into his own. and there's a part of him that knows you'd touch him so eagerly, ready to please and give him everything that he's ever wanted. you've already been so generous—giving and giving and giving some more. if he asked to let him take you apart, would you dare say no? would you let him sort through sinew and muscle until he's found your very core? would you let him hold your beating heart in his claws no matter how many times they nick the flesh and make you bleed?

you would, with stars in your eyes. in fact, there's a greedy part of him that thinks you'd do the same in return. tear him apart piece by piece with careful fingers until he's nothing but laid bare in front of you. press your flesh against ragged scars and bruised skin, rough with use and danger. if he focuses a little harder, he can feel your touch linger on those scars. your lips will follow, pressing deep against his blood, staining you wine red. but you'll just smile, light bursting behind your silhouette (angelic; awe-inspiring), and he'll once again be speechless in front of you.

(powerless in every sense of the word.)

this is followed by yet another dangerous thought—just how much of an animal would you let him be?

it would be easy to cage you between his arms, close enough that he can count every eyelash and see every shade in your skin. it would be easy to hook his claws around the waistband of the fabric that hid you away, press a searing kiss into the stripe left by the elastic. it would be easy to reduce you to a shaking mess, quiet whimpers escaping into the space only he shares with you.

it's ridiculous, how quickly his obsession bleeds into arousal. a thin line, his toes dancing over it. but he doesn't have it in him to dwell on the shame behind it. it's instantaneous, how heat starts thrumming through his veins at the thought of you, alighting every expanse of flesh and breaking through skin.

toji bristles, tail flexing even under the weight of the water.

you have to know what you're doing. weren't you ever warned about dangers like him? wasn't it common sense not to dangle prey in front of a predator's eyes?

(though, if he's being honest, toji doesn't feel like much of predator. if anything, you're the predator, circling him with attentive eyes that makes his hair stand on end. makes him want to expose his underbelly and let you pounce.)

it doesn't make sense to him, how his mind relates someone as sweet as you to a role so unflinchingly unkind. in reality, the only one who's fucked enough to take on that role is him. the true animal—unhinged, reckless, cruel.

the only one who'd dig his fangs into your flesh and tear you apart with no hesitation. let sweet blood drip from his lips, lapping away until not a drop is left. reverent—because he knows how valuable it is.

the problem is you'd let him.

welcoming, with open arms and a warm smile that makes him want to take even more. more and more until nothing is left.

(would you enjoy it? his claws encircling your fragile wrists and pressing them into sheets. heavy body weighing yours down, scarred muscle meeting soft flesh. fanged teeth digging into the tender meat of your lips. perhaps you'd tell him as much, quietly sighing into his mouth, singing his praises and whispering a sweet combination of toji please, more.)

blood rushes south, his cock hardening so quick it's almost humiliating. this had been an ongoing issue for months now. toji never thought anyone would have the ability to drive him up the walls like this. not that you had gone around deliberately trying to give him a hard time (no pun intended), but it'd become more difficult to ignore. even just noticing little things—like the texture of your fingertips against his skin or the way your scent bleeds into the walls of the house. or the way his height towers over you and forces you to look up at him in a way that is so easy to imagine in certain other scenarios. in between his legs, gentle hands on his knees, eyes peering through lashes, and swollen lips wrapped around his—

fuck.

he's rock hard now. thick and aching in a way that makes him feel almost ashamed because there's no reason he should be acting like a whelpling who's just been thrown into a rut for the first time. no, he'd been an adult for a long time. one that had gotten through a lot worse than this.

(it's seared into his brain, the way the faceless doctor from the underground would hand him suppressant pills a couple weeks before a rut was due to hit, eyeing him to make sure they were swallowed without any issues. his body remembers scratching at the stone ground of a cell as he snarled through the pain of one of his most natural instincts being manipulated through a drug.

it was normal for them. every hybrid there had experienced being put aside for a day or two, labeled "out of commission" for a fake sick period while they rode out their cycles with no help or relief.

what would've normally been a couple weeks of rut was cruelly suppressed into two short days. in that time, toji was confined to a special cell with no outside contact. no fights, no interactions with any other hybrid.

all he had was the time to get increasingly more feral and frustratingly turned on. and no way to deal with it but ruthlessly fucking his own fist until he was exhausted.

exhausted, but never satiated. never satisfied.

after all, the suppressant pills couldn't erase the nature of his instincts. the part of him that craved not for a simple release, but for the experience of sharing a rut with someone. craved forming a connection with another being who could not only provide relief through it, but also take every bit of devotion he had to offer. the pills were effective in dulling down the intensity of ruts and heats, and shortened the length of them tremendously. but even after all that, they were still animals—there was no denying it. no, none of it could be erased; the instinctual craving for a fucking mate.)

all of those years under suppressants had made toji forget what a real rut felt like. but if it's anything close to the way he'd been feeling lately, he was definitely screwed. his mind had become increasingly more creative, able to conjure up the most inappropriate images of his most shameful fantasies. and this issue could only be fixed by jacking off until cum was dripping between his fingers and he felt even more ashamed than he did before.

which is exactly what he's being pushed to right now.

it seems almost instantaneous the way his fist wraps around his cock, throbbing flesh hot and angry. he bites back a hiss at the sensitivity, the hot water doing nothing to help his already searing flesh.

toji knew to start expecting flare ups of arousal. after all it was just a part of his nature, but a headache all the same. unfortunately, when escaping that hellhole he called a home, he didn't think about what would happen to his body now that those bastards weren't pumping his body full of suppressants.

sukuna had once said that it was their way of stripping them of their natural instructs, domesticating hybrids without them even knowing. the thought had pissed both of them off, but the tiger was right. nothing inherently natural about controlling such a significant facet of their bodies.

if he had more time to prepare his escape, he would've broken into the medical wing and stolen a few years' worth of suppressants for himself.

hindsight. instead, now he has to deal with these admittedly intense pangs of carnal desire. he knows why. how long had it been since he'd had a natural rut? definitely not since eighteen, because that's when he'd given up his freedom and they started feeding him suppressants (after all, can't have a feral wolf in rut running free throughout the barracks; bad for business; too dangerous to control). it makes sense that his body is working on overdrive now that it's finally tasted freedom.

(finally tasted a sweet scent and warm smile.)

toji isn't sure what he'll do when his rut really hits. he had thought that maybe he could get away with lying to you, passing it off as some contagious sickness and locking himself in his room for a few days until it passed. but then he got nervous thinking about just how bad this rut might be, and he figured he probably wouldn't be able to keep it from you even with the walls acting as a barrier.

there was also the option of telling you the truth. you'd probably be so accepting about it; after all, you've been nothing but understanding. and it seems like you know more about hybrids than your fellow humans, so he's sure you wouldn't judge him for something he can't really control. and yet despite all that, the thought of telling you feels strangely nerve wracking. some strange implication behind admitting just how vulnerable he'd truly be (and some sick thrill at the unspoken boundary that could end up being crossed).

a boundary line that he had scratched into the floor over and over again. so intent on denying the thought of ever being that close to you.

and yet he can't deny it. can't deny that the idea of trailing his tongue over the swells and divots of your body doesn't make him salivate. like the thought of your lips pressing into the ridges of his neck doesn't make his ribcage jump.

(like the thought of you saying yes to him doesn't make him want to lay the entire galaxy at your feet. because saying yes to him means something more than you'll ever realize. means bonding yourself to him for a lifetime. souls intertwined, the way only a mate can be—)

toji's presses his forehead against the damp tiled wall, exhaling shakily. there's a reddish pink shade crawling up his skin, spreading like liquid gold. his fist feels like nothing special, but it still offers a semblance of relief from that stupid aching feeling. the warmth of the water and the remnants of soap makes it easy for his fist to slide back and forth, and god he's so fucking hard. he's starting off fast, but he doesn't really care. all he knows is that it feels good, and it's utterly humiliating to be jacking off in the shower when you're just across the hall, so he just wants to get it over with.

but his brain? his brain lingers, cruel in its torture.

if he closes his eyes, toji can picture you doing it instead. your hand's a lot smaller, but it's softer than his—not rough with scars and callouses and danger. maybe you'd touch him slower, not as stupidly fast as he is, not with the mission to just get off and be done. no, you'd probably touch him with intention, eager to take him apart. he'd be glad to let you do as you please, so pathetically ready for whatever you want from him.

his fangs dig into the scar cutting over his lip, almost hard enough to taste blood. he thinks about sinking those fangs into the open canvas of your neck, and his dick twitches in response, eager and swollen. he tightens his grip and twists his wrist in the same way he's always done, knowing it'll get him there quick.

toji's head presses harder into the tiled walls, and he blinks the water away from his eyes as he tries to focus. his brain conjures up a strikingly detailed image of you pressing your lips against his dick, and that itself shoots a searing hot flash of arousal up his spine. but that's not all. he imagines that you'd be a lot more generous with your touches than he is. you'd touch him all over, gentle fingers tracing over the curve of his jaw and over the slopes of his cheeks. down over the planes of his chest and the ridges of his abs. gentle, the way only a lover's caress could be. chills run over his skin, the shiver so pleasurable it makes his breath hitch.

his high creeps up frighteningly fast, tingles shooting up the nerves in his body like he's never touched himself before. the muscles in his arm strain as heat pools in his lower belly, licking at his insides like an uncontrollable flame. the sound of the soapy water each time his hand moves is embarrassingly inappropriate, and he's briefly struck with the filthy thought of the type of sounds he'd be able to pull from your body if you just gave him the chance.

he wonders where to touch you to make you sing. where you'd be the most sensitive. what spots would have your voice catching on a strangled moan or have a breathy whimper escaping your throat. maybe you'd beg him for more, or perhaps you'd demand it from him. maybe you'd give in finally tell him what he's been dying to hear. in that same sweet voice, quietly sighing an earnest toji, i love y—

ropes of cum splatter between his fingers, and he's thankful that his muffled grunts are drowned out by the shower. his hips twitch, instinctual, and his dick pulses with every spurt, pelvic muscles contracting with effort. and throughout all of it, all he can think of is you.

(horrible, he is. so dirty, filthy.)

"ah fuck—" he feels messy, and hypersensitive. he stands there for a minute, catching his breath and doing his best to quell the mess in his head. it takes all but a minute to wash away the evidence of his crimes, but the thoughts of you still linger—infectious and deep.

(he thinks maybe he'll never be rid of you. you've latched onto him the way he has to you—parasitic and flesh deep. some part of him really likes that; a sick and twisted part.)

the wolf huffs out a tired sigh, standing under the pelting water like some kind of mindless idiot. what kind of freak was he? you offer him a place in your home and here he was jerking off in your shower with nothing but filth in his head. he's terrible; a dirty animal.

and yet, he feels good. feels good in the same way he feels when he sees you smile. or when you finally come back home. or when you grin at him from across the dining table as you watch him dig into his food. or when you accidentally fall asleep while watching some stupid movie.

his brain is foggy, and there's still a few aftershocks of pleasure tickling his nerves. but his guilt is smothered by that good feeling, pressed down into the deep recesses of his subconscious as he focuses on how you seem to have such an influence on his emotions.

(powerful, sneaky little thing.)

"hey toji?"

your muffled voice cuts through the pleasant haze in his head, and the panic is instant. he flinches so hard his elbow thuds against the shower wall, eliciting a yelp that he tries hard to recover from.

"y-yeah?!" he winces at the voice crack (trying to pretend he didn't just bust to the thought of you not a minute earlier), and clears his throat.

"i'm running low on period stuff so i'm gonna run down the street and grab some pads."

"i can go grab em if you want?" he replies, scrubbing his skin with a quickening pace, but then you chuckle and wave him off.

"no no it's fine. enjoy your shower. it's like two streets over, i'll be back soon."

"well…" he hesitates, but then nods even though you can't see him. "fine. be careful, y'hear?"

"yeah yeah…" your voice fades away as you head down the hall, and toji's shoulders relax. for a second he thought you might've somehow heard his less than appropriate little session, but instead you're just updating him on something he probably wouldn't have cared about many months ago. but here he is, ultimately caring so deeply.

hot water streams between toji's eyes, and he pushes his wet hair back with a tired huff. his ears fold under his palms, muffling all noises and for a second, the raging thoughts in his head subside.

(if it were up to him, he'd stay in this peaceful bubble for as long as he could. hoping, dreaming, praying that you'd join him in the space with no protests. comfort, chaos, and everything in between.)

****

the streets are a lot more deserted than they were a few hours prior, back when you were dragging toji to eat ice cream. now there's only faint chatter, the occasional squeals of laughter and excitement permeating the sounds of your slippers against pavement. normally you would've dragged toji out with you, especially so late on a saturday night, but since this is barely a 15 minute walk and you've been here countless times before, you decided not to bother him.

after all, you would grant toji as much peace as you could give him (god knows he deserved it and more).

there's some faint song playing over the speakers when you enter the store, instantly fading into muted background noise as you smile at the elderly man behind the counter. he recognizes you, a local frequenter, and smiles back before going back to the paper he was reading. your steps take you to the feminine products quickly, memorized route guiding your feet, and then you're scanning the shelves for familiar colors and brands.

the store is almost completely deserted, save for a few other likeminded individuals who needed a late night run. your fingers drift over boxes until you finally find the brand you like.

"excuse me? can you help me with this?"

the flinch that comes from you is almost embarrassing, but you're genuinely impressed by how quietly this guy seems to have snuck up on you. you glance over your shoulder carefully.

dyed blonde hair, dark roots, narrowed beady eyes. and yet a sheepish, awkward smile that makes your shoulders drop when you notice the box of pads in his head. you tilt your head questioningly, quirking a brow. he raises the box. "my girlfriend sent me out to get supplies but i have no clue what to pick for her…"

the helpless smile that crawls onto your face feels natural. at least he was trying, that in and of itself was a lot to ask for these days. "well do you know if she has a heavy flow or a light one?"

"heavy i think?" his brows furrow thoughtfully. "she says she bleeds a lot…"

"well then this is probably better for her than that." you reach for a different box on the shelf, one that's specifically labeled for handling heavy bleeding. "they're better for heavier flow. and they're longer so that should help her out."

he takes the box from you carefully, before smiling. something shines in his dark eyes. "thank you so much. i'm clueless when it comes to this stuff."

you chuckle, shaking your head. "no it's okay. at least you're trying."

"i would've been lost without your help. i'm naoya by the way." his smile gets a little more pointed, that gleam in his gaze brighter. he sticks his palm out expectantly.

warning bells start ringing in your head, but you don't know why.

"oh uh, nice to meet you…" you trail off, cautiously taking his hand. you're sure he's being polite, but you don't really understand why he's telling you his name. maybe it's paranoia, but you bite your tongue and hold off on giving him yours, something telling you that maybe you shouldn't be sharing that information.

the blonde doesn't comment on your lack of forthcoming, but something feels off. he looks like he knows something, like he's dissecting you on a surgical table. you let go of his hand, and awkwardly smile, before turning back to the shelf. his voice gets a little louder. "naoya zenin."

you freeze. the name washes over you, a brief sense of warmth, before it bleeds into something cold and jarring. you know this name well—heard it murmured from scarred lips a few times (in a voice that was filled with nothing but distaste.)

now if you think back, you can remember the same blonde hair and dark eyes being in the background of pictures you've seen on the internet. random news articles of what the head of one of the biggest companies in the country did that day. you don't know why you couldn't remember it earlier. maybe you just weren't expecting to see naoya zenin at your tiny little store so late at night. but he looks calm, as though it's all intentional, as though you should've expected to bump in to him like this.

the warning bells ring louder.

"so!" the blonde claps his hands together, brightly smiling as though he's catching up with an old friend. "how is he?"

you feel your tongue grow numb. an image of a moody scowl and twitching ears flashes behind your eyes, and you finally realize that warning bells had nothing to do with your own safety.

(too preoccupied with dedicating your care to someone else. someone who's probably patiently waiting for you back home.)

"who?" you're playing dumb, and you're sure he knows it because he just laughs and quirks his brow knowingly.

"you know who." he pins you with a level stare. "toji of course. my precious cousin."

you remain quiet, mind spinning. you're not sure if you should lie or continue playing dumb or just run and hope he isn't fast enough to follow. but naoya just continues on without a care in the world.

"let's stop beating around the bush." the blonde's smile drops, voice going serious in the same way you've seen it go on those television interviews. "i don't know how or why you're connected to him but i'm sure you know what he is by now."

"ah yes the wolf ears and tail really gave it away," you reply sarcastically, not even bothering to keep the bite out of your tone. naoya grins predatorily, making a show of leering at your blatant hostility.

"well yes, the poor beast was unfortunately born that way." naoya waves offhandedly, before his expression sours. "just my luck, he had to be born into my fucking family."

you snort out a scornful laugh, crossing your arms. "well it makes sense. i mean he might be the wolf, but it's pretty clear that dogs run in the family."

naoya pauses, before his smile returns. this time, it is icy, and yet there is spark of malice flickering in his eyes. "hah! you're more interesting than i thought. you look so boring from afar, you know?"

you glare at him irritably.

"but! you're much more entertaining than i expected. maybe that's why toji's hanging around you." naoya glances down at his fingernails with feigned interest, his voice dropping. "it's a shame he didn't teach you any manners though."

his hand drops to his side, and his expression darkens so fast it makes your head spin. "if it were up to me, i'd cut your tongue out and deliver it to him, you know?"

your bravado shatters, blood going cold. naoya seems to catch the change, so he just smiles again with that fake politeness. "but father says we should be nice and talk it out. so that's what i'm doing! i had no clue how i was going to find the time to chat with you, but i'm glad i caught you today."

you swallow, fingers creasing into the sleeves of your sweater.

"you know, when i told father i saw toji with you today, he was surprised. that freak doesn't seem like the type to get help from others, let alone humans like you and me." the blonde hums, amused. "but seems like he liked something about you. that, or you had something pretty valuable to offer."

you almost roll your eyes. clearly this asshole liked to hear himself talk.

"i mean i'm kinda surprised that you got close to that freak. don't you have any survival instincts?" he tuts, exaggeratedly pouting at you like you're nothing but a dumb child. the blood in your veins grows hot with indignation.

"he's not dangerous." your voice is resolute, stating a fact rather than an opinion. naoya observes you with mild interest. he hums thoughtfully, and you shift your weight not knowing what to do.

"you know, i saw you both being all cute on your little shopping trip." naoya's expression turns bored, almost like he's disgusted. he leans against the shelves haphazardly. "it's a shame i lost you both in the crowd as you left though. i would've stopped by at your house otherwise."

the threat is not lost on you. and something churns in your gut when you think about this man being anywhere near your house. near toji.

"i don't understand," you say, raising your head. you have no clue how you manage to keep your voice steady when your heart is beating so fast, but you'd rather not look too deep into that. "what exactly is it that you want from me?"

"you have…influence," naoya grins, peering at you. his expression is mocking. you think you might vomit. "i'm sure you can bat your eyes and convince my dear cousin."

when you swallow, it feels like rocks are sliding down your throat. "convince him to what?"

naoya's grin drops, eyes narrowing dangerously. "to go back to where he belongs."

your words tumble forth before you can even stop them, hot and indignant. "and what if he doesn't want to go back there?"

a burst of laughter escapes his throat, though it is sharp and unamused. "don't you get it? he doesn't have a choice. that's all he was born to do anyway."

you glare at him, teeth digging into your tongue so hard it hurts painfully. naoya's expression turns bright, a very dramatic flare of sick amusement filling his tone. "ohh i finally get it!"

he leans closer to you, smirking. "who would've thought my dear cousin went and found himself a girl!"

the traitor organ sitting in your ribcage gives an eager jump, getting distracted by its original threat. you steel your expression. "what are you even talking about?"

"no need to play coy. i understand!" he raises his arms like he means no harm, a greasy smile still splitting his face. "that just means you really should be able to influence him."

"you don't even know what you're saying." you roll your eyes, turning away from him, though you still keep his figure in your peripheral. "it's not even like that. we're barely even friends. the most i would say is acquaintances."

the lie bleeds through your teeth easily, molten lava. worth it if it means keeping him safe. away from the treacherous vines that seem so intent on chasing him and pinning him down.

"oh sure." the blonde chuckles, looking at you with a sharp mockery in his gaze. it's obvious he doesn't believe you, especially with how quickly his tone turns chilling. "i don't really give a damn who you are to him. let him know what he needs to do, or we're gonna have a problem."

"and if i can't convince him?"

naoya shrugs casually, but then he pins you with a stare that makes you feel like your bone marrow is turning to lead.

"well then, we'll just have to see what happens, won't we?" he says nothing more, but the implication is very clear. the blonde then glances down at the pads in his hands. his expression goes disgusted once more, and he haphazardly chucks the box back onto the shelf. "ew…" he mutters, dusting his hand over his coat. his eyes find you again, and then that same smile appears once more. "anyways, i'll definitely see you around! get home safe!"

your pulse is thudding wildly as you watch him leave, a heavy onset of nausea making your stomach churn like never before. the hidden threats were so carefully placed, but not obscure enough for you to miss, and that scares you even more because it says that this guy is just that confident. you stand in the aisle for another two mins, mind running in a thousand different directions. suddenly you feel strangely exposed, like you've been placed into a glass box for someone to observe your every movement.

(suddenly, you feel completely and utterly alone. scared and vulnerable and in real danger. suddenly, all you can think about is the brooding wolf you've left at home, and how seeing him is the only solution to making these feelings go away.)

you're out the door before you even realize it. your legs carry you back in the direction of your home, but your paranoia leads you to take as many convoluted turns that you can think of (because you can't shake the feeling of those beady brown eyes digging into your shoulder blades).

naoya zenin. you don't know how he shares blood with toji. if you squint hard enough you can maybe find some similarities in features. but still, you cannot understand how someone so outwardly horrible can be related to someone like toji. toji is not warm, not inherently sweet. but he is good, and that much is obvious to you. the same way you know this naoya is bad, with nothing but negative intentions.

when you finally reach your doorstep, you keep your head down and slip inside. your fingers double check every lock, every window. your mouth feels dry and there's too many weaknesses and he's definitely still out there and—

"hey."

the voice makes you jump, and when you look up, toji is staring at you—confused. his brow quirks as he peers at you through his wet hair. "well that was dramatic."

you sigh, quelling the thundering of your heartbeat. sweat beads on the skin of your palms, and you drag them over the fabric of your pants. "you just scared me."

"oh yeah, i'm so fucking terrifying." he sits on the couch, aggressively drying his wet hair with a towel. you snort, grinning as your eyes trail over the way his pointed ears fold under the weight of the fabric.

"shaking in my boots." toji rolls his eyes at your reply, and you pull off your coat with a quiet chuckle.

(honestly a little jarring how easy it is for you to relax in his presence. how easy it is to start smiling again.)

"i thought you went to get supplies?"

you freeze, glancing over your shoulder. "w-what?"

he motions to your empty hands. "you didn't get anything?"

your stomach drops. "oh um…" you clear your throat. "they were closed. so i came back."

it's almost laughable how quick the lie slips from your mouth; sickening, really, because it shouldn't be quite so easy to lie to someone who obviously trusted you. you've felt guilty before, but not like this. this goes past the dull surface ache and settles as a deep stinging, fraying your nerve endings. maybe it's because you know that you have no right to keep this from him; after all, it's his family. but something about the gleam in naoya's eyes makes your hair stand on end. if it were up to you, you'd stand in front of toji with a smile even with knives raining down your back.

the way toji's brow arches tells you that he's a little confused, maybe a little skeptical, but he shrugs and turns back to the tv, turning it on with a flick of his finger. "well okay then. i can grab some tomorrow on my way back home."

you inhale through your nose, forcing a smile. there's really no point stressing. naoya can't do much to you to begin with, not without starting something potentially dangerous with toji. so you just push it to the back of your mind and take a seat next to the grumpy wolf you realize you would do anything for.

(even lie.)

"thank you, toji," you say earnestly. the wolf gives you a sidelong glance, ears twitching at the sound of your voice, and he scoffs.

"whatever. it's not like i haven't done it before. quit bein' dramatic."

you grin, watching him cross his arms and sulk like an overgrown puppy. for some reason, his expression settles the chaos in your chest and you decide that whatever problem it is, you'll do anything it takes to keep it from him.

(perhaps it's silly, thinking that you could easily stand in front of a hybrid capable of tearing you to pieces and expect to be able to protect him. but you know he would do the same for you, and that's why it feels all too natural. easy.)

you think you will always be willing to offer him whatever space you have left. comfort, chaos, and everything in between.

****

toji doesn't consider himself a very intelligent person. not to say that he's dumb. no, he thinks he excels at street smarts. after all, no one survives a life like his without a brain.

but in terms of emotional intelligence.. well he doesn't feel all that confident. yet another area where he feels like you're a lot better than he is.

it scares him a little, how fast you can read him. how you can pick apart his every expression and behavior like it comes naturally to you. and then how you're able to to adapt and give him exactly the response he needs. whether it's sweet comfort or rational courses of action—it's perfect.

(you're perfect.)

but he's not like you. he cannot pick people apart, can't look at them and figure out what they're thinking. cannot read them like an open book the way you can.

but right now, he feels like something is wrong.

it's been almost a week since he's noticed this change in behavior. you've been looking over your shoulder like you're in some kind of horror movie. eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, fingers fiddling with the window locks. even peering outside through the gaps in your curtains.

you're nervous, he realizes. paranoid, like something's chasing you. whatever it is, toji understands that he doesn't like the way worry looks on you. in fact, he hates it. hates the way his ears can pick up your increased heartrate. hates the way he can smell the spikes of anxiousness in your scent.

he's trying to be a good housemate and respect your boundaries. trying not to be nosy and let you deal with your own issues like an adult. but then his mind wonders if there's something really wrong, if someone's giving you a hard time or stressing you out, and then he just gets angry.

(don't you know that he adores you? don't you know that you need only say the word and he'd kill a man for you? don't you know the amount of power you have over him?)

regardless, he's still trying to be a good housemate and respect your boundaries. but it's becoming increasingly more difficult to watch you come home everyday like there's someone chasing after you. even now, he watches you double check the door locks before you hurry over to your windows. double check the locks, tug the curtains shut, peer outside through the gaps.

only when you're done do your shoulders relax, and when you turn around, you jump when you notice him standing there staring at you. the surprise bleeds into a quick, barely there smile. "oh hey! how was your day?"

you don't even wait for his answer before you're turning around to hang your coat up, and that's enough to make him crack.

"alright what the fuck is wrong with you?" toji's voice cuts through the silence like ice, and you internally wince. defensive walls rise quickly, and then you're turning on him with fire in your eyes.

"excuse me?"

toji's bulky arms flex as he crosses them, staring down his nose at you completely unfazed. "you've been hiding something."

"i—"

"—and don't even bother tryin' to deny it. it's written all over your face."

the wolf watches you inhale heavily, and the crease in between your brows makes his fingers twitch (eager to reach out and smooth them down carefully).

you sigh, defeated. "remember last week when i went to the store that one night?"

toji nods.

"i, um, bumped into someone there." your fingers rub over your arms in an attempt to be soothing, and toji's frown deepens in tandem.

"who?"

you glance at him. guilt gnaws its way up your esophagus. "um, naoya zenin."

toji's reaction almost makes you vomit. his ears stand up straight, tail going rigid, and the anger that contorts his expression makes you shiver. "what?!"

his voice has taken on a timbre you haven't heard before, an inherently primal growl ripping through his vocal cords in a way that sounds almost painful. you wince, trying to placate by backtracking.

"i was gonna tell you—"

"what the fuck did he say to you?!—"

"he just—"

"that fucking creep i swear to god—"

"toji." your palms find his forearms in this strangely natural way that makes his stomach churn. steadying, stable, everything that he lacks. "please. can we just relax and sit down?"

his ears droop slightly, but he still maintains his heated glare. not that he's necessarily angry at you. but his palms feel too sweaty and his heartbeat feels too fast and his stomach feels too heavy. still, he forces himself to breathe deep through his nose, quelling the instinctual rise of feral panic that seems to want to burst from his veins. he lets your hands, barely able to fit around the width of his arms, maneuver him to the couch.

when you take a seat next to him, he can smell the nerves.

(spiked; hints of bitterness hiding between layers of sugary sweet.)

more so, you look guilty. it briefly strikes him that perhaps you feel bad about keeping this from him. he's then struck with a similar feeling when he realizes he's kept something from you too. this is all followed by a searing streak of anger when he remembers the reason why you both have been hiding things from one another.

(maybe it wouldn't be so bad to live up to their expectations of him. be the real curse of the zenin bloodline. they always said he was an uncontrollable animal. maybe it would be okay to finally prove them right. have his family's life force dripping red rivulets through his pointed claws. taste its metallic tinge between his sharpened teeth.)

"he came up to me at the store," you start, wiping down your palms on your thighs. "he already knew that i knew you. said he saw us walking around that night shopping."

toji's claws dig into the flesh of his palm painfully. the memory is now tinged with something poisonous. always breathing down his neck.

"he was talking about how his father was surprised that you were even interacting with another human. and then he said it was a shame he lost us in the crowd because otherwise he'd come to our house for a visit."

you watch the wolf next to you clench his fists, and your lips slant.

"what else did he say?" toji tries to keep his voice even, but it comes out strange. your teeth dig into the flesh of your bottom lip painfully.

"he… he said that since i was clearly c-close to you, i should convince you to do something."

"and what's that?"

you pause, before letting the bitter words spill. "convince you that's it's time to go back where they want you to be."

"that fucking asshole!" toji's voice is akin to a roar, and you wince as you watch him stand and snarl like he's been beaten. he pushes his claws into his hair and grits his teeth. "how fucking dare they even—"

another pained growl rips from his throat. the sound makes your stomach coil, and before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out to grab his arm. his head whips around at the contact, baring his teeth with a snarl as he ears point upright. but then he sees your expression, sad and tired, and his shoulders drop immediately.

"you know that i don't want you to go, right?" you ask him quietly. toji stares at you, long and hard. his jade eyes are bright with anger, but there's a hint of fear in there that makes you want to cry.

"… you sure?" his voice is so quiet you almost have to strain to hear it. your fingers tighten around his forearm. even with the way he is standing over you, you think he looks smaller. like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"i'm sure." your voice is resolute, like it's always been when it comes to him. his exhales slowly, and you smile at him in this tragic way that makes him want to rip his eyes out.

(you're too good. too trusting. too confident in the fact that he won't lead to your downfall.)

"kid," he calls out, voice strained.

"hm?"

"i gotta tell you somethin' too."

you frown, but then you're pulling him back to the couch (right next to you; close enough that your scent wraps around him once more—warm, blanket-like), and then you're looking at him earnestly. "what is it?"

he tells you all about his run in with naobito zenin. details the angry confrontation in which his stupid uncle had warned him to go back to where he belonged, tired of the wolf's running game. how the old man had been close to calling his men to come get him before toji had resorted to nearly crushing his windpipe in retaliation. how naobito had warned toji that hurting him was a punishable offense that would lead to him being locked up again. and how, at the end of it all, toji had told him that it would be worth it if it meant being rid of the stupid zenins once and for all.

and then he finishes by telling you that his uncle was so convinced toji would end up back there on his own anyway, because he was nothing more than a mindless animal.

(he carefully leaves out the threat naobito made about putting him down. and he also leaves out how none of that scared him more than the idea of his family's clutches ultimately reaching you.)

you sit there and listen with an expression that bleeds horror. the divot in your brow is so deep toji worries it may become permanent, and your eyes shine with a sadness he's never seen before. when he's done speaking, you exhale shakily.

"kid, i'm never gonna be rid of them," he says quietly. "they're always gonna be breathing down my neck. which means they're always gonna be breathing down yours too."

you nod slowly, eyes distant as you stare at the edge of the coffee table like it's got all the answers in the world.

"there's nothing i can really do." he finishes with that final statement.

you chew on your bottom lip quietly. something is working behind your eyes, calculating, evaluating. "you threatened him?"

toji scoffs. "of course i fucking did. threatened to kill him and his brat son."

you turn to him, eyes alight. "would you?"

toji's heart leaps into his throat. he will never deny the amount of times he's thought about it. since the day he was old enough to realize his own brute strength. every day he was thrown into that damn cell. every fight where he would scratch and claw just to live another day. and every day since the old man stopped him in the streets.

the thought has lingered in the back of his mind, poisonous. rotting. because he knows that it is the only way. he knows that they deserve it. he knows that it is the one path that could lead him to peace.

(that could lead to him wiping the worry from your eyes.)

it's always been there. and now you…

"you can't be serious?"

"toji, answer the question. would you do it or not?"

"of course i would!" he fires back quickly, before taking a steadying breath. "you don't get it, kid. i got no love for them. been dreaming about ripping those bastards apart since the day i was smart enough to realize they only saw me as an animal."

you nod slowly, still chewing on your lip. something settles behind your eyes, and the thrill it sends up toji's spine is almost sadistic. your voice is flat when you speak, but it does not waver. "toji… if there was something that came into my life that was threatening me and my loved ones. our livelihood, our safety, our security… i wouldn't really be thinking about morals anymore."

toji stares at you mutely, and you continue. "so… if there's an unwelcome guest showing up at the door, and we've asked them—no, begged them—to leave us alone and they haven't listened… then maybe the only thing left to do is force them to leave."

his mouth runs dry, and simultaneously, his ribcage jumps. you're looking at him with all the conviction in the world, and something in his deep complicated web of feelings for you shifts on its axis.

(you are sweet. you are peace and comfort and good. you are innocent and untouched by the horrors of the world in the best way. you are completely humane and understanding and you give nothing but kindness. you've offered him the world and he's gratefully cradled it in his palms. which is why this deeply root loyalty, this protectiveness, this affection—it has all come so naturally to him.

he would show mercy if you wanted him to. he would rip apart limbs if you wanted him to. he would dig a knife into his own intestines if you wanted him to.

but this. this is something he's wanted; dreamed about for as long as he can remember. cursed himself for thinking about because it makes him evil and wrong and horrible. but here you are—giving him support. telling him that you want it too.

this utterly wrong and animalistic thing that makes him the monster.

maybe you aren't all that pure. maybe he's the one who corrupted you. but then he thinks back to the fire in your eyes, that same resolute determination in your tone. and then he thinks that it couldn't have been him. it had to have come from within you, this desperate and complicated decision.

and then toji realizes that the reason it appeared is because you value him so highly. because on your moral scale, it is worth it to sin if it means keeping him safe. it is worth it to be animalistic if it means having him by your side.

he wants to envelop you in his arms. find your lips and breathe his own soul into you because he knows you'd keep it safe. knows you're willing to do whatever it takes for him.

the same way he is for you.

he loves you, he thinks. it's just that simple.)

and that's all the confirmation he needs.

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @mahoubitch @teddybeartoji @deedeeznoots @polarbvnny @starmapz @nonamebbsblog @echodead @totallygyomeiswife @venussdovess @your-mum3000 @haydensjw @abadbitchblogs @marajafarli @twinky-wink @t4ters @17362939 @shadowlover321 @koko-1025 @daniella666girl @d1cklethep1ckle @an-ever-angry-bi @hibiscy @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @thisisew @crystaldreamland @namjooningera @call-memissbrightside @chugao @szired @keiva1000 @yoongies-bby @giamee @hypnoctiis @nappingmoon @tananaxx @twinklingbeautifulstars @friedchicken-tendou @cupcaketeddybehr @sp1racle @ninani-nanina @entumtum @huuuhwhaat @satorushousewife @moonlitreveri3 @seren-dipitt

if you asked to be on the tag list but don’t see your name here, it’s either because your blog was blank/empty or didn’t have an age. if your name is here but you didn’t get a tag notif, check your privacy settings !!

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asiatic-apple · 2 months ago

Note

this isn't a request btw I've read about your caleb crying and sex & i wanna add: you know that tweet that goes "my bf fucks me until I get shy around him again morning after" bc, , the way he spoiled you with pleasure 🤤🤤🤤... is it intentional? unintentional? Doesn't matter. You def see him in a new NEW light (this turned out so much filthier i am so sorry😔 it sounded more intimate inside my head)

Anon first of all, thank you for christening my blog with the first ask 🤲🏽❤️ and it is such a good one too!! Second of all, don't apologize for being filthy bc I am a freak just like caleb and this is a safe space for filthy thoughts about our favorite pixelated man 😌

Idk what drugs you put in this ask, anon, but you caused a sudden burst of inspo and what started out as a few sentences of a reply quickly turned into +1k words…oopsies. I know you didn’t ask for this, but I hope you enjoy this random drabble :)

Caleb x female reader

content: nsfw-ish (no actual depiction of smut but it is heavily referenced), first time with caleb, implied multiple orgasms, overstim mentioned, caleb likes to tease you but lovingly, you both jokingly mimic the sounds each of you made last night

You wake to the smell of eggs and bacon, and it takes you a few minutes to remember where you are and what exactly happened last night. The answer is Skyhaven, in Caleb's bed—and after months of tension between the two of you, you finally wound up fucking each other.

No, that word doesn't accurately sum up everything you experienced last night. It was intimate, intense, and emotional for both of you. It even had its moments of clumsiness and soft laughter as you both navigated this new aspect of your relationship and took turns learning each other’s bodies. But on top of all that, you experienced pleasure like you've never felt before.

You quickly get out of Caleb's warm bed to start your morning routine, wanting to freshen up a bit before meeting him in the kitchen. And for some reason, you start to feel a bit timid as you look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You think about last night, how wantonly you moaned as he pulled out all the stops to make you feel good. Your cheeks burn as you remember just how many times you came on his tongue and fingers before he finally gave you his cock—and made you come around it several more times.

Thinking back to it, you can't remember exactly how many times you reached your peak, but Caleb didn't stop until you nearly passed out from exhaustion. And even then, you didn't really want him to stop. In the span of one night, you became addicted to the feeling of him inside you.

So after being faced with the filthy memories of everything you did and said last night—and all the filthy things Caleb groaned in your ear with each deep thrust inside you—it's no surprise you're feeling a little sheepish as you exit the bedroom. The worst part is that you’re sure Caleb immediately notices your shyness as he pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s just like him to give you no escape from his piercing gaze.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he whispers, running his hands up and down your back.

You know it's meant to be an innocent gesture, but your memories of last night only grow stronger as you're reminded of how he couldn't keep his hands off you. And how tightly he held you in place while you wriggled beneath him from overstimulation.

“I made us breakfast. Figured you'd be especially hungry after last night.” You're convinced he's saying that on purpose, lowering his voice in that infuriatingly sexy way of his before he chuckles a bit too smugly.

You smack his shoulder lightly, trying to hide the fact that your face is getting even hotter from his teasing. “Shut up,” you whine in mortification.

But Caleb seems intent on making you squirm. “Oh, c'mon,” he says in a playful drawl before pulling you tighter against his chest. “Are you really that embarrassed by what we did last night?”

His fingers trail feather-light touches up your back and along your neck, purposeful in finding your ticklish spots so he can turn your bashfulness into fits of carefree laughter. Once he's satisfied with you loosening up a bit, he looks down at you seriously.

“You don't regret anything, do you?” You can tell he's trying to keep his tone lighthearted, but there's a glint of fear in those wide eyes of his.

“No, god no,” you say without hesitation. “I don't regret anything.”

You swallow that nervous lump in your throat, still feeling the remnants of embarrassment as you meet his gaze to show him you're serious too. And Caleb’s smile only grows bigger. It’s like you've given him the greatest gift with such a simple answer. He gives you a chaste peck on the lips before pulling back with a different kind of grin—one that says he's back to teasing you now that you've both cleared the air a bit.

“Good,” Caleb replies. “Because I definitely want to hear those cute sounds of yours again.”

Another kiss lands on your warm cheeks, and your brain short-circuits from that suggestive look in his eyes. Still, you manage a scoff at his smug tone. He's already so cocky about his ability to rile you up, and a petty part of you wants to remind him how you weren't the only one being enthusiastically loud last night.

“Oh, yeah? And what about you?” You try to keep your voice steady, even as Caleb continues peppering lazy kisses along your cheeks and down your neck. “I'm pretty sure you were louder than I was.” You lower your voice a register, trying to imitate those broken groans he made when he was close to his climax. “Hm, pip-squeak, you feel so good!”

You barely get through your poor impression before breaking character with a snort. But at least Caleb’s onslaught of wet kisses halts for a moment as he also fails at stifling his laughter.

“Right, right,” he says between a few chuckles. Even though you might be exaggerating a bit with your impression, Caleb’s cheeks and ears still tinge pink with a blush. “Was that before or after you kept beggin’ me”—his voice pitches higher—“oh, Caleb, please please don’t stop.”

You gasp dramatically. “I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. It’s better when you do it.”

You roll your eyes, only half-annoyed by Caleb mentioning how unabashed you were in voicing your pleasure last night. The other half of you is turned on by his teasing. But that’s only for you to know…for now.

But as always, it’s like he can read your mind right at that moment. Caleb leans closer, taking advantage of your flustered state so he can whisper in your ear. “Maybe you need a reminder of how needy you were for me last night. I don't mind joggin’ your memory, honey.”

Before you can even try to come up with a witty remark, he's pulling away and dragging you to the dining table as if he didn’t just threaten you with a good time.

“Come on,” he says with a knowing grin. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold. And after you're done digesting, maybe I can teach you not to get so antsy every time I touch you.”

You huff as you sit at the table. It’s not fair how easily he gets under your skin with his words and sweet promises. And his promises definitely sound too good to be true. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling shy after getting fucked so thoroughly by Caleb. Will there ever be a day when he doesn’t make your skin burn with so much pent-up desire?

Caleb interrupts your spiraling thoughts, nudging the plate of food toward you. “I can still see those gears turning in your head, makin’ you wonder if there’s still a reason to be shy. Stop worrying so much, pip-squeak,” he scolds you gently. “Or else next time, I'll have to make sure you feel so good that your pretty head can’t think anymore.”

dni banner by @/cafekitsune

#the way i worked overtime to crank this out asap bc anon inspired me so much #caleb x reader #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #lnds caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x you #caleb x fem reader #caleb xia #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #xia yizhou #caleb xia x reader #xia yizhou x reader #ivy writes #ivy answers

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littledes1re · 1 month ago

Text

How to disappear | Chapter: two

Summary: Joel is feeling guilty, he is broken. He ruined you. Yet, he has the audacity to come to your house and have dinner. To come to your door and talk to you. Your mind is a chaos.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff (but as a flashback, i’m sorry) dealing with heartbreak, tommy cameo, Joel is kinda an asshole, fighting, age gap! (23 and 61), grief, anxiety, lots of crying, depression, small reference to suicide

A/N: AAA it‘s finally hereeeee. It’s kinda short but there is lot’s of things going on right now so🫩But this took SO long I kept deleting it and then rewriting it. I was never satisfied, but now I think I like it. I didn‘t even think so many people would read it🥹

„You‘re not the happiest I‘ve seen you, once again.“ if his mother would still be alive, Tommy would run to her and spill his heart out about joel. Ask for advice, listen to her words and maybe even cry. He couldn‘t understand his pain, but could see his sorrow. He wanted to reach his hand out, take a part out of it, carry it with his own. But Joel never let him—never let him past that strong wall that he was hiding behind.

„It‘s going.“ Joel shrugged, taking a sip from his drink and putting it down. In his mind he was already planning to make this wall stronger, so this time Tommy wouldn‘t even notice when his mood was off for a few days. But, he couldn‘t blame him. The months after the accident, joel did not even once speak to his little brother. There was an uncomfortable passing between them, one that none of them could break, the guilt weighed heavy on both of them—one, not knowing how to handle his big brother after his daughter died in his arms; the other, not knowing how to open up, shutting people out completely, resigned to misery and solitude.

„S‘nothing. Swear.“

And joels stomach twists at the thought of calling you nothing.

„Okey, brother. I believe you. Uh—benjamin’s birthday is tomorrow. You comin‘? And tess too?“ Tommy asks, a little bit more hopeful because Joel was actually showing interest in their conversation. Yet, there was still this dull light in his eyes, sadness and the bags under them did nothing to ease his worries. His brother was strong—that was certain. Whatever he was saying should be true and tommy tried his best to hang on that reassuring promise that joel was doing okey, even if in the back of his mind he beat himself up, for not knowing how to handle him. How to handle his anxiety, his guilt.

„Yeah, sounds good.“

There was a bling, his phone went off. It was you, once again.

Every time Joel read your messages, your letters, each one left unanswered, each call declined, a sharp knife that already sits in his heart just twists a little deeper. There is no denying in what he had done. The cowardice. He had ruined you, crushed something fragile within you, made you love him only to vanish without a single explanation. The only thing left in his wake was consequence. The deep hatred he carried for himself, the suffocating guilt, always trailing behind him like a second shadow. He tried, over and over, to give himself and the world another chance—but he ruins it, every single time. And now, seeing the weight of it all reflected trough your efforts, makes him want to die. He tried that once, but he is a coward.

The day he came to your room to ask how you are doing. The day he got the news that your mother had passed. It all hit him. He just understood the pain you were feeling and how much of a moron your dad was. Being best friends with him for years, he saw some shit that made his stomach turn. Not even once caring for his daughter, always having a dumb excuse to not pick you up from somewhere, always having an excuse to avoid his daughter. And god—if joel didn‘t need to be friends with him because of work, he would‘ve probably beat him.

Alone, angry and miserable. He knew how you were feeling, and if your dads not going to be there to comfort you, he took that role.

But he wished he didn‘t. There was a line that was crossed, the more time you spent together, the more he lost himself in you. Suddenly, the pain wasn't that big anymore; suddenly he had someone with him who understood him and gave him strength. Joel hadn't known anything like that in a long time. This affection from someone else. If it wasn't a warm shoulder on a cold winter morning, then it was the loving look when he showed up at your door. It felt like everything else in the world disappeared and only the two of you existed. Understood, comforted, loved. Together.

His eyes fell to the pink blanket he extra bought for you, a sharp pain spread over his heart.

“No, keep em’ closed.”

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh grass and distant city lights. It was one beautiful night. The temperature just the kind of gentle chill that brushed against bare skin, coaxing shivers yet never sharp enough to be uncomfortable. A perfect summer night.

He was standing behind you, his hands hovering over your eyes, warm and slightly trembling. Joel was nervous. And he wasn’t sure if you noticed it. He even accidentally stumbled on the back of your feet, a little ‘sorry’ leaving his lips. But you always noticed, every single detail that his expression makes, his body language. You knew it all. Seeing a man like him, with his rough edges, grumpy attitude being anxious was a rare sight, but a sweet one.

Your heart was thrumming inside your chest— there was a sweet awaiting of love and affection but one that was still swimming in the unknown. Anticipation floating in the air between you two. Neither of you dared to take the first step. Maybe it was fear. Fear that what you felt was love—or something dangerously close to it—but that for him, it was something else entirely. A refuge, a place to rest, not a fire to burn in. Was it love, or merely the comfort of knowing you were there? If he had never needed saving, would he have reached for you at all?

Yet, you imagined it was love. Waiting, wanting. Needing.

“Okey, open them.”

And as you did, you sucked in a breath.

The soft glow of the fairy lights twinkled, golden and pretty against the darkness, that was surrounding you two. A white sheet had been hung from the tree, flickering slightly as it caught the breeze. In front of that — a projector. Pillows and a pink blanket had been scattered across the grass, cosy and all of it carefully placed, he made it just for you. And you couldn’t believe it.

Same flannel. He was wearing the same flannel in front of you from that night. Shamelessly sitting there, eating. The hatred filled you, the anger was one you could feel in your bones yet you wanted to cry. Your fist were clenched under the table, leaving marks on your skin. There was a tight knot in your throat, just barely keeping you from sobbing out loud. Like a baby. You were ashamed, cheeks flamed— because apparently he didn’t care.

You had your answer. Joel just wanted a shoulder to cry on. And it was you who fell in love and made everything difficult.

Why tho? That single word clawed at your mind, echoing in the quiet.

All these words he whispered to you in the middle of the night, all the times he had made you blush, giggle, smile. Looked at you love. Tucking you to bed, cuddling you, making you food. People didn’t just do that for fun? Do they?

He looked at you as if nothing else existed in this world except you

It hurt. It felt like a gut punch. Like you could crawl away from the embarrassment and stick your head into sand only to never come out.

But what hurt more was the painful realisation, that he moved on. So easily. As if you were nothing more than a passing season in his life, something to be forgotten once the weather changed.

His girlfriend was beautiful, polite and way older. Older than you. While there should have been deep hatred toward them both, you couldn‘t get past that. Your mind even coming to the conclusion that they fit together. Fit together way more than you and joel did. The age gap was a normal one, she probably had a good job and income, an apartment. You had none of those things. And maybe joel didn‘t deserve that, maybe his decision was right, maybe you shouldn‘t be sad, you should be happy that he found himself someone. Gaslighting yourself wouldn‘t change this situation much further. Because as much as a difficult conclusion that is, you fell in love with him. And now you lost him to someone else.

He laughed at the table—that warm laughter you knew so well, the kind that spilled from bad dad jokes, the kind that made your stomach ache with giggles. But you kept searching for his eyes, for their softness, for the light he once gave you. He avoided your gaze, and part of you was grateful because if you met his eyes now, everything would crumble. You'd unravel, a crying mess, right in front of your dad. And you hated yourself for it—for being so sensitive, for not moving on as quickly as he had.

While you tried your best to concentrate on eating, which consisted of only moving the food underneath fork left to right, you caught his eyes, from the corner of your eye. He was looking at you, watching, trying to get your attention? And there it was. Eye contact. You didn‘t burst out in tears, like you thought you would. You didn‘t even twitch with your eye. You felt it in your chest. A drop, then warmth spreading in you, goosebumps on your whole body. Cheeks flaming hot, just like the tip of your ears. You couldn‘t take this anymore.

„Excuse me, i‘m not hungry anymore“ You abruptly left the table, not even looking at the people before sprinting to your room.

Your press your back against the door, locking it and looking around your room.

Slumping onto your bed, limbs weak as your arms wrap around your body. The walls seem to close in, slowly suffocating you, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. And as your chest tightens you think of your mother. How she was your best friend. How you could tell her everything in the world and she would not judge you once, not question anything. Just listen to you.

The slow and painful realisation of being alone, makes you suddenly sob. Breaking free before you can even stop it. You press your face against your pillow, trying to muffle them but they come anyway, loud, ragged and shaking your whole frame. Memories of her voice haunt you, the way she gently laid her hand on your shoulder, her warm laugh filling the room. The sweet worried look she would give you whenever you feel bad about something. Nerve wrecking, helpless. You couldn‘t do much. You had to accept it and move on. The embarrassment, the fear that it would happen again.

And suddenly, there was a knock. And after asking three times over who it was, you sure knew it wasn‘t your father.

His brown eyes gently looked every inch of your face, his bottom lip quivering. He just stood there, looked at your red, crying face.

„Oh, babygirl.“ it slipped out. He didn‘t want to call you that. Heck— he didn‘t even want to come to your room in the first place.

And for a split moment you wanted to fall into his arms.

Bury your face into his chest and let yourself overcome with the comfort and warmth you haven‘t felt for months. But you didn‘t. You raised your hand slowly and without a brink in your eye, you slapped him across the face. A sudden, unexpected act that not only took him by complete surprise but also you.

„How do you have the fucking audacity to come here and call me babygirl?“

And Joel was just standing there. Like a fish out of water, mouth gaped open and not moving. The right side of his cheek slowly turning red, as you looked at him. Shocked, hurt and angry.

„I—I don‘t know.“ his voice was careful, like he is testing waters before talking. Not wanting to have another hit in his face. Yet his eyes were still full of worry, the bags under his eyes deeper than ever. You wondered if he also had sleepless nights.

„Why do you even show your face here? And with her! Did you not care for me just a little bit? Was I just a shoulder to cry on for you?“

„That‘s not what this is.“

Disbelief gripped you. The anger you felt inside was something that had been building up over these months. And you wanted to take it all out on him. Everything. Your father and his ability to make you feel useless. On the guilt that gnawed at you whenever you resented your mother for leaving you alone. On your friends—who, in the end, were never really friends at all.

He was just looking at you. Jaw tight, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as if he is holding himself up by force. There was no warmth in his eyes as you knew it, they were empty. A shallow vessel of a man was looking at you, while you desperately tried to hold into the one feeling he showed you. Love.

„then what is it?“ you step forward, almost daring him to flinch, to react, to prove that the man you love is somehow still in there.

Joel doesn‘t answer, looks away and tried to find the right words to answer you. But they never come. There is an uncomfortable silence between you two. One that you never experienced with him.

“You are such a coward“ you spit, voice breaking. Tears streaking down your face, landing on your mouth as you taste the saltiness.

„Please stop with the letters and calls. I‘m with her now. I don‘t want her to get uncomfortable.“

Wow. Every word that left his mouth hit you in the face like a brick. Your breath was gone and you wished you could crumble, crumble in front of him and disappear. You wanted to be held by the hands of your mother and lay down her chest, smell her. You wanted to cry out and sob. You wanted to slap him, kick him, scream into his face. But everything around you blurred together, the pain wrapped around your ribs, just tightening more and more as you looked into the face of a man you never knew.

You didn‘t know him. You apparently never did.

The feelings that he showed you, grief, anger and pain. All gone, once again being kept deep inside, he turned into that miserable man he was right after his daughter died. And maybe you realised, that‘s who he was. That‘s who he was always and the kindness, comfort, light you experienced was all in your head. He played you, so he could have you, then left you with a hole in your heart.

You watched silently as he left your room. Then, a couple minutes later, you watched from the window as he and his girlfriend walked to their car, packed their things in and got in.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours one last time before he drove away.

You wished to disappear.

You wished to hate him.

You wished you could forget.

But knowing, cruelly, that you never will.

Fucking joel you little pos🫩😔

Chapter one! Chapter three!

Thank you so much for reading!!! as always, english isn‘t my first language—so feedback or any corrections of mistakes are appreciated!!!🫶🏻

Taglist:

@vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @brittmb115 @xcallmetaniax @umadirectioner @glitterspark @replaythatrayrae @bluekat707 @ccmoonshine @datgirl-audrey @lovelystrawberrysblog @heartpatch @sukivenue @valitagun @lizaispunk @bigeyesbabe @mystickittytaco @catalysmic @marisemonteiroo @nosebeers @ariundercovers @misguidedasgardian @neobangverse @lestatismo @aj0elap0l0gist @ur-fav-pixi @pedrofan @hhallefuckinglujahh @callmeafra @b1bbles @fallout-girl219

If I missed anybody then i‘m sorry, it‘s so many people and I completely lost overview of the taglist lmao😭😭😭

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel #tlou #hbo tlou #dadsbestfriend!joel #dbf!joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x f!reader #fanfiction

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koosluvss · 11 months ago

Text

“Say it” - jjk fic

—“Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby..”

you always looks forward to having date night with your boyfriend Yejoon. You guys have been together for a little over and year and after him being so busy with work he finally takes you on a date. You’ve been spending most of your time with Jungkook, your best friend. Never in your whole life would you have ever thought that you’d be sitting at a table with your boyfriend while your best friends cum drips down your leg.

pairing :: bsf,jk!! + fem-oc!!

genre :: smut ‼️ (little angst if you really think about it when someone confesses 🤫)

wc :: 3.2k

warnings :: cheating oc!! lying, sorta public sex (?) confession, cursing, not choking but hand wrapped around throat, boob play, oral sex (f receiving) protected sex! (birth control), cumming inside ☺️

hello everyone! this is just a random story I wrote that I wanted to post on here. I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any ask’s please feel free to ask me!

𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•

“Jungkook for the last fucking time I am not about to ditch Yejoon just to hang out with you” I said to the phone that is sitting on the edge of my vanity as I do some finishing touches to my makeup

“Come on ____! You know you wanna see me right now” I heard him say from the other side of the phone, his smile clearly being heard in his voice. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone so that I could check if my boyfriend had texted me about our date

“I have to leave my house soon, Yejoon gonna pick me up in a bit” I said before tapping the facetime screen and seeing Jungkook look at me through the screen with a small pout on his face. “Get rid of the pout Jeon” I said and he rolled his eyes at me

“Pleasee ____? I haven’t seen you in so long” He said in his whiny tone, I shook my head at him before getting up from my vanity chair and picking up a pair of my black heels that will go with the black dress that I am wearing

“I have to go Jungkook, we can hang out some other day. Byee!” I said giving him a small wave before I hung up the call. I put on the heels that I chose out and I looked at myself through the body mirror that I have in my bathroom. As soon as I left the bathroom I heard a soft knock on my apartment door. I swung the door open and I was greeted with the sight of my boyfriend

“Hi baby” he said as a soft smile was placed upon his lips before he held out a bouquet of flowers for me. I quickly grabbed them and gave him a hug and placed a small kiss on his lips.

“I missed you” I said as my own smile started to form on my lips as I saw him look me up and down. He placed a hand on my hip before he led me out of my apartment and towards his car.

“You look so pretty tonight, I love this dress on you” I heard him say as he opened his car door for me like the gentleman he is. I quickly step in and he shuts the door when he sees that I'm in and about to buckle up. He gets into the car and starts to drive us to dinner, our car ride is filled with small talk and little giggles here and there. My eyes sparkle as I see the view of the beautiful restaurant that has a lake view behind it. Yejoon parks the car before he gets out and opens my door. He held his hand out and helped me get out before we both walked towards the restaurant. When we walk in Yejoon goes to talk to the waiter about the reservation that he’s made. Once we both get seated, I finally take in the beauty of this place. We sat next to the huge window which gives us access to the view of the lake that has the lights reflected over it.

“This place is so beautiful, Yejoon, thank you for taking me here” I said, giving him a soft smile before I looked over to the table next to us and saw another couple holding hands and looking at each other with love. Yejoon and I talk for a bit while our waiter comes up to us and gives us some wine and takes our orders before leaving us alone. I hear my phone vibrate next to me and I pick it up to look at who's texting me. ‘Jungkook- Go to the bathroom’ I look at my phone with a confused expression on my face. I excuse myself and Yejoon simply nods at me before I grab my bag and make my way to the bathroom. Once I get to the bathroom I simply stand in the hallway before I get my phone and right as I’m about to dial his number I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I jumped slightly before I turned around and was greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s warm smile

“Hi baby” he said mocking Yejoon’s voice as I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous behavior. Just as I’m about to say something to him I feel him drag me into the family bathroom. He locks the door behind himself before I turn around at stare at him

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked him as I placed my bag on the sleek marble counter, I crossed my arms before I continued to stare him down. He looks so fucking good right now, he always does. I would almost feel bad for the way I’m looking at my best friend while my boyfriend is outside waiting for me to join him at the table again. He walks toward me and leans against the counter giving me another one of his famous smiles that shout ‘you know you can’t be angry at me’

“I told you I missed you and I wanted to hang out no?” He said simply before he himself looks me up and down, I notice him briefly looking at my hips before he brings his eyes back up to mine

“Jungkook, I’m having dinner with my boyfriend right no-”

“No you’re not because I'm standing right here and I wasn’t at the table with you” he says, cutting me off. I feel my cheeks turn red as he says that and I look down at the floor. His finger hooks under my chin before he leans my head back up so I’m still looking at him. “What’s wrong? Got my baby all flustered for me?” I heard him say before giving me a slight smirk

“Why are you here?” I said pushing on his chest gently so that there could be some space in between both of our bodies. I see him tilt his head at me and a fake ass pout sat on top of his pretty pink lips that are decorated with two silver hoops on his lower lip

“Are you saying you didn’t miss me at all?” he says, stepping closer towards me so that the space between us is closed. Clearly not liking the distance between us

“No I didn’t, I was with Yejoon. Why would I think of you?” I say and I see him eyeing my lips before they make there way back up to my eyes

“That’s a shame because while you’re over here enjoying your night with your boyfriend I’m over here dying. You take up all my headspace, I was thinking about what you were wearing, what you would get, where he is going to take you, and why you are with such a shame of a man and not with me.” I heard him say while I felt his hand gently caress my cheek

“Jungkook, what?” I said with confusion written all over my face

“____ baby, you can’t possibly think that you should settle for him” he said while he looked in my eyes as he only saw pure confusion in them, “Wow you really are dumb”

“Excuse me?” I said before I felt his hand drop from my cheek to my hip. I know it’s wrong and I should probably tell him to stop and get his hands off me but at the moment everything just felt right. His hands on me and both of our bodies pressed together just felt right. I felt his breath gently brush against my lips and I just felt like melting in his hold. His hand grabbed mine and he placed it on top of his chest just enough so that I could feel the faint feeling of his heart beat.

“You feel this ____? This is because of you, I'm only for you. You have me whipped for you and I just have to sit back and watch as you blindly fall in love with this asshole. It hurts me because I have to see you fall in love with someone who isn’t me. I beg you to be by my side so often because it just feels so complete to me, you complete me” He said softly as I felt his heart beat on the palm of my hand quicken. I look at him in shock as he looks down at me with his soft brown eyes filled with pure emotion. “So please ____, choose me. Let me be the man who shows you love and affection. I’m sick of having to tell myself I can’t have you because I know I can and I will” He says, his hand lets go of mine and I feel him brush some hair out of my face.

“Jungkook, I can’t, and you know it too I love him” I said softly as I felt my heart ache as I heard his confession

“No you don’t” He simply says to me before he cups my face in his hands gently. “You can love me and you do it’s just you don’t want to tell yourself that”

“Jungkook, I love him” I said as I felt some tears fill my eyes. My own mind is filled with confusion as I keep thinking if I really see myself with Yejoon. As I think of him Jungkook is the only name thats pops up in my head

“If you truly loved him you wouldn’t let your bestfriend hold you and confess his love to you huh?” He said as I felt his face inch closer to me. He had me stuck, I didn’t know what to say. It was like I’m intoxicated with him. I feel his lips touch mine and that's all it took until my mind is completely made. I love my best friend, I always have. His hands dropped from my face down to holding my hips and my own arms snake up to wrap around his neck. I felt him let out a slight smile against my lips before he picked me up. My legs wrapped around his waist as I felt him place me on top of the marble counter, our kiss never breaking. His lips found their way down to my jawline then slowly trailed down to my neck, his hot breath hitting my neck felt like heaven to me

“Fuck kook” I breathed out as I felt him gently suck the sensative skin behind my ear. His hand trailed their way down from my hips so that they are now resting on both of my thighs. His fingers hook onto the bottom of my dress before he looks up at me to see if I was okay with him doing this. I let out a slow nod then I felt him lift my dress up enough so that my lacy panties were exposed to his eyes. He went on his knees before placing gentle kisses on the insides of my thighs causing me to bite my lip gently, I watched as he slowly made his way up to my covered pussy, my wetness was starting to leak out through the thin material of my panties. Jungkook let out a soft smile before he placed a soft kiss over my covered heat

“So wet for me hm?” He said softly against me before his finger moved my panties to the side so that he had full access to me. I felt him press a soft kiss against my clit which caused a soft moan to escape from my lips. His tongue dipped into my folds and I felt him suck my clit teasingly then letting his tongue fuck my pussy. My hands find their way to his head, I let my fingers get tangled in his hair before I bite my lip and I try to maintain my moans so that they are quiet enough not to be heard outside of the bathroom door. My head falls back as I feel Jungkook’s tongue lap in my pussy. I always knew Jungkook had a past of being so good at sex that he had girls begging and crying for him to come back to them, each and everyone getting rejected. I had even thought of what it would feel like to fuck him or even just have him eat me out. All those thoughts went away once I started to date Yejoon. (sort of)

Jungkook pulled away from my pussy, his chin glistening with my wetness and he smiled at me before he stood up. “Get off the counter, I’ve been waiting so long to be able to fuck you” He said as I jumped off the counter before he turned me around and fully took off my panties letting them fall to the floor. He lifts up my dress higher so that it wouldn’t get in our way. I feel him take his belt and black jeans off before I could feel the clear outline of his hard cock rubbing against my ass. “Shit, I don’t have any protection” He said from behind me

“We don’t need it, I'm on the pill” I said and looked at him through the mirror, a slick smirk placed upon his lips before I heard him take his boxers off. His hand held my waist while the other held his cock and aligned it with my entrance

“Baby if you ever want to stop just let me know, you’re in control” I heard him say while making eye contact with me through the mirror. He gave me a soft smile then he pushed his cock inside of me

“Oh shit” I moaned out once I felt him fully enter me. He lets out a soft groan while his grip on my hips tightens. My mouth fell open in ecstasy once I felt him thrust into me, it felt as if I was being brought into heaven

“Fuck ____, you’re so tight” He said while his head got thrown back as he continued to thrust into me at a erotic pace. I felt him bring the top of my dress down a little, enough so that my boobs spill out, Jungkook quickly grabbed one of my breasts and played with it in his tattooed hand. Quiet moans escaped my lips as He continued to fuck himself into me. His free hand wrapped around my throat before he pulled my body up so that I’m looking into the mirror. I could almost cum at the sight of him fucking himself into my pussy, his long fingers grabbing and playing with the sensitive skin of my breasts. “Look how good we’d be together ____, we look so fuckin’ good together hmm? Say it baby” He said before I felt his grip slightly tighten around my throat. I try to form a sentence but the only thoughts that come into my head are about how good he’s making me feel. I hear him chuckle in my ear with his deep sexy voice, his lips place soft kisses on my shoulder and up to my neck. “Awe, look at how pretty you look struggling to answer me, getting all brain dead while getting fucked with my dick” He said in my ear before he let go of my neck and let his hand fall down to my clit as he began to rub it slowly. “I want you to look at yourself while you cum for me hm?” I nodded at him before my back arched against his back, a louder moan escaped my lips as I felt a knot in my stomach form.

“Kook, im gonna-” I tried to warm him but I just couldn’t, I looked at myself and saw my face all sweaty and my cheeks a bright red color

“Cum baby, I wanna feel you cum around my dick” He said before letting out another soft groan as he continued to rub my clit. I do exactly as he says. After a few thrusts I come undone while he continues to thrust into me. My mouth fell open and my head fell back so that it was resting on his shoulder. Not so long after I felt his thrusts grow sloppy and he came inside of me. Once he pulled out he turned me around and placed a loving kiss to my lips. “God, I love you so much” He whispered against my lips before he helped me clean myself up

“Jungkook,” I said softly as I watched him put his clothes back on after he helped me fix myself so that Yejoon wouldn’t know anything about what just happened. He looked up at me, his soft eyes meeting mine again as he finished buckling his belt. “I love you, I don’t want this to end” I said and he smiled at me before walking towards me putting some hair behind my ear while placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“You think I’d just quit on you after I confessed to you? Hell no” He said before letting out a light laugh looking at me with admiration in his eyes. “We can talk about us when you go home later okay baby?” He said pulling away from me, I quickly nodded at him before I saw him exit the bathroom door. I felt a little piece of me disappear as I saw him walk away from me. I look at the mirror and quickly fix some of my makeup before I walk out to Yejoon again.

“Hey there you are! I thought you ran away from me” He says chuckling at me as he takes a bite of his steak. Damn we took so long that the food already came. I sat down in my chair and gave him a fake smile placing my bag down next to me

“Sorry my aunt was going through something and I needed to help her through it” I said laughing awkwardly before I took a bite out of my now cold food. I heard my phone ding, I picked it up and saw a notification from Jungkook. ‘Jungkook- Now that I think about it, you never answered me when I asked if we looked good together. Now I wanna hear you say it.’ I looked up and saw Jungkook standing near the exit looking down at his phone with a small smirk. I ignored his text and took another bite of my food. Ding. I let out a scoff before I opened my phone again and saw another text from him. ‘Jungkook- Don’t ignore me. Say it.’ I giggled quietly to his text before I typed back, ‘- Don’t be an idiot, of course we look amazing together.’ I typed back and I turned off my phone before I saw Yejoon looking at me

“Was that your aunt?” He asked

“Yeah she was just telling me some funny story of my uncle, I’ll tell you later” I said before taking another bite of my food

“I love you ____, you’re such a perfect woman I don’t know what I would do without you” he said smiling at me brightly

“Me too baby” I said, forcing another smile at him as I felt Jungkook's cum slowly make its way down my leg. “So much”

𖧐𐮚~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𖧐𐮚~~~~~~•

Okay guys thank you so much for reading. This was my first time writing smut so I really hope that I did okay 😓 like I’ve said before thank you so much for reading and I’ll post again soon!

- koosluvss

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dior-luxury · 1 month ago

Note

Can we get some headcanons for Deuce when he gets a girlfriend for the first time?

New Boyfriend Deuce HC'S

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] deuce spade

- [𝐩:𝐬] deuce being the best boyfriend ever. Fluff-heavy romance . Mild secondhand embarrassment . Emotional vulnerability .

Note: Guys... I got a LITTLE too carried away with these headcanons (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) Anyways these headcanons are so cute like- ahahsiken. Let me know if you guys would want more characters!

Deuce never thought he’d have a girlfriend in Night Raven College — he was too busy trying to be an honor student, avoid trouble, and stay on Crowley's good side. But when he meets you, something shifts. You're kind, but not a pushover. You encourage him to study but also tease him when he gets too serious. You’re not loud, but somehow, when you're in a room, he feels it. His heart jumps a little whenever you laugh. At first, he writes it off as admiration. Just friends. That’s all. But then he finds himself lingering in the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of you between classes. He starts sitting in spots where you’ll pass by. His cheeks flush whenever you smile at him for no reason. He realizes it when Ace smirks one day and goes, “You’re seriously down bad for her, huh?”

Confessing is a nightmare and a half. He doesn’t want to mess it up. Deuce goes full-on prep mode like he’s cramming for a Spelldrive match and a pop quiz at the same time. He practices what to say in front of the mirror, muttering lines like: "Would you maybe want to—uh—do the thing—no, wait, not like that—"

He’s red as a tomato by the end of it.

He writes you a letter. Handwritten. Old-fashioned. Filled with crossed-out words and nervous little doodles in the margins. It ends with: “I think you’re amazing and I want to be someone you can count on. If you want… would you go out with me?” When he hands it to you, he bolts. Just. Takes off. Won’t even look you in the eye until the next day.

When you say yes, he’s stunned into silence. Then his face lights up like fireworks and he gives you the most genuine, pure smile you’ve ever seen. "R-Really?! I mean, I’m really happy. I’ll do my best—I mean, I’ll be the best boyfriend I can!”

Deuce is so earnest it hurts. He Googles “how to be a good boyfriend” and takes notes. He shows up to your hangouts with little things you mentioned once in passing. If you said your favorite color was lilac? Expect him to wear a tie in that color next week. You mentioned you liked strawberry tarts once? He’ll try to bake them (and ends up covered in flour, calling his mom mid-way for help).

He’s not very smooth, and it shows. One time, he tried to do the whole "cool guy leaning against the locker" thing and misjudged the angle, falling sideways into the wall. He laughed it off awkwardly, ears pink. “Nailed it,” he said. You giggled, and he practically melted.

He tries to play it cool around others, but Ace teases the hell out of him. “There’s your girlfriend, Deuce! Go get her a flower or something!” “I-I was going to anyway! Shut up, Ace!”

He loves walking you back to your dorm. It becomes a quiet, meaningful routine. He listens intently when you talk about your day, and he’ll offer to carry your books even if you insist he doesn’t have to. He’s not touchy at first — not because he doesn’t want to be, but because he’s terrified of doing something you’re uncomfortable with. The first time you held his hand, he short-circuited. Just blinked down at your interlocked fingers and looked like he was trying not to pass out from happiness.

Being with you pushes him to grow. He starts reflecting on how he communicates, how he reacts when he’s upset, how he can show love without overwhelming you. You catch glimpses of the rougher Deuce sometimes — the one who’s a little hot-headed, a little impulsive. But he’s learning. With you, he wants to be the version of himself that he's proud of.

One time, he got into an argument with another student who disrespected you, and he was this close to throwing a punch. But then he remembered what you’d say. He breathed. He walked away. Later, he apologized to you, looking like a kicked puppy. “I just… I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

You tell him you’re proud of how far he’s come. His voice catches when he answers. “That means a lot. I… I used to think I had to fight to prove myself. But now, I want to grow for real. Not just for me. For us.”

He takes you on a “date” to the botanical gardens on campus, and it’s surprisingly lovely. He’s not great at planning fancy things, but he puts in so much heart. He brings a picnic lunch he made (not bad, actually!) and sets it all up under a tree blooming with pastel flowers. “I wanted you to have something peaceful. You always make me feel calm, you know?” he admits.

On your birthday, Deuce panics about what gift to get you. In the end, he hand-crafts a small charm — something simple, with your initials and a lucky star bead from his hometown. “It’s not perfect, but I wanted you to have something that’d protect you.”

Rainy days are his favorite because you’ll let him lend you his jacket — which is oversized, warm, and smells like the citrus soap he uses. You wear it and tease him: “Boyfriend privileges.” He blushes but beams. “I’ll give you all the privileges you want.”

Deuce might act tough sometimes, but he’s soft when it comes to you. He’s the type to text you “Did you eat today?” or bring you your favorite snack after a long class. If you’re ever sad, he listens. Doesn’t always know what to say, but he sits beside you, lets you vent, and quietly offers his hand to hold.

He’s so gentle when he’s with you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Smiling nervously before pressing a kiss to your forehead. His affection is shy but real.

One night, you two stayed up late talking — about dreams, the future, things that scare you, things you hope for. Deuce looked at you and whispered: “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have someone like you. I don’t wanna take it for granted.”

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raevpng · 2 months ago

Text

mine, always

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

summary: azzi helping paige pack up her dorm, and maybe an exchange of jewelry for a much needed pick me up

a/n: azzi wearing that 5 necklace yesterday ACTUALLY made me crash out, you know i needed to write about it 😵‍💫 i hope you guys enjoy this short and quick fluffy one shot and once again let’s all say thank you to azzi for once again single handedly shutting down the bsf allegations 😻

—

the dorm looked strange half-empty, like it couldn’t decide if it was still paige’s or already a memory. boxes lined the walls, some open and overflowing with uconn jerseys, shoes, old team posters—and others half-sealed, a chaotic reflection and reminder of the last five years paige has spent making this place her home.

azzi pushed open the door, keys jingling as she stowed away her keychain with paige’s spare key. she remembers when she had gifted it to her – azzi in her freshman year still trying to settle in the uconn dorms, sifting through different boxes trying to find her belongings. paige, still her best friend, was helping her unpack and build shelves. she remembers paige whining for a break to order some food, she remembers how her heart fluttered unfairly at how hot the blonde looked with her sports bra and casual pajama pants, shaking away those thoughts like they were dangerous, a threat to her familiar life. she remembered them sitting on the floor, surrounded by cardboard and mess, when paige suddenly perked up, remembering the weight in her pocket.

“i got something for you,” paige smiled, her statement raising suspicion from the brunette as she raised her eyebrow in a silent question. “it’s nothing big, but i just wanted you to have this.”

paige pulled something silver out her pocket, taking azzi’s hands gently to place the key on her palm, skin tingling where they touched.

paige almost looked shy, a light pink spreading across her cheeks to her neck, “i just thought, now that we’re together again and clearly, my persuasive recruiting paid off–” she smirked earning a fond eye roll, “i thought it would be nice to give you a key to my place. something to say we made it here, together.”

azzi remember how everything fell into place for her then, the oh moment when she realised she wanted to spend her whole life seeing paige with that pretty pink blush, to be this close to her she could smell the aroma of paige’s laundry detergent on shared hoodies, and to just be with her – the cause of the fluttering in her stomach and the unbearable desire to pull her closer. it all made sense now, those cheesy storylines in all those romance novels she read, the lyrics in the love songs she blasted. it was always paige. always was and always will be.

and now here she was, helping her girlfriend pack her life in boxes once again. and this time, she was gonna be gone, far away from her, and azzi didn’t know if she could do it.

she padded over to paige’s room, the soft hum of her playlist playing over her purple speakers, and azzi couldn’t help but pause at the sight– just for a second, to watch. paige was kneeling on the floor by her bed, hair in that messy bun and glasses combo, sleeves pushed up, tongue poked slightly out in concentration as she battled a stubborn drawer. azzi’s heart fluttered at the sight of her now girlfriend, so casual and so hers.

“need help?” azzi called lightly, leaning on the doorway.

paige startled, almost smacking her head on the bed frame. “god– baby! you almost gave me a heart attack!”

azzi dropped her bag on the floor with a laugh, sauntering over to kick the drawer with a light smirk, “so you win a natty, and managed to be the top pick in the draft, and disassembling ikea furniture is where you draw the line. cool.”

“okay first, rude.” paige rolled her eyes in faux annoyance, but standing up anyways to pull azzi in for a quick kiss, “second, bro i swear. ever since i got this in freshman year it wouldn’t open or shut properly. it hates me.”

azzi laughed loudly, leaning in to kiss the pout away from paige’s lips who instantly perked up at the affection, “well now i’m here sooo, what do you need me to do?”

they got to work— sort of.

azzi got to work handing paige some folded shirts, deciding to steal a few to herself, making the blonde roll her eyes fondly. azzi claimed they were hers, but she knew they weren’t, she just needed more of paige’s scent and belongings in her closet, and she tried to ignore the slight pain in her heart that reminded her this was all fading away scarily fast. paige tried to be on task, clearing out her desk of her little momentos – an old wristband from one of their team events, a photo booth strip of her, kk, and ice, a basketball squishball a fan had gifted to her in one of their games, but she too got distracted by all the memories and got distracted reenacting the silly but heartfelt memories to her girlfriend.

azzi laughed and teased and tucked herself closer to paige every chance she got, but underneath it all, she couldn't help but feel the sting in her heart grow, and the creeping weight in her chest feel more noticeable. every box taped shut felt heavier, every poster and photo stripped from the walls felt more painful, and every empty corner of the room felt like a goodbye inching closer.

“you okay?” paige asked once, catching azzi’s face as she stared quietly at the now-bare walls.

“mhm,” azzi lied, quickly handing her a hoodie to pack.

but paige spent all her teenage years memorising that pretty face to be fooled, she’s seen every side, every emotion, and every facade azzi managed to throw her way. she could tell from the slight furrow in her eyebrows, the downturn of her lips, and the soft tone of her voice that something was there, and she was ninety percent sure it was the same feeling in her chest too.

by the time they collapsed on the bed– one of the only things still intact, the silence had stretched, filled with all the things neither of them wanted to say out loud. azzi lay on paige’s chest, nose buried in the fabric of her soft hoodie, trying to commit the smell, the softness of her girlfriend’s touch on her waist, the way stray blonde pieces framed paige’s face. everything she was gonna miss soon.

paige sat up slowly, running a hand through azzi’s freshly washed curls, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. her heart ached seeing azzi like this, knowing she felt the same fear of distance, of change, of missing each other in ways they hadn’t before.

“hey,” paige said gently. “stay there a second. i’ll be right back, okay?”

azzi blinked up at her as paige crossed the room swiftly to her desk. she rummaged through the top drawer, the only drawer they haven't cleared out yet, then returned, something delicate glinting in her hand. paige sat back down beside the younger, a light pink dusting her cheeks in the same way azzi remembered years ago in her, her heart stuttering the same exact way.

“i was gonna wait till later,” paige murmured, almost shy, “but, now seemed like a good time for something to cheer you up.”

she held out a thin gold chain, and hanging from it were two tiny, simple charms: the number 5 and a heart.

azzi’s breath caught.

“paige–”

“i know it’s a little cheesy,” paige rushed to explain, “a fan actually gave this to me a few months ago and i instantly thought of you.” she smiled, so shy and soft in a way that made azzi’s poor heart melt. “i don’t know, i just thought it’d be nice for you to have something near your heart. a reminder that i’m always yours.”

azzi reached out with trembling fingers, letting the necklace pool into her hand. it was small, almost weightless. but it felt huge.

“while i’m away in dallas and you’re still here, killing it as usual,” paige praised her subtly making azzi let out a tearful giggle, “you’ll have it and…well basically my entire hoodie collection.”

azzi laughed, still at a loss of words.

paige’s hand found the back of her neck, fingertips brushing gently. “turn around?”

azzi turned instantly, pulling her curls to one side. paige carefully clasped the necklace around her girl’s neck, placing a careful kiss at the expanse of smooth skin watching as goosebumps arose.

when azzi turned around with glassy eyes and a wobbly smile with her fingers clutching the charms like it was her lifeline, paige’s heart couldn’t help but practically crack open at the sight, a wave of sadness and love washing over her.

“you’re such a sap,” azzi managed, voice thick.

“yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“unfortunately,” azzi teased, sniffling through a smile.

paige chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to her temple, but azzi suddenly pulled back with a look of faux seriousness.

“wait, i have something for you too” she said, reaching for the side pocket of her duffel bag. she dug around for a second, then pulled out a brightly colored beaded bracelet.

paige squinted. “is that–”

“yeah,” azzi said proudly, holding it up. “made it last week after the championship when i couldn’t sleep. i was gonna save it for the airport, but… fair’s fair.”

paige felt her heart soften impossibly, feeling tears sting her own eyes, “azzi, baby…”

azzi settled beside her once again, “it’s blue and green. for uconn and dallas,” she continued, slipping it around paige’s wrist delicately, “then i put a little pink heart for us.”

paige blinked, watching her fingers move.

“this feels like highschool all over again,” she laughed softly, azzi joining her in giggles.

“exactly,” azzi smirked. “perfectly on brand for us if you ask me.”

paige looked down at the little beads, now tied securely on her wrist, her thumb brushing over the knot. “i love it,” she said honestly. “you made this? for me, az?”

“yeah!” azzi beamed, “and now it’s official. anyone looks at you too long, you flash the bracelet. mine. taken by azzi fudd. very unavailable.”

paige let out a chuckle of disbelief, feeling so lucky and so in love she could burst. “you are so dangerous,” paige muttered, dragging her into a kiss.

they melted into it instantly, azzi’s hands finding her familiar place on paige’s neck, pulling slightly at the loose strands of hair paige missed in her messy bun. trailing hands found their way to azzi’s waist, her shirt that paige was pretty sure was originally hers sliding up as her fingers trace shapes on her bare back, making azzi sigh into the kiss. paige only deepened it, unbearably soft and lingering and full of all the things they didn’t say when they were busy being sarcastic. when they pulled back, they didn’t go far.

azzi rested her forehead against paige’s. “promise you’ll wear it?”

“every single day,” paige whispered, brushing their noses softly. “you’ll wear the necklace?”

“obviously. i have a number one fan position to maintain.” she teased, a surge of pride and fondness filling paige’s chest as she laughed.

they sat there for a moment longer, the light filtering in through the window, their matching gifts catching the sun in quiet flickers.

cause at the end, it’ll always be them.

and that’s all they needed.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fic #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #pazzi one shot #lets say it together THANK YOU AZZI‼️

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asaarii · 3 months ago

Text

ft: mohawk!mark (invincible) reader: fem wc: 1486 summary: in which mark is down bad for a punk!reader requested by: @qxuanii

i hope you enjoy reading this bc i enjoyed writing it!! hopefully the characters aren't too out of character lol...(praying bc I will start chewing rocks if nobody reads this)

also for some reason i can't spell mohawk for the life of me (I keep spelling mowhawk)

He was a goner from the moment he laid eyes on you.

The first time Mark lays eyes on you, he’s just started junior year and is already in detention for allowing his temper to get the best of him despite being only two weeks into the school year. In all honesty, the loser had it coming with how much he kept bugging Mark. About what exactly…eh, the details don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, y’know? Though, he supposes he could’ve held his punch a little better.

You know, developing powers and all that dumb shit his mom keeps yapping about.

Your eyes flicker from your phone onto him with a cocked, pierced brow, and Mark hates the way his heart skips a beat as your curious gaze bores into him. He holds your stare with narrowed eyes, taking in the odd style of your hair and relaxed posture, your legs kicked up haphazardly onto the back of the desk in front of yours. Despite your less-than-conventional appearance, you smile at him. It’s small and half-hearted, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

He clicks his tongue, breaking your gaze and taking the desk furthest from you in the far corner of the classroom before slouching in the uncomfortable plastic seat. The dim light of his phone illuminates his face as he sends a quick text to his mom after her thirteenth message asking where he was. It shuts off with a click, leaving him staring at his cracked reflection in his screen protector.

A moment passes and Mark ultimately decides to take a nap, his back bending awkwardly to accommodate the low angle of the desk while the edge of it presses against his sternum.

Then, he hears it, the faint notes of a Green Day song reverberating through his sensitive ears, unheard by the snoring teacher slumped at the front desk. The source? None other than you, who continues to scroll on your phone, oblivious to the ire you’ve evoked from the half-blooded Viltrumite.

Rummaging through his bag, he pulls out a syllabus he didn’t care enough to get signed, crumpling it before throwing it at the back of your head. You make a strangled sound upon contact, confusion evident in your gaze as you whip your head to him fast enough that Mark’s sure you’ve given yourself whiplash.

“What the hell, man?” You struggle to keep your voice low as your eyes narrow at him and you finally pause your music.

He gestures vaguely to your headphones, but before you can respond a loud snore interrupts whatever you’d planned to say. You turn to the teacher, observing the steady rise and fall of his shoulders before glancing back to Mark. Without another word, you gather your bag and simply walk out of the classroom.

He doesn’t know what compels him, but Mark follows you out of the classroom, bag thrown lazily over his shoulder as he trails behind you. The school is quiet with no clubs or sports teams active this early on in the year, making his loud steps all the more apparent as he falls in step beside you.

You spare him a glance from the corner of your eye, blinking at him from beneath your heavy liner and thick lashes. “There a reason you’re following me, weirdo?”

You’re one to talk, he thinks to himself cynically, but he only responds with a shrug, the simple action making his toned shoulders all the more apparent beneath his baggy shirt. You turn away with a small click of your tongue, unwanting to entertain the admittedly handsome stranger any longer.

“What did you get detention for,” he suddenly asks and you stop in your tracks, turning to him for what feels like the eightieth time in the last twenty minutes. He’s smirking curiously at you and you catch a glimpse of a frog eye piercing when he darts his tongue out to lick his dried lips.

Your lip lifts slightly as you breathe out a small laugh through your nose. “Just some vandalism. You?”

Mark whistles lowly, his wolfish smirk widening as he invades your personal bubble. “Have you heard what happened to good ol’ Jerry?”

Recognition flickers across your face before your eyes widen. “Dude, no way. You’re Grayson?”

“One and fuckin’ only, baby.”

You’re quick to grow as one of Mark’s favorite sights, with him finding a rather odd sense of comfort when his gaze finds your leather-clad shoulders, spiked cuffs often glinting in the sunlight. He would have you, he was sure of it. Because Mark was nothing if not dedicated, as you would soon come to learn.

“I heard Grayson’s been keeping tabs on you,” one of your friends snorts, jutting her chin in the direction of none other than Mark himself, who looks rather disinterested in the conversation he’s currently having with Samantha Eve Wilkins, the school’s resident golden girl.

You spare them a glance, momentarily taking your eyes off your compact mirror. As if sensing your gaze, Mark turns to you, a familiar grin pulling at his lips, raising his hand in a lazy wave. You scoff, rolling your eyes before returning your focus to fixing your eyeliner.

“Come on,” she goads, nudging your shoulder, “I bet he’d be pretty cute with a mohawk.” She takes note of the way your expression seems to glaze over; your eyes inadvertently traveling to the dark-haired boy who’s now laughing as he kicks some random kid into a locker, much to the dismay of Samantha, who watches on with a frown.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re totally into that.” Her voice lilts teasingly and you scoff again.

You turn to her with a piercing glare, your lip pulled into a snarl as you push her away from you. “Fuck off. I couldn’t care less what Mark does with his stupid ass hair.” Taking her by the arm, you proceed to drag her down the hall, mumbling something about practicing for a concert that your friend only laughs off.

In your haste to leave, you don’t see Mark turn in your direction knowingly, only for his expression to fall when someone continues to drone on in his ear about his duties as a budding hero or some other stupid shit.

“Mark, I’m being serious—”

“Oh my god, do you ever just shut the fuck up? Of course, I know you’re being serious, dipshit,” he laughs sardonically, shoving his way past the seething redhead as he bats his lashes sarcastically and pretends to cry. “Wahh! The Guardians can’t have me around for their wittwe tea pawties—well, tough shit, because I’ve got my own things to deal with.”

The second he’s outside of the school, he takes off flying, ignoring the angered yells thrown his way by Samantha with a roll of his eyes. He’s got plans, and a team meeting with the Guardians sure as hell isn’t as important as impressing you, that’s for sure.

When he lands, he’s immediately reprimanded by his mother for being so rash with his powers, but he doesn’t even acknowledge her. Instead, he merely rolls his neck before locking himself in the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for him to find Nolan’s electric razor. Around thirty minutes and three YouTube tutorials later, he’s admiring his handiwork in the extensive mirror. He does admit, his head feels a little cold, but the more he strokes the sides, the more assurance he builds.

Yeah, he looks hot as hell.

He cleans up the mess of fallen hair because as much as he likes to bitch and moan, he’s not a complete monster. The only thing on his mind as he sweeps is the cute look he’s sure you’ll have on your face that contrasts the rest of your look.

The rest of his night goes by in a blur, his emotions high despite the horrified gasp of his mother when he sauntered into the dining room for dinner. She held her tongue, much to his relief.

Come morning he was practically grinning like an idiot by the time he caught sight of you lingering just outside of the school. He calls out your name as he approaches, taking the time to admire how well your leather pants clung to your form, the attached chains clinking as you turn to face him. Your makeup is different—of course, he notices, what do you take him for, an idiot? Your liner is still bold, swirled with a design only a practiced hand could procure, but what draws him in is the dark shade of lipstick you’ve decided on today.

“What is it, Mark—”

His gaze is almost predatory with how intensely he watches your lips part at the sight of him, ears catching the slight hitch in your breath and the rapid increase in your heart rate.

Now he’s got you right where he wants you.

Hook.

Line.

And sinker.

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site or run my works through ai

#invincible—・❥#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible x fem!reader #fem reader #mohawk mark #mohawk mark x reader #invincible fanfic

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amoeganism · 9 months ago

Text

REASONS WHY SAE ITOSHI THINKS YOU'RE A MURDERER

you're kinda fucked up but not a criminal! but don't worry, sae kinda likes it

happy late birthday sae itoshi ur a cunt i love u

THE APARTMENT

The first time Sae meets you is at Aiku’s birthday party. He hadn’t intended on going, but it was either going to the function or have Oliver and the rest of the U-20 team get on his ass for being a no-show. Both options sucked, but Sae ultimately decided on wearing some plain, black button-up and one of the five identical black slacks he owns (they were bought at the same time, Sae doesn’t know why he did that but he had an urge and he had the money). When Aiku opened the door to apartment 408, the first thing Sae noticed was you, still dressed in creased and suspiciously stained pajamas, dragging a black garbage bag across the floor. He made the wrong decision, Sae concluded.

It was at the party where he got formally introduced and learned your name. He expected to forget it but that night, he found himself searching it on Google, making sure you weren’t a criminal just to sleep without worries. Before drifting off, he swore he saw a search recommendation as “...’s victims” but he’d rather not go to practice the next morning with the heebie jeebies.

THE DEPARTMENT STORE

A shelf of pots stood in front of Sae, each one lined perfectly with each other as a row of pans hung from above. Sae ran his fingers across the handle of a black stainless steel pan, feeling the cold metal glide across the rough calluses of his fingertips. Ever since he landed in Japan and moved out of his parents’ place, his diet was lacking and blasphemous for an athlete of his caliber. The culinary skills he had acquired in Spain were put to waste in his apartment that looked more like a rent listing.

“Oh, Itoshi? Good morning!” At the sound of his name, Sae shut his eyes and inwardly groaned. The last thing he needed to deal with was a fan approaching him in public but the recognition of an oddly familiar voice urged him to take a slight glance at whom it may be. In the corner of his eye, there stood you, holding the largest butcher’s knife he had ever seen in his eighteen years of living.

The blade was the size of your head, reflecting the beaming smile on your face, one too bright for your menacing stance. Your eyes glimmered underneath the department store’s white lights as you grabbed the handle of the weapon with both hands after rapidly waving. Sae’s heartbeat intensified and he placed the reason for the imminent threat before him—there could be no other definitely more rational reason.

Sae grumbled back a “good morning” before walking off with a sturdy saute pan. He could not answer if it was out of fear, to be polite, or maybe a secret (and evil) third option.

THE ATTEMPT

Hot steam had fogged the mirrors of Sae’s bathroom when he stepped out of the shower. As he dried his hair, the screen of his phone lit up with a new notification. Recently, the only phone alerts he had been getting were from his manager and occasionally his parents. It wasn’t that Sae Itoshi was a loser—he just hated almost everyone in his contacts. But when he opened his phone to an unknown number, his brows furrowed in confusion.

YOU: hi its y/n!!! oliver gave me ur number hope u dont mind ^_^

SAE: <thumbs up>

YOU: thumbs are my fav finger by far they look so chewy

SAE: Wtf

YOU: do u wanna get lunch together tmrw :D

SAE: Ok

SAE: Why tomorrow

YOU: I know what your entire schedule is.

YOU: Meet me at my apartment at 12:00 PM

YOU: Do not be late.

SAE: <thumbs up>

Sae looked out of his window and made sure all his doors were locked before going to bed (but he also stood in front of the full-body mirror in his room, holding different shirts and pants up to himself, wondering what you would like to see).

THE ATTACK

Apartment 408 smelled strongly of herbs and spices when you opened the door for Sae. The cologne he had put on that morning would be overpowered by your cooking and he’d drive home reeking of a hearty lunch rather than designer fragrance. On the kitchen island, a pot of stew rested on a large coaster as a rice cooker was set to “Keep Warm” on the counter. The strong aroma was delightful to his senses and the slight rumbling of his stomach led him to sit and quietly thank you for cooking.

“What do you want to drink? I got all kinds of tea and beer ‘cause Oliver is kinda an alcoholic,” you ask, holding the refrigerator door open waiting for him.

“Water is fine, thanks.”

You grab a pitcher and glass for him then move back to the dishwater for plates and utensils. Before sitting, you untie your light blue apron and fold it next to the kitchen sink. If Sae were any other person, he would almost miss the suspicious red stain in the inside of the pocket but considering the two of you were in an environment with several potential weapons in the vicinity, Sae decided keeping quiet was the smartest choice.

“I hope you like beef stew, Oliver says it’s the least potent thing I make and would have the best impression on you,” you confess. “Help yourself, I don’t think I put anything lethal in it.”

“Don’t think?” Sae questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Who knows with all the chemistry shit that happens, maybe I made mustard gas without knowing…”

“You invited me over, shouldn’t you care more about the guest’s safety?”

“Not really, it’s more exciting this way. Aren’t you feeling a thrill right now?”

“I’m only feeling concern for myself.”

“Isn’t that so fun?” you inquire with too much glee for the predicament. Sae thinks you’re 100% fucked up in the head and thinks he has around a 80% of making it out alive. “It’s like Russian Roulette!”

"Haven’t you considered that the average person doesn’t want to die from poisoning?”

“Who said you would die?”

“You?”

“Oh. Whoops. Still exciting though! Let’s see who wins!”

It didn’t take long for Sae to finish the last of his meal—it was unfortunately tasty. Sae wiped his mouth clean with a napkin you gave him and brought his dishes to the sink.

“Guess you didn’t kill me,” Sae nudges you with a smug grin. “You should try harder next time.”

“Wait—next time?”

“Yeah. Try again text week, I’ll text you my schedule.”

“Thank you so much for that, you don’t know how much I had to spend to get this week’s schedule from a stalker fan,” you confess in relief, blissfully unaware of Sae rapidly turning his head to stare at you.

“You what?”

“You’re literally the best; rent’s coming up so I really need that.”

Sae concludes you’re a danger to society but to keep himself and the public safe, he has to see you again. Sitting in his car, he quickly pulls out his phone and sends his manager a text to keep Tuesday of next week free—that’s when you have the most time (to spend with him). He puts the date in his calendar and this time, turns the notification on.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock itoshi sae #blue lock sae #bllk sae #blue lock fluff #sae itoshi fluff

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dailynnt · 4 months ago

Text

──── A QUARREL, ALCOHOL AND YOU...

𓏭 Summary: You furious. The fight at the party still reverberates in your head, but instead of forgetting about him, you stands at his door at five in the morning, drunk, stubborn, and still hurt.

𓏭 Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

𓏭 Age restrictions: 18+

𓏭 Size: one shot

𓏭 Tags: from friends to lovers, sex, unprotected sex, sex while drunk, swearing, sexual tension, detailed description of intimate scenes

𓏭 From author: Don't blame me for writing about it again 🤭 I don't know what you should do with me, but I adore the theme of friends/lovers and just couldn't resist writing something about it again. I described Jungkook here as always cocky and persistent because ....ummm I love this kind of Jungkook 😌😃 I hope you like this story 👉🏻👈🏻 If you don't, just pass by 🙏🏻

Your mind is foggy. You don't know how you ended up here. When the taxi driver asked where to take you, you told him the address of his apartment. You get out of the car and smell the warm smell of a summer morning. You bang the car door and take a deep breath. "How annoying," you think. You hear the sound of the engine and the black Hyundai drives away.

You stagger to the entrance. Your steps were determined, if a little shaky, as you approached the familiar house. Your fingers nervously clutched the phone, but you weren't going to call him. He wasn't expecting you anyway.

It's almost five in the morning, and he's long since left the party you two were at. However, you didn't know when exactly he did it. You had a fight and you were one hundred percent sure it was all his fault. He could be surprised to see you. And he certainly won't expect see you right now to be drunk.

You've come to tell him what a rare asshole he is, even though he's your best friend.

The glass doors of the entrance slammed shut on some man who stepped outside, but you didn't even slow down, just pulled out your phone and quickly dialed the access code. A short beep, a click, and the door opened smoothly. The guard on the ground floor didn't pay you any attention. He had seen you here many times, leaving in the morning or staying late. You were best friends and you were a frequent guest in his apartment.

The elevator took you to the right floor. The metal booth reflected your reflection - slightly disheveled hair, a blush from drinking alcohol, a twinkle in your eye. You didn't even try to hide your emotions.

You reached apartment number 130 and knocked on the door, desperately and demandingly. You leaned on the wall near the front door with your hand to steady your relaxed body.

You don't know how long it took before his apartment door opened. You looked up. Your friend was standing on the threshold, shirtless in just shorts, looking at you in surprise. You slowly ran your eyes over his figure and smiled slightly. You paid attention to the tattoo that covered his right arm. He was hot as hell with that tattoo and perfect abs.

"Didn’t sleep, asshole?" - You asked cheekily. Jungkook tilted his head and hummed softly. He looked down at you, and his eyes showed a familiar irritation mixed with hidden amusement.

"You had a great time, I see." - His voice was low, hoarse from sleep. He crossed his arms over his chest, and you involuntarily ran your eyes down his torso again, a little longer than you should have.

"It's none of your business." - You pushed off the doorjamb and took a step forward, unsteadily. Jungkook effortlessly caught your elbow, stabilizing you.

"Yeah, not mine." - He raised one eyebrow. "It's just my drunken friend standing on my doorstep at five in the morning, calling me names for no reason." - He said, still holding you, his touch soft on your skin. You were wearing a light summer dress with straps, his favorite black color. You abruptly pulled your hand away and, taking a deep breath, straightened up again.

"Not without reason. I came to tell you that you're a real brat. I thought you were my friend, but you're an asshole..." - Your head was spinning from the amount of alcohol you'd drunk.

"Really?" - His lips stretched into a smile. "And you had to skip a few cocktails to come at such a time and say it?" - You rolled your eyes, but he stepped aside, letting you inside. "Come on in before the neighbors decide to call security." - He said. You walked proudly past him, bumping him with your shoulder. The apartment smelled like him - citrus, light notes of expensive perfume, and something cozy, homey.

Jungkook closed the door and turned to you, his gaze a little more serious.

"You didn't come to talk about the same thing again, did you?" - Jungkook asked, alluding to the fight that happened between the two of you at the party you went together. You were angry with your friend for dumping you for some girl, even though he supposedly came with you to that fucking party. You turned to him sharply.

"That's right, Jeon. We didn't finish talking because you ran off right away. I honestly didn't know you were such a sensitive soul." - You said sarcastically. "Anyway, you were acting like a complete idiot!"

He frowned and hummed in confusion.

"A sensitive soul? Are you talking about me right now? You were the one who started this fight." - Your friend reminded you, approaching you. You ignored his irritated tone.

"You came with me to that damn party. Do you think you had the right to sit with that slut?" - You ask, your tongue almost tangled. You're a little unsteady. His lips stretch into an amused smile.

"Wait..." - He took a step toward you. "Are you jealous?"

You clenched your fists, feeling the heat of his proximity.

"What jealousy Kook?" - You shouted, waving your hand in front of his face. "You dumped me, it's obvious I'm angry. You know I'm only went to this fucking party because you dragged me there."

Jungkook couldn't stop laughing. His laughter made you even angrier.

"Are you serious?!" - You took a step toward him, jabbing your finger at his bare chest. "This makes you laugh?!" - Jungkook caught your hand, and his fingers closed around your wrist in a hot fist. He was still smiling, but his eyes were getting darker by the second.

"You amuse me." - His voice dropped a tone lower. You jerked hand, but he didn't let go. On the contrary, he pulled you even closer, forcing your conversation to become too intimate.

"I dragged you there so you could have fun and take a break from your hard work... But if so, you should have told me right away that you wanted me for yourself." - You became almost sober in the moment. Jungkook was standing close and you didn't think that your conversation could come to this.

"What?!" - You stared at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.

"Well, how could it not?" - Jungkook leaned in, his lips almost touching your cheekbone. "I'm not supposed to sit with other girls because my friend is jealous? Is that how you explain your claims and this ridiculous fight at the party?"

"I wasn't jealous, you left me alone, it made me angry..." - You're trying to justify yourself, or rather you're trying to prove him your right, but he seems to see the situation the way he wants to see it.

"Do you even believe what you're saying?" - He asks. His voice has gone even lower. He has you pinned between his body and the wall in the hallway leading to the living room of his apartment. There was something dangerous in his eyes. "Because right now you look like a girl who was definitely jealous."

You held your breath as his fingers slowly slid along your shoulder, lightly touching your bare skin.

"What are you doing? Jungkook, get away from me." - You wanted your voice to sound firm, but it trembled.

"I don't want to." - His lips slid down, his warm breath brushing against your neck. "For that matter, I'm curious about what happens next." - His touch was driving you crazy. A hot wave ran through your body, and your breath hitched.

"You're taking advantage of me being drunk!" - You tried to shame him. But he probably was drinking too, because he drank at that party. You didn't expect that when you went to your friend to settle things, he would start hitting on you.

"Isn't that what you came for?" - His breath left hot marks on your body. No, that's not why you came. Or...? You held your breath as you felt his arm slide around your waist, making your heart beat faster. Jungkook leaned even closer, so that your breath mingled with his. His lips slid lower, leaving a hot trail on your neck. He didn't kiss you or anything, you felt him slowly inhale your scent.

You pressed your hands against his chest, trying to keep your distance, but he was unyielding. His fingers tightened around your waist, pressing your body closer.

"I came here to fight with you, not..." - You couldn't continue because you heard his voice next to your ear.

"Not what?" - He whispered next to your ear and then lightly bit your earlobe. You sucked in a shaky breath.

"Jungkook..." - You called out to him. Either to stop him or to ask him to continue.

"Shh..." - His hand gently brushed the curve of your back. "This is what you want. So don't pretend you don't like it."

You knew you had to break free, to tell him that this was wrong, that he was crossing the line. That you were friends and he shouldn't touch you like that. But your body didn't listen. His touch burned you, left you defenseless.

His lips finally found yours. You thought it was a dream. A dream you've had a thousand times. But his lips were real.

At first he kissed you teasingly, slowly, as if giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn't. So he broke in more greedily, deeper, forcing your fingers to clutch his skin. The piercing on his lip felt good as he deepened the kiss. His tongue entered your mouth because you easily let it happen. His naked torso pressed against you. His hand had already slipped under the hem of your light summer dress and squeezed your flesh on your buttocks.

"That's why you were angry..." - He murmured against your lips, barely pulling away. "Because you wanted me to be with you." His fingers slid over your shoulder, pushing the strap of your dress down. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll stop." - His voice was husky, full of dark desire. You opened your lips, trying to answer him, but instead of words, only a heavy exhalation came out. Jungkook smiled. "That's what I thought."

Jungkook leaned in again, his lips pressing against your neck, leaving wet marks. His breathing was heavy, almost lighting a fire in your body. He ran a long, wet streak across your skin as if savoring it.

"A little uncomfortable for what I want to do." - He muttered as he gently picked you up by your hips. You let out a small cry. You barely managed to grab onto his shoulders as he lifted you into his arms. His strength had always amazed you, but now it seemed even more palpable as his fingers held you steady, as if you weighed nothing.

"Kook!" - You gasped as he easily pushed off the wall and carried you deeper into the apartment.

"Don't be afraid, I won't drop you." - He assures you, but you are not afraid. You trust him, as you have hundreds of times before. You just didn't expect this.

He walked into the living room, confidently, never taking his dark gaze off you. His eyes were burning, but there was still that playful spark in them that you knew.

"You're so..." - You muttered, not taking your eyes off of him. You couldn't see where he was taking you.

"Like what?" - He asked, sitting down on the couch and putting you on his lap.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. The distance between you was tiny. His hands held you tightly, one on your back and the other on your hip. You felt his every move, his every breath.

"Unbearable." - You said. He laughed softly and ran his fingers along your naked back, making you shudder.

"But you like it, don't you?" - His voice sounded deeper, with undisguised playfulness. You didn't answer, because the next moment his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, making you forget everything.

Jungkook pressed your body closer to him, his fingers biting into your skin, leaving a hot trail. His lips moved boldly over yours, he took his time, savoring every touch, making your heart beat even faster.

"You taste so sweet..." - He murmured, moving to your jaw and then down to the sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his palms slide slowly down your back, lifting the fabric of your dress. Your breath hitched, and you instinctively squeezed his shoulders, feeling the hot skin beneath your fingers.

"We can't do this..." - You said, breathing heavily. Your voice was trembling. You weren't supposed to do this because you were... friends?

"Shh..." - He hissed against your lips. He brushed the tip of his nose lightly across your cheekbone. "I want to savor this moment." - Jungkook has discovered that you're not wearing a bra and he smiles with satisfaction. He moves away and removes his hands from under your dress. His fingers catch the thin straps and pull them down. He pulls your dress down and it comes together on your stomach. Your breasts are exposed.

He wastes no time in taking one of your tits in his hands and squeezing it, and you instantly feel aroused. He bends down and you feel his wet tongue on your excited nipple. He tastes it, sucks it, plays with it. You moan softly. There is a pleasant pain in your lower abdomen that can only be stopped by creating some friction. Your thong is bunched up and the moisture between your legs seems to be leaking onto his black shorts.

When Jungkook slides his hand between your bodies and finds your clit, you tremble in his lap. He starts massaging it while sucking on your nipple.

Suddenly, he stops sucking your nipple, but he doesn't leave your needy clit. You can't stop shivering from the feel of his fingers. Jungkook stimulates your sensitive center until you come on his fingers. You squeeze his flesh on his strong shoulders, moaning against his face.

He withdraws his finger and leans back, pressing your hips with his hands even tighter against him, and then tilts his head relaxedly, watching you.

"I'm your friend... Why are you trembling in my arms?" - He asked. His words burned you and made you close your eyes.

"Because you're not acting like a friend." - You breathe out, swallowing the lump in your throat and still feeling the orgasm he caused with his fingers.

"Maybe you want to stop?" - Jungkook ask. His palms slowly slid down your thighs, and his fingers gently but firmly squeezed your skin. He looked up, looking you straight in the eyes, and his dark pupils reflected the same fire that was now burning in you. Obviously, you can't stop, not now. So you keep quiet, just enjoy what's happening.

He thrusts his hips and you hold your breath, only now realizing how hard he is. His bulge presses against your wet pussy. You inhale and start riding his hips yourself. The feeling of friction is good. Jungkook looks absolutely lustfully at his friend, who is shamelessly riding on his lap, trying to have a second orgasm.

You dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Does that feel good, sweetie?" - He asks, admiring your expression. Your eyes are closed. Your eyebrows are furrowed in bliss and your hair is standing on end. Your hair is disheveled and you're so fucking sexy.

"Yes..." - You say confidently, feeling like you're on the verge. You're about to come for the second time today. You jump on his lap, bringing yourself to orgasm. Your clit twitches and bliss covers you with a new wave of sweet bliss. You let out a louder moan and Jungkook's cock twitches at your sounds.

You stop and breathe heavily. You open your eyes and see Jungkook's gaze filled with unbridled desire. You suddenly panic, realizing that you just came just riding his hard bulge. But Jungkook seems to see this and instantly pulls you in for a kiss. His hand is on your neck, squeezing so that you don't have a chance to pull away. But you didn't even want to.

Jungkook puts you down on the couch and hovers over you. He kisses your neck. Your breathing is ragged and you feel like you're getting wet again, harder and more.

"I want to fuck you." - He says his desire into your lips. You open your eyes and see him so close. "You'll let me?" - He asks, and he sounds innocent. You want to swallow your saliva, but your throat is dry. You let him, because you want that he to do it.

"Yes." - You say shortly but confidently, squeezing his skin a little with excitement. Jungkook smiles with satisfaction.

"Yes? Do you thought well about it?" - Jungkook asks another question, which throws you into a stupor. His eyes are dark, and his smile becomes cocky. He deliberately doesn't look away, as if he's studying you, catching every little change in your expression. "If you say yes now... there will be no turning back."

Your heart beats faster. He says this in such a playful yet dangerous tone that you feel a mix of excitement and impatience.

"You think I don't realize that?" - Your voice sounds confident, but he seems to hear a slight tremor. Jungkook leans closer, his lips almost touching yours.

"I just want you to be sure..." - He runs his nose along your jaw and then, with a sly smile, bites the skin somewhere between your jaw and neck. "Because once I start..." - He pauses deliberately, his breath mingling with yours. "I won't be able to stop."

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling his voice burn your skin.

"And who says I want you to stop?" - You ask even more confidently. You wanted him to fuck you as soon as this game between you started. Jungkook laughs softly before his lips cover yours in a passionate, deep kiss. His tongue takes over yours and sets the pace for your kiss.

Jungkook suggests that you move to his bedroom for more comfort, and you don't mind. Not even a minute later, you're already kissing as you move to his bedroom. When you reach the bed, he gently puts you down and climbs on top of you. You spread your legs so that he can fit comfortably between them.

When he has enjoyed your plump lips enough, he starts to undress you. He doesn't like any of your clothes. So it takes less than twenty seconds for you to lie completely naked in front of your friend. Your breasts rise and fall quickly. Goosebumps cover your body and you know for sure that they are not from the summer chill of the morning that comes in through the open window in his bedroom. They are provoked by Jungkook's touch.

He runs his fingers over your body, drawing patterns that only he can understand. He lingers a few seconds longer at your nipples. He pinches one of them, making you hiss in pain.

"Fuck, I've imagined this picture so many times, but who knew you were so fucking hot in real life?" - Jungkook asks, and you don't know if this question is addressed to you. He glances at your wet pussy and the next moment his fingers are on it.

He gently runs his fingers over your clit and you tremble again. And then his fingers plunge into your passage. You want to squeeze your legs together to endure the sensation, but Jungkook's other hand is spreading your legs. You grab the sheets and dig your nails into the fabric.

"So wet, so tight... I need to fill you up soon, baby." - Jungkook says, and you let out a barely audible moan in agreement with his words. You can't wait.

When Jungkook decides you're stretched out enough, he gets off the bed and quickly pulls off his shorts, which he wasn't wearing underwear under. Only now, looking at his aroused cock, do you realize that it felt so good through the fabric of his shorts because he was wearing nothing else.

Jungkook hurries over to you. You can see his hard cock. It bounces as Jungkook moves toward you.

You wriggle with anticipation as he takes your legs and drapes them over his shoulders, settling in close to his entrance. He smears your wetness with his fingers, and then rolls his cock with his hand and places it against your entrance.

Jungkook presses against your passage and slowly plunges in. When the head of his cock reaches the place where the hymen used to be, you scream softly, squeezing his biceps harder. He stops to look at your face. Jungkook leans in and you feel his lips on yours.

He kisses you, a little hastily but gently. You feel him twitch, and after a moment, your friend continues to sink into you. He continues to kiss you, as if to distract you from penetration. His size hurts you, but when he reaches the end, he parted your lips and you both exhale blissfully.

"That feels good, doesn't it, baby?" - He asks against your lips.

"Hell…yeah." - You assure him. Jungkook gives a gentle thrust with his hips and you can't help but think about how wonderful he is filling you with his cock. You squeeze his biceps to ease the pain that's still a little present. But with each new thrust of Jungkook's hips, you realize that the pain is disappearing, giving way to only pleasant pleasure.

Jungkook fucks you slowly, deeply. You enjoy the friction he creates, your eyes are closed and moans escape your lips. You can hear your bodies hitting each other, and it feels so natural, like you're having sex all the time, not for the first time.

Jungkook stops and you open your eyes. He's smiling, and you don't know why he's doing it.

Jungkook leans in closer, sliding his nose along your cheek before pressing his lips to your ear.

"What?" - You ask, feeling him stiffen inside you, and his smile seemingly widen.

"Just... I feel like I'm setting a new record. I've never seen you like this..."

"Like what?" - You squeeze his skin a little harder, suspecting he's about to do something.

"Like this..." - He pauses, pretending to search for a word. "Pleased with my, um, talent."

You snort, trying to stifle a laugh, but he immediately gives you a short but deep thrust, making you forget what it was that made you laugh so hard.

"Jungkook!" - You hiss, and he cheekily kisses you on the lips.

"Tell me, what's my grade? Ten out of ten?" - He moves again, driving his cock deeper into you. You can't answer even if you wanted to. All you do is moan and dig your nails into his skin on your back. Jungkook presses his body against you, pulling your legs up under his press before doing so. He whispers right into your lips.

"You're holding me like you're afraid I'm going to run away." - He says in a low voice. You roll your eyes, finding the strength to speak, but stutter a little with pleasure.

"Maybe I am. What if you decide to go get a drink of water and don't come back?" - You say your opinion. Jungkook stops and you look at his eyes.

He laughs hoarsely, grabs you tightly by the hips, and without taking his hands off you, rolls you over so that you are now on top.

"I'm definitely not going anywhere. How can I leave this juicy, tight pussy without cumming around my cock?" - He asks. You try to put on an offended face, but all you can manage is a weary smile. He squeezes your hips to guide you where he wants you to go.

"I thought so." - You say. You can't help but laugh between contented sighs, because he's so cocky, so confident, that you just don't have the strength to resist. But you don't seem to want to. You slowly lean in closer, touching your lips to his ear, and whisper:

"So maybe you'll set another new record?" - You ask seductively and give a slow, deep thrust with your hips. Jungkook can barely contain his moan. Your fingers slowly scratch his chest.

"Yes, baby." - His voice is deep, hoarse, and full of desire. "I'm going to fuck you until you beg for mercy." - He promises. But you huff a mocking humor and deliberately rock your hips slowly, making him close his eyes and squeeze your waist tighter.

"You think you can promise that now?" - You ask. Jungkook opens his eyes, and you see something dangerous, something devilish in them. His hands go down to your hips, squeezing them so tightly that you can barely hold back a shudder.

"I can..." - He suddenly rises up on his elbows, then sits down, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning into your ear, whispering hotly. "I can do everything and even more... hold on tight, because I won't stop until you beg."

You don't even have time to respond, because he rolls you onto your back and abruptly changes the rhythm, forcing your lips to reach for his skin in an attempt to drown out the pleasure that is overwhelming you.

Jungkook fucks you mercilessly, making you moan loudly. He liked how you tried to dominate him, tempting him to prove that he could fuck you well. And he was proving it. His cock is deep inside you, and it's just perfect. The sinful sounds of your bodies hitting each other is a delight to his ears. Your moans are the perfect melody.

You squeeze his shoulders, trying to somehow stay afloat amid the waves of pleasure he's mercilessly rolling over you.

"Kook..." - Your voice trembles, and he smiles, knowing that you're almost on the edge.

"What, baby?" - His voice sounds too pleased. You don't answer, just scratch him, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. "Tired?" - He asks.

"You're... too..." - You can't finish the sentence because he picks you up again in that passionate rhythm.

"Too what?" - Your friend asks mockingly. "Too good?" - You roll your eyes.

"Too cocky! As usual." - You barely say. He laughs, but doesn't stop. His hands slide hotly over your body, leaving marks that are only his. But you're both on the verge of coming. So Jungkook decides it's time to end it. He grabs your hands and holds them above your head. He intertwines your fingers and asks you to look into his eyes.

Jungkook leans even closer, so that his breath burns your skin and his eyes, full of passion, bore into yours. He squeezes your fingers tighter, pinning them to the pillow, and whispers with depth in his voice.

"Look at me. I want you to remember this moment. So that even when you become sober, you remember that I did it. That I gave you the greatest pleasure of your life by fucking you so well." - He says, and his words make you tremble even more, your eyes darken. You can't do anything but obey him, trust his every move, every hot touch. He doesn't look away, watching you dissolve in this whirlwind of sensations, your world shrinking to him alone.

And then there is an explosion.

A loud, all-encompassing explosion that makes you grab onto him even harder, as if he were your only support in this world. And he really doesn't let go. He just leans down to your ear when the last waves of pleasure subside and says with a smile pressed to your temples.

"You are mine now, baby. And you'll never be able to forget it." - He fucks you until he feels himself coming. He pulls out of you abruptly and his hot cum paints your stomach. You breathe heavily as you feel him spewing his cum. Finally, he stops and breathes heavily too.

You lie there trying to catch your breath as the realization of what just happened begins to wash over you. Jungkook gets off of you and goes to the bathroom, takes some napkins and brings them to you. He sits down next to you and wipes the rest of the cum off your stomach.

The air in the room is still hot from your shared madness, and Jungkook, who lies down and covers you with a sheet, looks at you with a subtle smile.

"You look like someone who's thinking: 'What the hell have I done?" - He says, leaning slightly on his elbow to see you better. You exhale sharply and cover your face with your hand.

"Shouldn't I be thinking that?" - You mutter through your fingers. Jungkook laughs and gently pulls your hand down, forcing you to look at him.

"Well, at least you had a good time." - He speaks for you, and you agree with him completely, even though you feel extremely ashamed.

"It’s doesn't help." - You roll your eyes, but the corners of your lips lift.

"Oh, so you wanted me to make it bad?" - He pretends to be offended, but there's laughter in his eyes. You sigh and mutter without looking at him.

"You're my best friend. We just... God." - You realize the gravity of the situation only now. Jungkook rolls over onto his back, putting one arm under his head.

"We just now fucked, yeah." - He picks up calmly. "And it was hot, you have to admit."

"Shut up!" - You raise yourself up on your elbows and then slap him on the shoulder.

"What? I'm just stating the facts." - He defends himself. You look at him, then groan and fall back on the pillow.

"Jungkook, this is wrong, right? We're friends..." - You say in desperation. He is silent for a few seconds, and then leans into you, hugging you. You stare at his handsome face.

"Honestly? I have no idea what this means for us…" - He admits. "But if you want to forget about it, I won't insist." - You look at him, and suddenly something in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

"What if I don't want to forget?" - You ask quietly.

"Then stay." - Jungkook says quietly and purses his lips. You swallow the lump in your throat and realize you don't want to leave.

You look at him, licking your dry lips, and Jungkook doesn't seem to take his eyes off you for a second.

He's waiting for your answer, but he doesn't push. He just runs his fingertips lightly along your forearm, as if he's testing you, as if he's checking to see if you're real.

"If I stay..." - You start, but your voice is a little shaky, so you pause.

"Then it's the right thing to do." - He prompts, as if reading your mind.

"How can I look you in the eye after all? A soon I’ll be sober…" - You confess. Jungkook smiles and squeezes your hand lightly.

"As usual. Don't to be afraid. It's me. Why would you find it hard to look me in the eye?" - Jungkook asked you. You curl your lips, trying not to let it show that these words make your heart race.

"It's not fair..." - You mutter softly.

"What?" - He leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours.

"That you act like you have everything under control." - You say, closing your eyes. You hear Jungkook smile, and when he doesn't answer, you look at him. And something dangerous appears in his eyes, something not friendly at all.

"What if I've always wanted this to happen?" - He confesses. You open your eyes wide, but he doesn't let you say a word, just bites into your lips, pulling you into a new whirlpool where there is no room for doubt.

His lips are hot, insistent, but not hasty. He took his time, as if he knew you had plenty of time. His tongue barely touches yours, teasing you, forcing you to respond to this kiss as if it were a game you had already lost in advance.

Jungkook smiles as you pull him closer, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"So you don't want to leave after all?" - He asks between kisses, his voice husky, pleased.

"Shut up..." - You whisper, pulling him even closer, like you can't enjoy him enough.

He laughs, but obediently fulfills your request, finding your lips again. His arms wrap confidently around your body, leaving touches that you will feel even after he lets go. If he lets go. Jungkook breaks the kiss, looking at your face.

"How did you end up here at five in the morning anyway?" - He asks. You blink, not immediately realizing what he means.

"We had a fight... at that party... because you left me to go dancing with some girl." - You say quietly.

"I didn't dance with her." - Jungkook denies.

"But I saw her pulling you to dance." - You say what you saw with your own eyes.

"Yes, I went, but I didn't want to dance. We met Taehyung on the dance floor and I handed her over to him." - Jungkook tells what really happened. "I went outside to smoke and saw Jimin there, we were smoking and talking. And then I went to find you and you threw a tantrum." - You look away, realizing how absolutely ridiculous you've been. It was the alcohol. You were sure.

"I was... a little drunk." - You justified your behavior by blaming it on the alcohol. Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

"A little? You were pretty drunk even then." - He says. "I told you to eat something before drinking." - Jungkook complains. You bite your lip, and he laughs, running his fingers down your cheek.

"So I was right, then?" - He leans down to your ear, breathing warm air into it. "Besides, we've made up so well." - You rub your fingers over his shoulders, realizing that you can't deny that he was right.

"We didn't have to make up like that." - You still can't believe that this happened between you. Even though you can feel the phantom presence of Jungkook's cock.

"Come on. I'm glad you came, because now you're mine." - He says this and gently touches your lips, and you feel butterflies in your stomach. He pulls your lips apart and you exhale heavily, trying to gather your thoughts, but Jungkook won't let you. His touch is too light, his gaze too sure.

"I'm not yours." - You mumble stubbornly, though you don't even sound convincing in your own voice. Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his fingers sliding along your stomach, making you shudder.

"No?" - His voice is filled with mockery, mixed with that dangerous desire you've felt so well before. "You really want me to believe that?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, but still lift your chin stubbornly.

"We're friends." - You state, and it was once true. You were friends before tonight's hot sex.

"Friends don't do what we did." - He reminds you, leaning in so that his lips are dangerously close to yours again. "Friends don't come over at five in the morning to get mad over a stupid fight... and they definitely don't stay in bed afterwards."

You gasp for air as he brushes his nose across your cheek, teasing you.

"It was just...the alcohol." - You don't give up. Jungkook humors you.

"Then why are you still here?" - He asks you more rhetorically. He knows the answer and you know the answer. "I'll give you time to think, baby." - He whispers, letting you feel his smile on your skin. "But remember..." - He lingers at your ear, and his voice penetrates every cell in your body. "I'm not backing down. You're already mine. You just have to accept it."

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