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#I lowkey long for those days where I would just
zanyzendraws · 1 year
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NO WAY DEAR EVAN HANSEN RELEASED SIX YEARS AGO
NO WAY I WAS IN EIGHTH GRADE WHEN I LEARNED ABOUT IT
WHAT THE HELL IS THE PASSAGE OF TIME
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hannieehaee · 6 months
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LIKE YOU DO
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18+ / mdi
summary: when your brother's best friend suddenly reveals his newfound crush on you, you find yourself at a crossroads, thinking back to your own unrequited crush on him from back in middle school, making you wonder if you should be the better person and give him a chance.
content: brother'sbestfriend!seungcheol, frienemies-ish to lovers, reader is jeonghan's adoptive sister of his same age, mentions of previous unrequited crush, lots of unserious banter, afab reader, they're both inexperienced, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.
wc: 7.8k
a/n: this one was kinda short sorry T-T i rlly enjoyed the concept though so it was fun to write! hope u guys enjoy!!
masterlist | kofi/patreon
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"Jeonghan?"
"Yeah?"
"Why does Seungcheol keep showing up during my breaks to bring me coffee?"
"Oh. He's trying to break you down so he can ask you out," He responded in the most nonchalant way possible.
"What? Since when does Seungcheol even like me?"
"Are you kidding? he's had a huge crush on you since we were seventeen."
"Dude, what? Where the hell was that attitude back in middle school when I was following him around like a fucking loser?", you grumbled at the memory of your former unrequited crush.
It was pathetic to think about, but it was true. You had sadly had a tendency to follow your brother and his friend around during the majority of your tweens and teens, always carrying the false hope that Seungcheol would one day look your way. As expected, he never even so much as glanced at you during that period of your life.
It's not like you could blame him. You were just a few years behind the rest of the herd when it came to puberty, you were still donning braces and also had a less than favorable sense of style. By all means, you were a bit of a loser up until turning 16. However, it was still sad to know that the guy of your dreams simply saw you as a nuance he had to deal with in exchange for being able to hang out with your brother.
Except that had been well over two years ago (give or take). By the time you were 16 and a junior in high school, you were confidently over your crush. You had stopped following him around by the time you entered the second half of your teens, but your crush would still occasionally show remnants of itself any time he was around (which was often, as he and Jeonghan were practically attached to the hip). However, it was far more lowkey than before and eventually died down altogether. You were long past those awkward years of tweenhood and now had a developed sense of style, along with an air of confidence you now carried with you. Puberty hit you all at once and your entire persona changed along with it. You had an established group of friends and were even a bit popular, no longer needing to hang around Jeonghan and Seungcheol just for a glimpse of the boy's attention. By the time you were 16, you were over Choi Seungcheol.
This carried over to the last two years of high school, now with a completely different dynamic between you and your former crush. Despite attending the same grades at the same time, you did not belong to the same social circles, so you would not see each other too often. However, since your brother (and brother's best friend) continued to attend the same school as you those last two years of high school, you still bumped into Cheol from time to time, specially whenever Jeonghan would bring him over.
Over the years, Seungcheol came to see you as less of a nuance and more of a friend. After turning 16 (upon your glow up and the dissipation of your crush), he would engage in casual conversation with you. He would even seek you out on his own at times, though you were never too enthusiastic about these meetings. Middle school you would've been elated at such development, but you didn't think much of it after having gotten over your crush, now bitter over how it had all played out so fruitlessly for you.
After having gotten over your crush, you came to resent Seungcheol a bit, now realizing the way he used to sometimes take advantage of your crush to get you to be his lackey and how he would even make you the butt of jokes among his friend group (whenever your brother wasn't around, of course). During the years in which you were infatuated with him, you truly believed it was just some sort of inside joke between the two of you; a 'will they, won't they' type of dynamic. However, upon leaving that childish phase of your life, you began to look back at it in embarrassment. After that, you distanced yourself from him. During ages 16 and up, you would even come to avoid him, something which Jeonghan thankfully never commented on despite having also been aware of your former crush.
And now. Now you were being made privy to the fact that Seungcheol had apparently begun to return your crush only a little over a year after you got over yours. At seventeen, Jeonghan said. That's the year you like to believe you truly got your act together. After your glow up at 16 years of age (appearance and personality-wise), you began to engage in new hobbies, new friend groups, and overall went through a full transformation of your former loser self (or at least that's how Seungcheol had made you feel all those years). You had put all relationship related interests aside since your catastrophic crush on Seungcheol left you high and dry. After graduating, you even left the country for a few months, deciding to start college a semester after your brother to explore the world a bit in order to find yourself before starting school back up again.
That period of time proved very useful to you. You mingled in the arts of casual dating in your absence (something which you had never done thanks to your irremovable crush), made friends, took up new interests, and most of all, grew out of any remnants of your former feelings for Seungcheol.
Except that all came crumbling down the moment you came back, suitcase in hand, and found Seungcheol at the door of your brother's apartment upon your arrival for your move-in day with your brother, which now seemed to include Seungcheol in the equation.
You had been less than elated when your brother suddenly informed you that instead of solely moving in with him in order to begin attending his university, you would now be sharing the apartment with an unwanted guest – Seungcheol. This had been the first time you saw him again after graduating, which had also been your last day to see anyone for the past six months over the duration of your trip.
Since your brother had begun attending school while you took a sabbatical from education, he had found himself an apartment so you would have a place to move into upon your return. The agreement had been for the two of you to be the sole habitants, until Seungcheol suddenly decided to attend the same university as you and your brother, promptly moving in with Jeonghan in your absence. It seemed like that had been the original plan, one which died when Seungcheol simply decided to stay, moving his things out what was supposed to be your room and moving them into what then became a shared room between him and Jeonghan.
This was when you first began to have suspicions about Seungcheol.
Although your crush had died down about two years back, you still felt awkward in his presence. His existence was a constant reminder of his consistent rejection of your feelings, something which had not helped your confidence much in the past. But it now seemed like Seungcheol had been the one seeking you out more than the other way around. Even back when you were saying your goodbyes before leaving on your vacation, Seungcheol had seemed even more disappointed at your prolonged absence than your own brother. You hadn't thought much of it at the time, except that this behavior kept up as the two of you became roommates.
Seungcheol would now walk you to class whenever possible, even when it meant going out of his way. He would lend you notes from the classes he had taken the prior semester; ones which you were currently having to take. He would show up between your classes with either drink or food in hand. He'd stop by your workplace at the school's cafe whenever he had down time. He'd stare down any guy that would try and interact with you in any of these instances. You were completely casual about it, trying to not read too much into it, but the worst thing about it all was that you liked it. You liked the attention he was finally giving you.
Though you were suspicious about Seungcheol's intentions, you had never considered the possibility of Seungcheol actually liking you romantically until your brother had so casually informed you just now. Even through your immediate complaint about it, your heart sped up at the thought. Your mind went back to every single memory of your own crush on him, thinking back to every single thing you used to like about him. Up until the moment in which Jeonghan called your attention once more, having answered your question but receiving no response from you due to the extended internal monologue you had gone through due to the sudden revelation.
"Sorry, what did you say?", you finally responded.
He chuckled at your absent-mindedness, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. "I said that your crush was just puppy love. He can't help that he didn't return your feelings at the time. It's been like what, three years since you got over him? Are you really still mad about it?", replied Jeonghan as he nudged you to eat the muffin he had bought you over twenty minutes ago.
Puppy love? It sure didn't feel like it during all those years in which you pined over him. But maybe Jeonghan was right. Maybe it had simply been interpreted as a harmless crush by both Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Except this did not justify every single remembrance of Seungcheol's constant dismissal and mockery of your feelings through the years, only ever looking your way once you were finally over him.
You took a deep breath, deciding to try and be rational in your response, "He mocked me over my crush for years, Jeonghan. He made me the butt of every joke and took advantage of how into him I was for his own entertainment. He only ever started respecting me when I changed my appearance and personality completely. Why should I even consider giving him a chance?"
"Hey, I'm not telling you to do that. Just keep an open mind, okay? We were kids. I'm sure he meant it all in good fun. You know he can be kind of an idiot at times," he took a pinch of the untouched muffin in front of you, "Is there no part of you that maybe still likes him?"
"Did you come to my workplace to harass me into dating your best friend?", you snatched the muffin away – the muffin he had 'bought' despite getting a discount due to your position as a barista, "I'm not the same loser I was in middle school, I have options."
"Oh, yeah?", he smirked, "Then how come you've never had a boyfriend?"
"I'm only 19, it's not like I've dedicated my entire life to celibacy. If I wanted one I could get one. Easy," you argued, "Are you gonna leave any time soon? I need to get back to work," you began to gather his and your cup to head back to your work duties.
"There's literally no one here," he whined, "And stop dodging my questions. Do you like him? Do you want a relationship or not?", he pushed, "I'm your brother, you're supposed to trust me with this type of stuff."
"Adoptive brother," you corrected as you wiped the table Jeonghan was still sitting at.
"Don't say that. I hate it when you say that," he whined.
"You know what? You're right," you decided, halting your movements.
"I am?"
"Yeah. I should get a boyfriend."
"Oh. You mean someone who isn't Seungcheol, don't you?", he sighed.
"Of course. I'm not just gonna come crawling back to him just because he decided he likes me now. And you're right. Now that I'm over my crush and I'm back home, I should get a boyfriend. Maybe that'll get Cheol off of me," you declared.
"So it is about Cheol then."
"Jeonghan, shut up!"
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Things changed for you after that conversation. Or at least the way you looked at Seungcheol shifted.
While you had questioned why he would suddenly begin showing up as frequently as he did, showing genuine interest in your company, you had not once entertained the thought of him liking you. Jeonghan informing you of his crush in such a nonchalant way also made you realize that Seungcheol had been quite obvious about his sudden liking to you, always becoming standoffish when other guys were around and even carrying your backpack for you.
The thought of him liking you pleased you. Even if you wanted to be in denial about it, your crush finally being reciprocated was something you had given hope on back when you were about 15. However, knowing that Seungcheol only started seeing you in a non platonic way after your feelings had finally dissipated also annoyed you beyond belief. How was it fair? He got to tease you and treat you as if you were nothing but a nuance for years, only to turn around a few years later and decide he wanted you? You weren't about to stand for it.
You meant it when you told Jeonghan that you would consider entering the dating scene.
For years, you hoped Seungcheol would eventually like you back, so you never even as much as looked in anyone else's way. When you got over your crush, your pride was too wounded to even think about romance. The only exception had been during your trip overseas, where you dated boys here and there, but it was never anything that lasted over a few weeks. Now was finally the time to begin dating.
Okay, granted. Maybe part of you was doing this just to give Seungcheol a taste of his own medicine, but that part didn't matter too much. You decided you'd just disregard his crush just like he did yours; drinking in all the extra attention but never doing anything about it
~
"Hey, wait up!"
You slowed down without looking back, able to recognize that voice even in your sleep.
"Forget about me? I always walk you to your next class," he chuckled, breathless, "Uh, here. Got you your favorite," he said as he handed you a beverage of your choice.
"Thanks, Cheol," you replied, disinterested as usual.
Even before knowing about his intentions, you had kept a very clear emotional distance from Seungcheol for the past couple of years. You were sure he was aware that your crush had died down years ago, now leaving you completely indifferent towards him, but he never once brought it up. The most reaction you could gauge out of him was the way he deflated a bit every time you spoke to him and failed to show the same enthusiasm you once did.
"So, any plans this weekend?"
"Oh, yeah. Going on a date," you said nonchalantly.
This made him stop in his tracks, causing you to have to slow down your walking once again to turn back and look at him in feigned interest.
"A date? W-what, with who?", he spluttered, a frown making its way on his face.
"Just some guy I met on tinder," you responded, "C'mon, I need to get to class," you nudged him.
He took your instruction to keep walking, still frowning, "A guy from tinder? You don't even know him? I- Is your brother okay with this?"
"It's not really any of his business, now, is it?", you scoffed.
"Since when are you even dating anyway? I thought you needed time to 'find yourself'. Isn't that the whole reason you were gone for half a year?", grumbled Seungcheol.
"Not like it's any of your business, but yeah, I am dating. I'm 19, it's not like I've never dated. I went on dates while I was traveling. It's not that big of a deal."
"You dated? What? And you never told me?"
This made you stop in your tracks, turning to him and making him halt too.
"'Tell you'? Why would you need to know anything about my dating life? We're not even friends."
"Oh, so now we're not friends? I've known you literally since the day Jeonghan's parents brought you home and now we're not friends?", he was beginning to get agitated, you could tell.
Pushing his buttons was fun at first, but now you were also starting to feel frustration at his entitlement over you.
"As far as I can remember, we've never been friends. You just liked the attention I gave you and made a joke of me for years. Is that friendship to you?"
"We- we shouldn't talk about this here, okay?" he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you, but saw that only a few other students were walking by, completely unsuspecting.
"You know what, Cheol? Thanks for the drink. I can get to class alone. I'll see you at home," you snatched your bag from his arms and marched away, leaving a confused Seungcheol behind.
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"Cheol told me you guys got into a fight," was the first thing Jeonghan said as he walked into your workplace at 7:30 sharp in the morning.
"God, it's bad enough I have to live with the two of you, do you need to gossip about me too?"
"I told you about his crush in confidence! I can't believe you'd betray my trust like this," he said with zero emotion behind his words.
"No you didn't."
"No I didn't", he giggled, "Give me my usual, yeah?", he took a seat on the counter right in front of you, grabbing a nearby muffin to accompany the drink you were now making him.
"So you're really dating now?", he inquired after less than five seconds of silence.
"How much did Seungcheol tell you?"
"He gave me a rundown of the entire conversation."
You groaned at this. Men were truly the nosier gender.
"Yes, I'm going on a date with some guy from one of my classes tomorrow."
"I thought you said he was from tinder?"
"I just assumed it'd annoy Cheol even more if he thought I was choosing some random guy over him."
"That's mean", he pouted, followed by a grin, "Good job."
You handed him his drink and took a moment to sit down from your side of the counter, sighing dramatically at your brother.
"Are you really not interested in Cheol at all?", he rubbed at your arm to show comfort.
"I ... Maybe? I liked him for so long. It's hard for that to just go away, specially knowing he likes me back. But I can't just let him win me over so easily, you know?"
"Maybe you should talk to him? Let him explain his thought process and see if it's worth giving him a chance."
"Maybe," you sighed.
"Not 'maybe.' You're talking to him. Spending a single night with the two of you while you were icing each other out was enough for me. I told him I'd stay somewhere else tomorrow night so the two of you can talk after your date. It's a done deal."
"Dude! Can you stop making decisions for me? I-"
"I'm your older brother. It's in the fine print," he argued.
"Adoptiv-"
He grabbed the muffin and put it to your lips, interrupting your sentence, "That's enough of that."
You opted to just let him win (yet again) and mentally prepare yourself for your conversation with Seungcheol the following day.
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Joshua.
That was the name of the guy you'd be going on a date with this afternoon.
He was cute, polite, smart, and seemed to be an overall great guy based on the few interactions you'd had with him during class. He was actually who you used to walk to class with before Seungcheol had intercepted your routine by forcing his way into your schedule.
You weren't particularly excited about going on this date. Joshua was the perfect guy by all means, but you didn't feel any type of spark when you were with him. You were pretty sure he didn't either. It was hard to tell. Nothing really compared to the way you felt for Seungcheol during the majority of your teens. You doubted you'd ever crush on someone so hard ever again.
You had never admitted it out loud, but you were pretty sure your crush on Seungcheol had at some point become love. You didn't just like Seungcheol, you (had) loved him, which made getting over your infatuation even harder. It had also made that unbecoming feeling of rejection much harder to let go of. The reminder of the constant rejection you had gone through was enough to not even entertain the idea of looking at Seungcheol with the same enamored eyes you always reserved for him ever again.
And so now you were getting ready for your date. Whether anything came of it didn't matter too much to you. You needed to show both Seungcheol and your brother that you were truly over Seungcheol. That you wouldn't fall for him when it was finally convenient for him.
~
The date was overall nice.
The two of you had opted for something casual, deciding to an arcade and have a casual meal that consisted of nachos and some convenience store ramen afterwards.
The date felt like an outing you'd have with any other friend. Maybe because that's what it actually was in the end.
It didn't take too much time into your date for both you and Joshua to say what you were thinking – You were better off as friends. You both chuckled at it, finding it comedic how you had both had the same thought, meaning there would be no hard feelings at the end of the day.
The night was spent playing games and bantering with one another. It was a casual and quite relaxing outing between two friends. Which is what left Joshua to inquire as to why you had asked him out in the first place as he walked you back to your apartment.
"There's, uh, this guy I'm trying to get over," you decided to be honest with him. You could really see a friendship forming here, plus he seemed like a trustworthy guy, so lying would be fruitless.
"Ah. Makes sense", he clicked his tongue, "Is it Choi Seungcheol by any chance?"
That caught you off guard. And it must've shown in your face, as Joshua chuckled in return before continuing.
"I've just noticed the two of you together a lot lately, that's all. What's the story?"
If only Joshua had known about the length of the story you were about to tell him, he likely would not have asked, but the simple question was enough to fire you up and let him in on every excruciating detail.
By the end of it, Joshua's face had gone through every reaction. From surprised, to angry (likely in empathy), to apprehensive.
"Well, he sounds like he was a dick in high school-"
"Right!"
"But ...."
"'But'?!"
"Listen. You were what, 15? Guys are so dumb at that age. I did my fair share of dumb things. And having a pretty girl be so into you at that age would give any guy a huge ego. Maybe he's being honest about his feelings," he had reasoned.
"Why is everyone on his side? What, am I supposed to just forgive him?"
"Of course not. But maybe part of you still likes him. You shouldn't let your pride get in the way of finally being with the guy you like."
That last statement had left you thinking.
You already had doubts about your feelings for Cheol, knowing that your conflict towards his newfound feelings was enough indication to realize that you might've still been holding a torch for him.
But it was his comment about pride that really had you reconsidering things.
Was it really just your pride stopping you from even giving Seungcheol a chance?
The way that you saw it, if you gave in to Seungcheol now that he finally liked you back, it only proved how weak you were for him, how easy it was for him to just snap his fingers and have you at his feet once again.
But you also needed to consider the fact that he had liked you since seventeen. You were both nineteen now, going on twenty. He had held back on his feelings for two years, hoping that you'd someday reciprocate once more. Clearly he wasn't hoping to use your old crush against you, or else he would've done so already.
These conflicting thoughts plagued your mind all the way until Joshua hugged you goodbye at your apartment door, while you were unaware of Seungcheol watching the two of you with a frown from the small window behind you, completely misreading the situation.
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"Joshua Hong? That's the guy you're dating?", were the first words he said to you when you walked in, fully washed with venom and disdain.
This was starting off well.
"Were you spying on me?"
"You didn't answer my question," he rebutted.
You walked past him and let yourself fall back on the couch, sighing at the conversation you knew was awaiting.
"Cheol. Stop beating around the bush by snooping into my life," you started, the beating of your heart betraying the confidence in your voice, "Jeonghan told me you wanted to talk, so talk."
"Is there even a point? If you're already taken, do I even have a chance?", he chuckled bitterly, taking a seat across from you on a lone loveseat.
Oh.
This was the first time Seungcheol had ever acknowledged his romantic feelings towards you in the two years in which he's supposedly had them. It made you feel weak to admit it, but that statement alone already had your resolve melting.
"I- I'm not taken. Joshua and I are just friends."
"You came back home together at 10. You're wearing a skirt. I saw the two of you hug outside. Am I missing something?", he scoffed.
"Dude, I- What? Those are all completely platonic things. Not like you have any right to complain anyways .." you trailed off.
"Okay, if it's not a date then why did you tell me it was one on Wednesday? Huh?"
"Because I wanted you to know what it felt like!", you blurted, abruptly getting up from the couch.
"What? You-"
"It's not fair, Seungcheol! I liked you. For years. And you never looked my way. You made fun of me, you used me, you ignored me. I was just some dumbass who couldn't take a hint, and now you like me? Now you wanna know who I'm dating and who I like? Hah," you were halfway through your rambles before you realized it.
He got up from his spot and walked over to you, solemn and hurt look on his face. He seemed embarrassed by your statement, though also accepting of it.
"You- you're right. I never took you seriously. I ... I always just saw you as Jeonghan's weird little sister, I-"
"We're the same age!"
"Okay, but Jeonghan was always so protective towards you, I always thought of you as a little kid. I'm sorry, I know how harsh and unfair that sounds, but I don't want to lie to you. I don't know what changed, or when it did, but I- at some point I just couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathed out.
"Hah," you chuckled bitterly, "Was this when I changed my look, Cheol? Are you that shallow?"
"N-no! Listen, I know the timing was bad, but it wasn't that. I always thought you were pretty. I know you probably didn't see it for yourself, and ... I know my teasing probably didn't help your confidence, – and that's something I regret so badly – but you've always been beautiful. It had nothing to do with that, I swear," he held his hand to his chest as if to swear by his words.
You couldn't help blushing at his words, avoiding eye contact for a moment before responding.
"Then what was it?"
"I guess I just missed you", he shrugged sadly, "I got so used to having you around and to knowing how much I meant to you. I took you for granted, and I regretted it the moment I lost you," it was his turn to feel embarrassed, "When you stopped seeking me out, I finally began to see what you were like past your crush. You were so fun and carefree. So nice and, and beautiful. You saw me in rose-colored glasses and I just didn't see you at all. Not until then," he finished.
"What does this all mean, Cheol?" you said, almost exasperated, "Am I supposed to forget the way you'd mock me or just straight up ignore me for years? Yeah, sure, we were kind of beginning to become friends once high school was almost over, but it didn't mean anything to me by that point. I was just over it."
"And are you over me?"
"What?"
He lifted his eyebrow in question, taking a few steps towards you.
"Are you really completely over me? Do you feel nothing at all?", his eyes were confidently following your gaze as he questioned you.
"I- Yes, I am," you gulped unwillingly, taking a few steps back as he took some forward.
"I don't believe that. I mean, you left only for a few months and I never stopped thinking about you ... There's no way you got over me that suddenly, is there?"
"You think too highly of yourself, Cheol-"
"So you feel nothing at all?", he had made his way into your personal space by now, almost crowding you against the wall, "Aren't you curious, at least? Don't you wanna see if there's anything left?", he breathed out.
"I, Cheol, I-"
"Just tell me no. Push me away. Tell me to fuck off and I'll leave you alone," his gaze fell to your lips, slowly making its way back to your eyes again.
"I can't, I ... Cheol ..."
Due to your lack of rejection, Seungcheol closed the gap, gently pressing his lips against you as he let out a breath of relief in his kiss.
You'd kissed a few boys during your time away. Hell, you'd even kissed Joshua earlier today, but neither of those experiences had felt quite like this. During all those exchanges, Seungcheol had always somehow been in the back of your mind, making you wonder what it would've been like if he had been the guy you were kissing instead. Now you finally knew what it was like ... And you were already growing addicted.
It was only a few seconds into the kiss when the two of you let your desire for the other take over. He groaned against your lips as you ran your hands through his hair, pulling his face as close to your own as possible. His hands ran down to your waist and caressed your back in a way far too desperate for the first kiss shared between the two of you.
With no words, he kissed you until running out of breath, eventually lowering his head so he could attack your neck with licks and nips to the sensitive skin on there. You leaned your head to the side, allowing him more room to suck into as he rejoiced in your sighs of pleasure.
It was a mutual exchange. The two of you seemed to be equally desperate for the other, your wandering hands never halting in the exploration of the other's body. His hands eventually dared to venture under your top, slowly sneaking their way towards your breasts. He kissed your lips once more as his hands caressed and played with your tits, moaning against your mouth every time you'd whine at his touches.
"Angel ...", he breathed against your lips, "Are you still sure? Are you still sure you don't want me?", his words were slightly muffled by his inability to disconnect from you for more than a second.
"I need- fuck, Cheol ... Just-"
"I know ... It's okay. You don't have to say it," he pushed his tongue into your mouth once again.
Cheol separated from you and led you to your room by your hand, closing the door before pressing you up against it and kissing you again.
The way he kissed you was nothing but sensual and full of emotion, making you forget any complaint you had against him as his lips connected to yours again and again.
His hands took advantage of your caged in position, feeling up every curve and squeezing at his favorite parts. There was a depraved urgency behind his movements, almost as if he had been aching to do this; burning to finally have you to his full disposition. When he seemingly had his fill of caressing every inch, he pulled away barely enough to speak (which had been a feat, as your lips desperately followed his, and his own were unable to resist yours at first).
"Let me take you to bed," be begged, "I've wanted you for years. Please, let me have you," he plead against your lips, giving you a languid peck as he finished his request.
"Cheol ..."
He pulled away a bit more at the hesitancy in your voice, "I know I was an asshole. I know I hurt you for years. I know I don't deserve you," he took a deep breath before intensely looking into your eyes, "but I can't stop thinking about you. If you ever felt even an ounce of what I've felt towards you since we were seventeen, then I'm so sorry to have caused you such pain. I was a stupid teenager who felt too cool to look your way long enough to realize you were far too good for me. Please. Please, I'll beg if you want me to , just ... Give me a chance," he finished with a pained expression in his eyes, voice wavering by the end of his speech.
"You made me feel like such an idiot, like-"
"I'm the idiot – Me! You're perfect," he grabbed onto your hands and brought them up to his lips, "I love you. So much. Jeonghan's so fed up of hearing me tell him how in love with you I am. All my friends know how I feel about you. I'll embarrass myself time and time again proving it to you," dropping your hands, he wrapped his arms around you again, bringing you closer to him as his eyes dropped to your lips.
That had been a shock.
You had never expected for Seungcheol's feelings to be anything more than superficial, much less did you expect for him to confess to you in such a way. The thought of him gushing about you to his friends was enough to make you blush, but knowing that he was willing to prove his feelings for you as much as you saw fit made you weak at the knees. This was all you had ever wanted, tenfold. If your current reaction to his revelation was anything to go by, then you were now realizing that your feelings for him had never truly gone away. You had carried a torch for Seungcheol all these years, even when you thought you had completely gotten over him. Even when you weren't thinking of him, he was always plaguing your mind.
And so you kissed him.
You put all previous hesitancy aside and followed your desires, pulling him to you as you let passion take over.
He didn't question you, choosing to press you up against him instead, blindly walking the two of you towards your bed and laying you down in it, crawling on top of you once more to keep kissing you.
No words were exchanged for a while, the only sounds filling up the room were made up of your collective moans and the ruffling of the bedsheets – result of the way you were feeling each other up. You were glad Jeonghan had decided to stay elsewhere tonight. Hell, he probably knew the two of you would snap and end up in the way you evidently did.
Pulling away for a quick moment, Seungcheol pulled away and threw off his shirt, causing the cloudiness in your mind to clear up for a moment so you could lean up and run your hands through his bare chest, earning a chuckle from him.
"Like what you see?", he smirked like the cockiest shit you'd ever seen, except it kinda worked on you regardless.
But you couldn't let him have the upper hand here, so you did what any sensible girl would do and threw off your own top, leaving you in a pretty lacy bralette.
The smirk wiped off his face immediately as his eyes lowered to your breasts. To make matters worse for him, you decided to sensually pull off your bra, making a little show out of it just to see how much lust would overtake him at the sight.
"Fuck ...", he muttered, leaning down so he could get his hands on you.
You stopped him before he could, however. Smirking at him, "You have to ask, Cheollie."
"Angel ... Don't play this with me."
"Ask, or else you can't touch me."
"I- Fuck. Please. Can I touch them?," he breathed out, eyes still glued to your chest as you played with your own mounds just to mock him.
You nodded, taking his arms and leading them to your chest.
He took full advantage of this, feeling you up like a starved man devouring his last meal. His mouth joined in on the fun soon after, kissing and licking at your nipples, groaning whenever your hands would pull at his hair.
He undressed the rest of you during the following minutes, making quick work of your shoes, his own, and your skirt. His pants were the last to go, leaving the two of you in just your underwear.
"Help me take it off?", he led your hands to his hardened cock, hooking your fingers on his boxers so you could get them off for him. You pulled his face down to your own and sucked on his tongue as your other hand aided him in removing his boxers. He did the same to your panties, finally crawling on top of you again, with your bare crotches finally facing one another.
"Fuck, I want you so bad," he breathed against your lips, beginning a slow grind against your cunt.
You ground against each other like animals in heat for a while, losing your breaths with the other's lips. The way his hardened length graced your folds with the perfect friction had you getting wetter by the second, making you wail against his lips.
"Can I eat you out, baby?," he groaned into your mouth, a desperate look in his eyes.
"Y-yes, fuck," you cried.
He kissed at your nude body on his way down, licking and sucking splotches of red and purple wherever he could until reaching your thighs, using his strong arms to open them and wedge himself between them.
"God ... Been dreaming of kissing up these thighs for years. You're so fucking gorgeous, do you even know?", he sounded pained as he said so, pressing soft kisses at the softest part of your thighs, "Dreamt about you since were seventeen," he blew cold air into your cunt, causing you to retract a bit.
"Cheol ..."
"Is this how you felt? Huh? Did you want me just as badly as I did you?", he finally gave you an experimental lick, groaning at the taste, "But you never got over me, did you? That's good," he nodded to himself, licking more and more, "That way I get to keep you," and that was all he could say before his mouth became fully occupied by your cunt.
And he was right. Even as your crush died down, you got older and began to have thoughts about him. Thoughts that accompanied you on the many lonely nights while you were abroad and away from him. During all those nights in which you swore you were over him. It was nice to know that you'd had a similar effect on him these past few years.
You didn't have much time to ponder about it as Seungcheol quite literally lost himself between your legs. His arms proved to be as strong as they looked, forcing your legs open even as the stimulation made you try and close them around his head. His groans of pleasure against your weeping cunt did not help matters, simply leading you to your end all the faster.
"Fucking delicious, fuck. No one's ever had this before, right, beautiful? You've been saving this cunt for me? Hmm?", he slurred his words while he made out with your pussy, groaning once more when you whimpered in confirmation, "Need to taste you, angel. Cum for me, fuck. Wanna be the first one to feel you like this," he rambled, delirious on your taste.
And you were equally as delirious, falling apart for him almost as if your body had been following his direction. He continued to make sinful sounds against your cunt as he tasted you all through your high, making you even more lightheaded than you already were.
Giving you no time to recover, Seungcheol climbed atop you once more and made you swallow any words you may have had by sealing your lips with his own, forcing your the remnants on your taste onto your own tongue. You battled each other like this once more, hands careless as they grabbed at one another in desperation.
"C-condom?", be pulled away to ask.
"No, Cheol. I- You don't carry?", you managed to let out.
"I, No. I- I've never ..."
He looked uncharacteristically bashful, making you tilt your head in curiosity. Until it hit you.
"You're a virgin?"
He pulled away at this, sitting up a bit on the bed and creating a small distance between the two of you.
"It's not- I've done stuff before, just not ... this. I, uh, I was waiting for you," he confessed, forcing his eyes away from your gaze.
This broke your heart, but in a good way.
If you had any remnants of doubt in your mind about his sincerity about his crush, they were gone now. He had waited. For you. He wanted you to be his first, so he waited for you to come back. He waited for you to like him again. In the same way you had never seriously dated anyone before, he waited.
"Cheol ..."
He must've misinterpreted your tone, as he continued to refuse eye contact with you, seemingly embarrassed at being a virgin for some reason.
So you took matters into your hands, grabbing onto him with a confident hand and pulling him into you once more. With some unexpected strength, you managed to switch positions with him, now straddling him as his back laid against your mattress.
Before he could question you, you kissed him again, this time with a passion you knew you could only reserve for Seungcheol. He kissed you back with equal want, making you feel like you'd reached a stage of nirvana no one had ever before. Every emotion behind the kiss was far too intense to even describe.
The rest of the exchange was almost wordless, with a few silences being filled by praise for one another. You finally sat yourself down on him, condomless, but not regretful at all for your decision. If you were to ever let anyone impale you without filter, it'd be him.
The bruises he left on your hips were accepted with delight. It was only fair, seeing as your nails also left marks on his chest. The two of you left your mark on the other; a silent way of letting the other know who they belonged to.
You bounced and ground on top of him, almost wailing at the way in which his hands guided your movements in such a desperate way. At some point you began shamelessly humping against each other, filling the space with depraved sounds of pleasure.
Cheol looked down to the spot connecting you, groaning upon seeing the wetness seeping from your cunt, but decidedly bringing a hand towards your mound in order to toy with your clit. The arch of your back and extra tightness of your cunt were enough for his orgasm to approach more rapidly than planned.
"With me," he rasped, "Cum with me ... Need your first time to be with me. Just like this."
You barely registered his words. Your eyes were already rolled back, and your back arched almost to the point of breaking. Your toes completely curled and your nails digging into his reddened chest. But you understood, and your body acted accordingly, bringing you into orgasm as he softly counted you down, leading to an almost perfectly synchronized high.
A few moments of comfortable silence (sans the heavy breathing) went by before Seungcheol carefully pulled out of you with a low groan and did his best at cleaning you up with some kleenex near your bed. He gave you a soft peck after he was done, settling the two of you under the covers and held you in his arms.
"Always wanted this part too."
"Hmm?"
"To hold you like this", he clarified, smiling down at you.
Blushing involuntarily, you agreed, cuddling further into his warm chest, leading him to softly run his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner.
"I meant everything I said. I'll always regret treating you the way I did. There's no reason why you should, but I hope you'll forgive me," he sounded pained at his own words, likely feeling genuine hatred for the way in which he behaved during your early teenage years.
You pulled away from his chest, creating a small distance between you so you could look into his eyes properly.
"Seungcheol, I ... I love you," you started, "And I forgive you. I was wrong to judge you so harshly for not liking me the way I wanted you to back then. I'm sorry for letting my pride get in the way. I shouldn't have iced you out after I got over you. It was the only way at the time to protect myself from the rejection and-"
"Stop," he went to hold your cheeks in his hands, "You have nothing to apologize for. You forgiving me is all I wanted, and ... and knowing you feel the same is more than I was ever expecting. We'll move past all that, okay?"
"Okay," you nodded sweetly.
"Now ... Is it too soon to ask you to be official?"
"You waited until after popping my cherry to ask me out?", you laughed.
"In my defense ..."
"You have none!"
"Okay, whatever! Just say yes so Jeonghan doesn't continue to suffer through my rants about how much I like his sister," he pulled you into his arms again, returning your laughter.
"Fine! Yes! We're official," you feigned annoyance, but were unable to not mimic his own smile.
It had taken far too long, but you finally had the upper hand. He liked you. He asked you out. He was yours. The wait had been worth it.
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To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!
content: smut, penetrative sex, deprived cheol, banter with jeonghan, etc.
wc: 989 (teaser); 2009 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Okay, I need the two of you to get the hell out of my apartment."
That had been the way in which Jeonghan welcomed the two of you upon walking in on you and Seungcheol calmly watching a movie together in your shared living room.
It had now been three months since you and Seungcheol began officially dating. Since you were roommates, this also meant that you were now living with your boyfriend. Despite the fact that Cheol and your brother shared a room together (leaving you with a room of your own), Seungcheol still had the tendency of spending a few nights per week sleeping over at your room.
So far, the dynamic between the three of you hadn't changed too much. The biggest difference was that now you and Seungcheol finally developed more of a friendship than you had during the period of time between high school and college in which you had begun to ice him out in order to protect your own feelings. That, however, died down as soon as you moved in, eventually leading to your current romantic relationship with each other.
Jeonghan had been happy for you, having known that if he forced the two of you (and subsequently left you two alone in the apartment) to talk, you'd inevitably end up confessing your feelings and finally getting together. He had seen it coming since middle school, he had said. It only took about six years for his matchmaking to come into fruition, but it led to some pretty interesting slowburn – his words, not yours.
In these past three months, however, some awkward moments had arisen.
Being your brother, Jeonghan always found it uncomfortable whenever he happened to be around when you and Seungcheol would do couple activities. Seeing you hang out was fine, obviously, but a few weird instances had already left him traumatized.
So far, he had walked in on you making out a total of five times, feeling each other up over your clothes two times, Seungcheol making eyes at you seven times, had come across your discarded underwear three times, and had even walked in on you having sex once. At some point a line had to be drawn, and apparently he had chosen that to he now.
"Dude, you're the one who wanted us to get together," you argued.
"I wanted the mutual pining to stop, not to almost walk in on my sister getting railed every other day. Leave!," he said, though he simply sat down on the couch, forcibly creating a wedge between you and Cheol.
"Let's just go to your room, babe," Seungcheol got up, taking your hand while giving Jeonghan a dirty look, "Nuance," he grumbled.
"You're the nuance," responded Jeonghan, though already immersed with the popcorn and TV he had stolen from you.
Seungcheol led you to your room, closing the door behind you and instantly turning to you.
"Hi, baby," he whispered, holding you close to him.
"Hi," you giggled at him.
He leaned down to kiss you, his hands on the small of your back and pressing you up against him. His lips were basically on yours before Jeonghan's sudden voice made the two of you jump back in surprise.
"Don't have sex! I swear to God, if I hear the two of you having sex one more time, I'm evicting you! Just sleep like normal people!," he had yelled from the living room.
He had a bit of a point. The walls were relatively thin here, and you weren't exactly quiet when you had sex.
Seungcheol groaned and buried his face in your neck, "Baby, will you still love me if I kill your brother?"
"I'll love you even more," you pouted.
He snickered, removing his head from your neck and giving you a singular peck on your lips, "C'mon, let's go to sleep."
~
The two of you had initially thought that Jeonghan's complaint about you having sex had been a fluke. You believed that maybe he was stressed that day and that he hadn't meant what he said when he stated that he did not want the two of you to sleep together anymore. However, his words proved to be more literal throughout the following week.
Any time the two of you were so much as together, Jeonghan would groan and complain, saying that if he caught the two of you doing anything less than PG, he would cause 'any trouble possible to stop it' (his own words). It was beginning to frustrate you, but your frustration could not compare to that of Seungcheol's.
"I'm going to kill him. I'm really doing it this time," he said decidedly, hearing Jeonghan's incessant attempts to interrupt whatever was going on behind your closed door.
"Babe-"
"I just want to have sex with you! It's been over a week since I've had you, I'm going insane", he pulled at his scalp.
"Yeah, I know, but he just-"
"Babe, I don't think you understand. I'm hard every day. Even seeing you gets me going by now. I can't do this anymore! Any time I try to touch you, he's there somehow!"
The manic look in his eyes spoke for itself. And it was true. Seungcheol's constant blue balling this past week and a half had him growing aroused at the mere sight of you in shorts. It was flattering, but it was beginning to affect you too. Knowing how badly he wanted you made you weak at the knees, causing the two of you to grow incredibly frustrated at your brother's antics.
You realized now that maybe you shouldn't have been so liberal in sleeping together while living with your brother. You should have known he would snap sooner or later, no matter how much he had rooted for the two of you to get together.
You wondered how this would end up playing out, because the two of you were already beyond breaking.
...
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textmel8r · 4 months
Text
[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity
୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo
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You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”
You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try. 
The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”
“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”
You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”
Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”
“Some would call me experienced, yes.”
His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”
“Say what again?”
“Steak au whatever.”
You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”
Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”
“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”
“Any more French, you mean?”
He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak. 
“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. 
Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”
“No way,” you chortle.
“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”
The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail. 
“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”
He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”
“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.
“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”
You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”
“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.
“Toji, honey, are you alright?”
What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?
“Can we fuck now?”
“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”
Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t wanna talk about work.”
“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”
He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in. 
A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.
Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance. 
God, you won't even look at him.
Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”
You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.
“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”
It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.
This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips. 
At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him. 
“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.
You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.
He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.
“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I trust you, too, Toji.” 
He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around. 
Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.
He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.
Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” 
The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.
“No marks, I’ve got work.”
His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now. 
“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.
“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other. 
“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle. 
“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”
And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”
You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”
His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”
Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline. 
“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”
You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”
You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”
“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”
He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.
Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.
Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.
“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”
Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.
It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.
Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.
Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”
He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.
“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”
He’s good.
“You’re so good.”
“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.
Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”
“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.
The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.
Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.
He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.
“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”
“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.
“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.
Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.
His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.
“You alright?”
A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.
“Answer me, please.”
Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.
“You’re filthy.”
He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”
You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”
You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”
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cursingtoji · 10 months
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?
— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji
gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)
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“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.
the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.
“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.
“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”
“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.
“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.
“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”
“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”
gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.
“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”
gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.
“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“
“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“
“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.
“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.
“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.
he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.
“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”
“that’s rude, toji is—“
“did you think you could change him or something?”
“i— no, why—“
“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.
“gojo, i swear—“
“was it the sex?”
you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.
“jackpot” satoru whispers.
“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.
“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.
“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”
“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.
“you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.
gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.
“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”
“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.
“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”
“no!”
“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.
“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.
“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.
“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.
“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.
“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.
“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.
“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”
“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.
“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.
“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”
“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.
“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.
“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.
satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.
“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.
“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.
“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.
“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.
“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”
satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.
he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.
he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—
“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.
“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”
“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.
which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.
when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.
“desk, now” you demand needly.
“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.
you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.
you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.
“ask me” he pleads.
“for what?”
“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.
“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.
gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.
the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.
“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.
“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.
“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.
“unbelievable…”
“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.
“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.
he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.
his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.
“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.
the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.
or was it something else you feared?
“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.
“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”
“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.
“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.
“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.
“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.
“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.
“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.
“you’re not… on anything?”
“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”
“go on” gojo massages your thigh.
“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.
satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.
“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.
all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.
the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.
“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.
he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.
“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.
he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.
“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.
you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.
“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.
you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.
“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.
he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.
god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
if only…
“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.
after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”
“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.
“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.
you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”
“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.
gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.
a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.
gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.
“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.
gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.
“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.
on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.
“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”
“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.
“about… us? of course not.”
“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.
“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”
“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”
“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.
“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”
“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.
“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.
before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.
satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.
he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.
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satoruxx · 7 months
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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words
SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing
RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33
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i. the unknown
satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  
his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 
you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 
"who's the rookie?" 
satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 
it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 
he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 
"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.
satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 
suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 
the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 
suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 
"maybe she's strong?" 
"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 
ii. routine 
"can i ask you guys a question?" 
a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 
"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 
"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 
"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 
satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 
"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.
"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 
you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 
the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  
"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 
after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.
"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 
"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 
"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."
the conversation ends there. 
shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.
shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 
a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 
but you can't. 
iii. halcyon
"hey suguru?"
"hm?"
"how come you always do your hair the same way?"
suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.
"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.
"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."
"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.
"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"
he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."
you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"
he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.
"how should i style it then, hotshot?"
his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."
he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.
"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"
suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"
you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."
he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.
"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.
"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.
"i like yours."
you blink. "mine?"
"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."
something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.
"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."
"do mine like that," he says quickly.
once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"
"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.
"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.
"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."
"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.
iv. fragility
"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 
"—so that makes you her family then." 
suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 
"…yes." 
you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 
"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 
"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 
"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 
satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 
you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 
he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 
"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 
it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 
that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?
your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 
v. longing
riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 
satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.
you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 
"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  
"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 
"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 
suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 
"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 
you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 
your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 
the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 
and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 
"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 
"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."
his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 
he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 
"me too." 
he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 
"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 
you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 
he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 
"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 
he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 
"mine?" you chuckle.
"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 
"oh? and why's that?" 
suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 
you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 
"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 
"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.
"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 
"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 
suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 
"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 
vi. ice bath
shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.
the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 
"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 
you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.
you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.
suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.
now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 
shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 
where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 
you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 
"shoko?" 
it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 
"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 
vii. acid rain
the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 
"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"
you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 
"let's get out of here, guys."
your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 
satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 
you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?
"do you want to…kill them all?" 
the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 
"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.
you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 
you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.
satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 
"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 
you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 
"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 
"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 
satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 
you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 
"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 
viii. fever dreams
satoru lies next to you. 
a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 
tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 
it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 
his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.
you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 
"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 
"i know." 
ix. doubt
satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.
not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 
"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 
there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 
"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 
he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 
your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 
"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 
there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"
a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 
"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"
"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 
x. shadow
satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.
you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"
"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.
"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."
your head is spinning.
"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"
"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.
"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."
you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"
satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.
"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."
you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.
"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"
shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.
god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.
"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.
"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.
"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"
a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."
you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.
"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"
you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.
his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"
his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."
xi. hellfire
you hear suguru before you see him.
his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.
you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.
or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.
it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.
you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.
now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.
suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.
you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.
"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"
your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.
you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.
"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.
he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"
"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"
"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."
you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.
"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.
"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.
"he went back to the dorms."
"okay."
you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.
the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.
haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.
not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.
you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"
his voice sounds far away. "hm?"
"are you okay?"
he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."
"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."
you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.
"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.
but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.
haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.
"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"
his voice tickles your ears.
"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 
hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.
suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.
you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.
"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"
"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."
something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.
you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 
you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.
but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.
xii. split
he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 
you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 
but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 
that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 
suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 
"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 
"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.
but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 
"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 
"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 
you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.
you don't know what to say to him now. 
"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 
"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 
"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"
the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 
"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 
your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"
suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 
anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 
suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 
"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 
"suguru—" 
"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 
you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 
a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…
"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 
"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 
he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 
you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 
you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."
he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  
you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 
he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 
nobody has laughed in a while now. 
you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 
he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.
"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 
his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 
"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 
a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.
"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 
you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 
"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 
go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 
"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 
"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 
"better late than never, right?" 
the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 
his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 
"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 
"'m not crying." 
suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.
he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 
he doesn't. 
"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"
"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 
he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."
he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 
you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 
you accept your fate then and there. 
you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.
he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.
xiii. sanctify
satoru's at your door again. 
you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 
"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 
YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.
underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 
hotshot failing class now huh? :P
and shoko had added: 
both of you stfu you're failing too 
you had drawn a heart next to her name. 
"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"
satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 
"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 
he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.
a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 
"want help?" 
"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 
"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 
"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 
you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 
"…are all of suguru's things." 
there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 
"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 
satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 
"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 
"guess not." 
you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.
you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 
a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 
"let's get started then, hotshot." 
he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 
but it's enough for the two of you. 
"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 
"so do you." 
"i am," you admit honestly. 
"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 
"i know," you answer. you always are.
nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 
you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  
both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 
you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 
"hey." 
you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 
"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 
you frown. "what are you talking about?" 
"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 
you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 
satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 
you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 
"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 
"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."
xiv. idyll
it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.
tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.
"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.
"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."
"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."
"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."
"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"
you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."
satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"
"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.
"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.
"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."
satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."
he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.
so you don't say anything either.
the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.
when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"
you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."
"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."
"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."
"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."
you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."
satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"
you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"
your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.
he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"
your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"
satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."
he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."
he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.
"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.
his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."
"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.
then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."
everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.
you can't help but smile. "always."
you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.
the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.
he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.
xv. retribution
the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.
he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.
and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.
except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.
he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.
the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.
suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.
you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.
it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.
you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.
a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"
you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"
"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"
your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.
"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"
he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"
there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.
"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.
it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.
his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."
you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.
he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.
you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.
but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?
you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"
he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."
"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.
"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"
he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.
another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.
and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.
he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.
when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.
"you're late, satoru."
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kaysungshine · 8 days
Text
𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡
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{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader
{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship
{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.
{ WC } - 2.9k
{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.
{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.
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The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio. 
You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves. 
You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to. 
You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;
'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.
You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.
This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;
'making music is my stress relief.'
That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off. 
So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative. 
You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship. 
Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc. 
It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress. 
You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could. 
Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new. 
Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock. 
Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.
 You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it. 
In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor. 
There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet. 
You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully. 
You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting. 
He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors. 
He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping. 
You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall. 
Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together. 
When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile. 
"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them. 
He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek. 
"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume. 
Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent. 
"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly. 
That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face. 
You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.
You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin. 
You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.
Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips. 
Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing. 
All white. 
Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.
So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.
He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin. 
"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body. 
He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes. 
All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him. 
He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes. 
Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again. 
His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you. 
His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit. 
"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"
You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love." 
His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation. 
A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it. 
Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance. 
You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light. 
His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good. 
"Ji..." You moan, needing more.
"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.
His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished. 
You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop. 
He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about. 
You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh. 
He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"
Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw. 
He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.
"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck. 
He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting. 
"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..." 
Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all. 
You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back. 
Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him. 
"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."
His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close. 
Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."
And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out. 
You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were. 
That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees. 
You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you. 
"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it. 
He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue. 
His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself. 
You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you. 
"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you. 
His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.
Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything. 
"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.
He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me." 
"Fuck, Ji, I-" 
He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy. 
You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.
"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan. 
He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips. 
You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars. 
His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.
He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up. 
Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him. 
"So fucking sexy, my good girl."
"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."
"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."
"My perfect angel."
It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.
He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful. 
You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming. 
"I love you." You finally murmur. 
"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder. 
"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.
He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you." 
You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it. 
"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you." 
You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip. 
You knew the night was far from over. 
As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you. 
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620 notes · View notes
peterparkersnose · 8 months
Text
Alone with you.
pairing: Michael Gavey x f Felix's friend group!reader
word count: 5k
warnings: smut, fluff before smut, p in v, virginity loss, unsafe sex, mentions of pornography, lots of awkwardness, lowkey slut shaming, hookup themes, michael's hefty ego, 18+
a/n im actually posting? whaaaaat? today was a snow day, enjoy the snowy smut I wrote for my fav today ;)
summary Y/N watched Michael get rejected by Oliver in the bar and couldn't handle that sad look on his face.
masterlist
tik tok- @almondtarg4ryen
c.ai- @mj1218
read time: 18 mins 31 seconds
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The mere look on this stranger’s face was enough to make Y/N’s gut roll. The sheer and utter disappointment of losing the company of… Oliver Quick? THE Oliver that had hung out with her group a few times, the Oliver that nobody wanted to sit with. She glared at Oliver as he sat down, his eyes were immediately fixated on none other than Felix. Y/N rolled her eyes as she looked at Oliver, but then her eyes flicked back up to the tall stranger. His face had faltered and his tiny wave was close to heartbreaking. Absolutely not.
Y/N stood, and Farleigh grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?” he asked, as he noticed your gaze on this mysterious stranger just moments ago. 
“Away.” She shrugged off Farleigh’s touch, Farleigh gave her a look of confusion as he noticed her sudden demeanor of change. Y/N grabbed her coat and purse, storming out of the bar. 
“The fuck is her problem?” Felix asked, noticing you leaving. Farleigh shrugged. “Fuckin’ tweaking over Gavey.”
Y/N ran out into the snow, it had definitely picked up since she and her friends had entered the bar nearly fifteen minutes ago. She saw the man walking, his shoulders slumped as his long lanky legs strode through the snow. “Hey!”
He didn’t turn around, as Michael would never expect a ‘hey’ to be for him. It wasn’t until she caught up to his side, that she caught his attention.
“Oy! Are you deaf?”
Michael stopped. He squinted in his fogged-up glasses, wiping them off just to make sure he had the sight in front of him correct. Y/N L/N? He quickly tried to compose himself, trying to make it obvious that he wasn’t just crying. As he wiped his glasses, he made a subtle wiping of tears that wasn’t as subtle as he would like it to be. He watched her face fall.
“Oh… no,” Y/N spoke softly, which was different from her tone just seconds ago when she tried to flag him down. “You don’t know me, but I’m Y/N.”
Of course Michael knew her. He psychoanalyzed almost everyone and everything in his surroundings, and she sat in the front of one of his boring gen-ed reading classes. He judged her on the first day he met her, as she sat next to Farleigh and they constantly snickered with each other during class. He had a distaste for the American, as Michael was convinced that his ego could have possibly been the only one bigger than his. Her sympathetic and sweet voice caught him off guard, Michael's face stiffened at first, but he soon realized that it was in his best interest to play dumb and not sound like a creep. 
“Oh, right. Y/N from Felix’s group. What do you want?” Michael said with a distaste for her presence. “For you to look at me.” Y/N replied as Michael’s eyes couldn’t meet hers on the snowy street. “And why should I do that?” he snapped at her a bit, she knew exactly how to deal with closed-off people like him. Something about this man intrigued her, she didn’t even know his name. 
“Because,” she smiled a bit, trying to guide herself into his line of sight. “Fuck ‘em.”
Michael was confused. What did she mean Fuck ‘em? Those were her friends, was this some sort of setup? A dare to go after the loser? “Excuse me?” he asked, his defenses keeping a stable tone. 
“Fuck. Them.” she said confidently. Her attitude intrigued her. “Aren't those your friends?”
Y/N shrugged. “Sort of. Definitely not Oliver though,” she cringed at the thought of the weird little man. “Please tell me you are not crying over Oliver fucking Quick, random man whose name I do not know. ” she rolled her eyes, her voice was sympathetic but yet sarcastic.
“No, I wasn’t. And my name’s Michael.”
“Yes you were, Michael.” she replied quickly. 
Michael sighed. He liked the way his name rolled off her tongue, it was definitely something he would be revisiting and replaying in his head during his nightly session alone this evening. He still didn’t like her. He didn’t have to like her to think she was hot, she was definitely wanking material. Even if she did seem like a stuck-up brat to him. 
“You know, if you’re just here to make me feel worse, could you just bug off and go back and tell your stupid little friends that you successfully made me feel worse and–”
She looked genuinely offended, it’s what made Michael’s sentence suddenly falter. “Is that really all you think I am? Some… some bimbo who just sticks around for a chance to make someone’s night more obviously worse than it already is?”
Michael was speechless. Did she truly have good intentions? He didn’t know what to say back, he was genuinely taken back by what she had said. “I don’t get it… why are you being nice to me?” Michael breathed out, his breath imitating smoke because it was so cold. “Because I hated that look on your face.” she replied bluntly. Michael then realized she wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Michael began to feel bad about his former thoughts about her, guilty for just seeing her as some idiot who would purposely hurt someone. But wasn’t she? To him, she seemed like a bitch. 
Michael stared at her with a puzzled expression, he couldn't imagine why anyone would feel sorry for him. Her sympathy is starting to make him uncomfortable. “Thanks?” he said with a questioning tone. “Oliver’s quite a weird bloke,” she said plainly. This made Michael chuckle. It was one of the things he originally liked about Oliver, is that he didn’t mind his weirdness and strange habits and quirks. If she didn’t like Oliver’s strange demeanor, his was much worse. Why was she sticking around? 
“He’s got some sort of weird man crush on Felix. Nobody can figure out if he wants to be him, fuck him, or both.” Y/N spoke like she knew exactly what she was talking about. Her confidence was uncanny. Michael was taken aback by her confidence and her statement. Was his friend, or former friend now, truly in love with Felix Catton? Wasn’t everybody? He certainly wasn’t, and from the tone of this girl, she didn’t appreciate at least his friend group very much. “Weird man crush? What do you mean? Are you trying to say that Oliver is... gay?” 
“He could be,” she shrugged, the snow began to let up. “No hate if he is. I just kind of assumed, I guess that’s not very correct but…” Y/N shrugged once again, trying not to sound too judgy or prejudiced. She truly wasn’t and didn’t want him getting the wrong impression of her. Michael makes a face expressing disbelief and surprise. “You're kidding me. Oliver...gay? Oliver can't even talk to other girls. Are you sure you're talking about the same Oliver?”
“That’s probably why he can’t talk to girls.” she pointed out. Michael was a genius, he should have put two and two together with his friend. Perhaps his intelligence didn’t correlate with his social skills. Y/N noticed this, knowing he was quite an awkward dude. With the liquid courage in her, she asked him one more question.
“May I?”
The snow fell around them as he furrowed his brows in confusion. “Uh… sure?” He didn’t expect her to grab his hand, suddenly running through the square and through campus. They both didn’t notice Felix’s whole group watching them through the window with the most confused faces ever and frankly, neither one of them cared to look back at that stupid pub. 
“Hey! Wait!” he yelled out, her little legs moved surprisingly fast for her height. She ran back towards campus, and within at least a minute or two Michael was huffing for air. “S-slow down!”
She stopped running but kept her hand in his. They were in the middle of the courtyard that was empty, the only disturbance in the fresh snow was their footprints. 
“Do you want to do something fun?” she asked, smiling as she looked up at him. Her smile, the dim lighting, how sweetly she spoke… Michael could nearly melt on the spot. He couldn’t help being amazed by your boldness. Felix's group is full of girls with the same vain and superficial personality, the opposite of you, but you seem pretty unique. “Fun? But what would we do? It's too late for the cinema, and it's probably going to keep snowing all night.” Michael wondered. “You just said it.” She replied, making Michael even more confused. He just said it?
“Do you mean play in the snow?” he asked her, looking down at her as the small periodic flakes moved about. 
Y/N needed a way to crack his awkward tone, get him comfortable with her, and save his night. It was hoped that she would make a new friend, but she wasn’t quite sure yet. She nodded, answering his question. He must think I’m nuts, she thought to herself. A sudden wave of embarrassment came over her, she was about to just apologize for the stupid suggestion when he spoke.
“O-okay.”
Her face lit up, she truly hadn’t played in the snow since she was a child. Even though she had just met him, she felt safe with him. He was creepy by all means, but something about him intrigued her, possibly attracted him to her. She took his hand and pulled him to the ground with him, she giggled as he looked unimpressed. “Really?” he said annoyed, but her smile was enough to excuse her childish behavior. She laid down and began to make a snow angel. Michael looked at her like she was some foreign specimen in a museum. What on earth is she doing? What if someone saw them?
“Come on Mikey!” she cheered, having the time of her life flailing her limbs in the snow. How she said Mikey nearly drove him crazy, her voice was one he could never forget even if they never saw each other again after today. Reluctantly, he laid down next to her in the snow and made a snow angel. Michael felt stupid for falling in the snow like a little kid, but the idea of making a snow angel with another person in the middle of the night was exciting to him. Your smile fills him with joy. He wasn’t as enthusiastic as her, but he gave in to her strange demand. Michael would never admit it, but he was secretly having the time of his life. 
Y/N stood after she finished her snow angel, Michael didn’t notice it at first until she pulled out her little camera and took a flash picture of her snow angel and him on the ground next to it. Michael stood up–why did she take a picture? “Delete that.”
“Make me,” she smirked, taking another sudden flash picture of his face as he sat up. “Do you usually take pictures of strangers or am I just lucky?” he asked, pursing his lips in annoyance and adding that sarcastic bit at the end. She didn’t notice his annoyance at all or just chose to ignore it. “You’re just lucky. And you’re not a stranger anymore.” Y/N snickered and began to walk off. Michael, of course, followed her. Her comment about no longer being a stranger to her made him smirk softly. The gall of this girl. Michael rolled his eyes and tried to snatch the camera away from her, but she was too quick to put it in her pocket. “Do you plan on taking a million pictures of me now? Because I'm starting to feel a little self-conscious.”
“Why? You’re a pretty man,” she spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and he was an idiot for questioning it. That compliment took Michael completely off guard. He froze in his tracks and stared at you, his face immediately turning red and his mouth opened slightly. 
“What?” Y/N chuckled, expecting his reaction. Watching him squirm was just so much fun for her. “Wait... What did you say?” Michael questioned, his tone shaky due to his nerves and the cold. He thought now that he must have misheard her. 
“I said you’re a pretty man.” she replied, like he was stupid for not understanding her attraction to him. In reality, her confidence was just to hide the feelings of feeling a bit rejected. 
Michael stared at her in disbelief, he couldn’t believe the words she just said. Her sudden compliment makes him feel even more self-conscious, his cheeks red and his heart beating much faster. He can barely believe his ears. “You cannot be serious. I am not pretty. It's obvious that I'm not, I don't know why you're trying to make fun of me.”
“Make fun of you?” she asked seriously. “Never.”
Michael noticed her shiver, he still couldn’t get over that someone from Felix Catton’s friend group had called him pretty. This whole evening was a fever dream to him. “Never?” he asked.
“Never,” she confirmed. The two began to walk together around the cold campus in silence for a bit, until Michael spoke up. He was getting cold as well as she was. “So, what's next on our list of silly things to do?” he asked, feeling a bit of an ego boost from her words. “I’m getting cold. We could either stay here and build a snowman… or go back to my dorm?”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“Y-your dorm? Is it close?” he asked. She nodded. “Mhm.” The way she hummed her lips as she spoke made Michael’s stomach flutter. Michael can't help but stare at her when she suddenly says that, the heat rises to his cheeks again, it feels so weird that he is on a snowy night alone with the girl from Felix's group and she asks you to go to her room. “Are... Are you serious? You really want to... To go to your room?” he asked, waiting for her to tell him that she was joking. But she never did. “I am fucking freezing my tits off. Please?” she whined. The mere mention of her tits made him gulp and somehow sweat in this cold weather. He was taken aback by her unexpected choice of words and replied politely. “Okay, yeah. I guess it is a little cold.” he chuckled, stating the obvious as it was well into the negatives. Y/N took Michael’s hand once again, like it was almost second nature, and showed him across campus this time. Michael was thankful she didn’t run this time, he still felt out of breath from that sudden jog earlier. Michael smiles at how impulsive she is, as he lets her take his hand and pull him across campus, the cold biting their faces and their breath rising as they walk through the streets. Although it seems a little weird to Michael to go with her to her room, he can't help but feel happy to have found Y/N on a night as terrible as this one has been up until now.
They reached her dorm. She unlocked it and opened the door, escaping the coldness. She went and flicked on a lamp as Michael entered the single-roomed dorm. Michael stares at her dorm once she switches on the lamp. The place looks cozy and elegant and Michael can't help but wonder what a pretty girl like you lives alone, away from her friends. Michael starts to ask a question, to be a little flirty with you, thinking you may be embarrassed. “So... Do you always bring guys home on such snowy nights? I think that you're supposed to wait for at least three days... You're not really making it easy for me here.” She took his coat. “Huh?” Michael can't help but be amused at the idea that you took his coat from his hands without asking, but he lets you take it and replies in a playful tone. “I was referring to our romantic moment here, you know, there's supposed to be a three-day rule before bringing a guy home. Otherwise, I'll think you're desperate.”
Y/N made a bit of a face at his egotistical words, Michael was borderline calling her a whore. She decided to mess with him a bit. “Who said this was a romantic moment?” Michael felt his heart skip a beat. He softly bit his bottom lip in embarrassment, leaning against the chair of her desk. “I–I… uhm…”
Y/N laughed, approaching him and draping his arms around his shoulders. “I’m fucking with you,” she said teasingly, looking up into his gaze. Michael felt himself immediately relax as he swallowed, letting out a deep breath followed by an awkward chuckle. Michael felt a sudden wave of heat spread to his body when she wrapped her arms around his neck. When she was so close like this, he could feel her body heat radiating off of her and felt the cold receding little by little. “You’re calling me desperate…?” she playfully accused him, cocking her head a bit. “Would you say you're desperate then?” he replied, trying to shake off his shock at her previous answer that rendered him awkward. Y/N chuckled. “Hun. Me? Desperate?” There was a pause. “Are you desperate?”
Her smirk was enough to melt him. Michael can't help but feel amused at her attitude. He leaned his face closer to hers as he replied, while his sudden hand on her waist drew her closer to him. “Desperate? Why would I be desperate? I'm the one here with the pretty girl in my arms.”
She hummed a bit, looking into his eyes with a soft smirk. “You think I’m pretty?” she asked, it felt like a joke to Michael when she asked that. She was one of the prettiest girls on campus in his opinion. Her face was so geometrically perfect in a mathematical sense that it made Michael wonder what her parents had to have looked like. She didn’t look like one who would mess around with plastic surgery, even at such a young age. Michael smirked as he leaned his face even closer to hers, with one hand now caressing her cheek and looking her right in the eyes directly. She can hardly breathe with your lips barely inches away from his.
“I think you’re fucking gorgeous,” he spoke seriously, his words bouncing off his lips and onto hers. Michael's smirk deepens as he leans even closer, just a few inches from her smooth lips, and his voice lowers. “May I?” he asked, reiterating her question from earlier in the evening when she asked for his hand to pull him away from the pub. She answered by kissing him, her lips touching his. She could tell he was a bit inexperienced, but he kept up with the pace nicely. It was almost like he was eager to learn. Michael instantly froze when she kissed him so softly, so perfectly. He suddenly felt that his heart was beating like crazy. He closed his eyes and kissed her, pulling her even closer, feeling both her body warmth and the kiss against his lips. She could see a little excitement in his eyes when he finally broke the kiss. 
“Have you ever done this before?” Y/N asked sweetly, not trying to embarrass him. She just wanted an honest answer, not to tease him. “Never. Not really. I never had such a pretty girl come into my life and kiss me like you did. Are you asking me if I'm experienced or not?”
Michael felt like he had won when he saw her true blush rise to her cheeks, they were no longer red from the cold. “I don’t mean to be rude but… are you?” she asked hesitantly, making sure to ask with utmost care and to sound as sincere as she could. Michael is surprised by her bluntness, but this is exactly why he likes her, her personality is completely opposite to Oliver's vapid friends. He's so impressed by her that he decides to be direct, he doesn't want to hide anything from you now. “Well, if you must know, I... I don't have a lot of experience with women. To be perfectly honest with you, no one has ever cared enough to kiss me until now.”
Y/N pouted her lip a bit in a sweet way, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “Awwe, Mikey.” 
Michael is so moved by the way she called him ‘Mikey’ and touched his hair. That made him completely lose his composure. He feels a surge of emotion as you look at him intently, and even without realizing it, his face gets very close to yours. His hands move on their own, caressing the beautiful face in front of him, and he can't help but whisper softly. “What you said…” Michael took a deep breath, feeling a bit embarrassed to admit this. “You're the first–first girl t-to care about me like that and to kiss me like that.”
Y/N smiled. She felt special to be his first kiss, even if she kind of expected him to be inexperienced. It was then that she decided he was it. She didn’t need her rich, egotistical friends. All she needed was her bratty boy who stood right in front of her. “I find that hard to believe since you’re such a pretty boy.” she smirked, again enjoying watching him squirm. Michael smiled softly and answered in a teasing tone. “Do you want this as much as I do?”
He felt himself using the joking spin on his tone to make it easy for her to back out, he hadn’t realized she was head over heels for him already. He wouldn’t for a very long time, in fact. The sheer thought that a girl as pretty as her would even look his way seemed like divine intervention. 
“Of course I do.” she smiled, kissing him again. This time though, he led her over to her bed, not breaking the kiss as she sat down on her bed. “You kinda know what you’re doing.” she tried to give him some props, to make him a bit more comfortable. Michael chuckled softly and his face blushed a little as she said that, he replied in a playful tone, but he couldn't hide the nervous tone in his voice. “Heh, it's just instinct. I think it would be hard not to know a little bit about this considering your beauty. It's hard to not keep my hands off you.” 
Again, he made her blush and he was in bliss. 
“Instinct or the internet?” she smirked, pushing him down on her bed. His eyes grew wide as she did, he felt his heart nearly burst out of his chest. Michael blushed again when she began to tease him into oblivion. The softness of the covers makes him feel extremely cozy and the warmth of her body feels like heaven. He looks at you and answers your teasing tone. “Okay, maybe I'm a little bit of a pervert and maybe I watched a few adult videos before... But it's also instinct.”
She chuckled at his formality, saying ‘adult videos’ instead of porn. She smirked as she replied, having now sat on his thighs. “That’s adorable.” Y/N began to pull at his shirt. Michael's face is completely red at this point, she can see how he is lost in his emotions and her touch feels so good that he is completely distracted. Y/N can see how he leans his body forward as you pull his shirt off with both hands, enjoying the warmth of his skin being touched. He closes his eyes and whispers softly. “I-If this is what it feels like to be with a gorgeous girl like you, then I wish it happened to me much earlier.”
The praise this boy was giving her was already making her wet. She didn’t know if he was doing it intentionally or not, but she loved being worshiped by him. She had never felt this from any other man, Michael was the first to truly feel like he was honored to be under her will. Y/N quickly threw off her shirt, leaving her in her favorite bra. Michael couldn’t believe he was going to see boobs in real life for the first time. He could not believe his situation right now, as she was the prettiest girl in Felix's group, he never imagined that you would pull him to your room in the middle of a snowy night, and much less that you would strip him right there on your bed. He had now seemingly lost his pants, leaving him in his boxers. When your hands move to pull his boxers off, Michael's breath catches in his throat and all he can do is look at you and admire that beautiful body of yours which is so close now.
“Wait,” he spoke quietly. “Let me just look.”
His hand moved to her waist, taking in her body like a goddess. Y/N turned red. 
“No, please don’t be embarrassed,” Michael spoke caringly, he felt terrible for making her turn red. “Y-you’re just the most perfect creature I’ve ever seen in my whole life.”
Y/N could have melted from his words. And in his praise she smiled, letting her bra fall from her chest and threw it on the floor. Michael’s hands moved to the bottom of her breast, not touching it yet. His thumb rested under it, wrapping the rest of his hand around the side of her chest and to her back. He softly moved his thumb back and forth on her chest, avoiding her breast. “Can I?” he asked respectfully. Y/N nodded, smiling at his innocence and how much he even respected her to ask if he could touch her. 
His hand touched her breast and he let out a little whimper. His glasses were completely fogged. “My god,” he said in awe, brushing his thumb against her nipple. She didn’t expect him to be this enthralled by her. For his good behavior, she leaned her bare chest on his, using it as a balance as she slid off her jeans, leaving her in only her panties. She felt Michael gulp. “Are you okay?”
Michael nodded fervently. “Yes, yes perfect.” he stuttered a bit, pushing his glasses up on his face. She kissed him, her hands moving to his tiny waist as she used her tongue for the first time to kiss him, he moaned into her lips. She pulled away and chuckled. “You’re fucking adorable,” she said, pulling his boxers down now. 
She sighed as she felt his cock move against her underwear, Michael nearly shot up in bed. She chuckled. “Is everything okay?”
His glasses now crooked, he could barely speak. She grinded a bit on his hard cock, eliciting a noise from him Michael didn’t even know he could make. He nodded.
“P-please…” he whimpered. Y/N didn’t know if she wanted to be straightforward or tease him a bit. He looked so needy, so desperate as one of his hands moved to her waist. “I’m begging you–”
She moved her panties to the side, letting the head of his cock move through her wet folds. He nearly busted a nut right then and there. He moaned like no other, almost like he was in pain. But it was quite the opposite. “Do you want it?” she asked him, appeasing herself and teasing him slightly. She sighed, rolling her head back as the tip of his cock swiped past her clit. 
“Yes! Yes! God, yes, more than anything, please.” he begged, trying his hardest not to move her hips and just push himself into her. She finally gave in to his demands, letting herself sink down onto his cock. He pushed his head back, barely breathing as she moved slowly on top of him, his breath caught as she began to ride him. “S-so good…”
She felt his cock push against her g-spot almost immediately, which was strange as she didn’t get a good look at it before. He was surprisingly large. She moaned as it made contact, pressing her hand down on his chest. “Ohhh, baby.” she spoke softly, leaning her head back. Michael’s gaze snapped back up to her, watching her ride his cock. He felt himself growing close already, as she had already been riding him for nearly a minute. He was in ultimate bliss, watching her bounce on his cock. 
“I can’t–!” Michael mumbled. He suddenly realized that he was going in raw, and he was about to cum.
“It’s okay, Mikey. It’s safe.” she could barely speak, as she would explain later that she was on birth control. As she called him ‘Mikey’ again, it was the final push. He grunted as he came, pulling her down on top of him as he did. She didn’t expect this aggressiveness, but understood his need for her. He buried his head in her shoulder as he moaned, pumping his cock into her slowly for a last few times, she felt him kiss her neck. “S’good,” she spoke, pretending to cum with him. Even though it was pleasurable for her, she didn’t cum as quickly as him. She didn’t want to ruin his ego, so she gave him the illusion of faking it. But she wasn’t worried. This wasn’t the last time this would ever happen, he had plenty of other times to make her cum. 
He slowly soaked in her, holding her body against his trembling one. Michael was in shock, not being able to believe what just happened. He had no clue his night would end up like this, and he wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Who knew Oliver Quick abandoning him at a pub was the best thing that ever happened to him? 
She slowly rolled off of him, squishing against the wall in their very limited space on the dormitory’s bed. Y/N chortled when she saw Michael’s face, his glasses were even more crooked and he looked like he had just seen god. “You alright?”
“More than alright, actually.” he spoke out, breathing heavily. She moved a blanket over the two, as the cold was seeping in from her window. She nuzzled up against his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “I’m glad I got this time alone with you.”
As she said that, Michael knew he had completely fallen for this girl and he would never let her go. How she cared for him, how she spoke, and just the whole events of that evening had made him want to start saving money for a ring.
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lizzyiii · 28 days
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His Lady Love (4)
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pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader
taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC ✨
word count | 4k words
summary | reader becomes lost in her thoughts. viserys dies, discussions with helaena, alicent, and aemond
tags | blood, violence, death, angst/no comfort (cuz no one knows she's a vampire), vampire powers, tensionnnnn, reader lowkey supports rhaenyra's claim, but she loves team green as if they're her family sooooo.
note | REMINDER: reader is just a teenage girl who wants her mommy, but is forced to be a blood-sucking vampire. also I haven't thought about the mikaelsons in a while and I just remembered how finn mikaelson was my favourite. #justiceforfinnmikaelson. he's so overhated for what?!!
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨
𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫
You were engulfed in confusion—terribly so. Confusion swirled within you like the smoky shadows of the Keep's halls. The unexpected kiss from Prince Aemond echoed in your mind, a fiery spark that ignited a torrent of thoughts as you navigated the labyrinthine passages of Maegor's hidden passageways heading towards Flee Bottom. Cloaked in shadow, you traversed the dimly lit tunnel—one you discovered long ago during the cold, shadowy days of your arrival in King's Landing. But as you slipped through the ancient stone corridors, your thoughts remained anchored to that fleeting moment when Aemond’s lips brushed against yours—intense yet tantalizingly soft.
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The kiss was a sudden tempest, and the weight of it left you breathless. His strong, musky scent lingered in the air, a potent reminder of his presence, while his calloused fingers cradled your face with an unusual gentleness. You couldn’t help the unbidden smile that crept across your lips. drawing you further from the gravity of your circumstances. In those fleeting seconds, you felt like a simple girl, unburdened by the Mikaelson curse. You imagined yourself as the heroine of a fable, where a gallant prince would pursue his beloved, proclaiming his devotion before stealing a kiss—precisely as Aemond had done.
As you pressed on, a tavern's raucous laughter and the unmistakable aroma of ale and smoke guided your steps. It loomed ahead, a warm beacon against the chaotic backdrop of Flea Bottom. You pulled back your hood, exposure blossoming as you emerged into the dim light. Almost at once, a rather rotund man stumbled out, his unsteady gait hinting at the heaps of wine he’d consumed inside. Fat and flush, with a beard flecked with remnants of his last meal, he teetered on the brink of inebriation, blissfully unaware of the trap that awaited him. With a bleary gaze, he locked eyes with you, his drunken smirk betraying the more unsavory intentions that lurked beneath his merry facade.
Your heart raced—not with fear, but with mischief. Blood would be spilled tonight, but not yours. You softened your expression into a sweet smile, a mask of angelic innocence that belied your true intentions, as you approached.
His dull gaze sharpened upon your arrival, eyes widening as if you were a vision from the Seven’s very own realms. “You’re a pretty girl,” he slurred, the words tumbling from his lips like the last drops from an overturned flagon.
A soft laugh escaped you, a sound like wind chimes in a summer haze. “Am I?” you replied, your voice playful and melodious,.
The man nodded with fervor, his expression blissfully captivated. Beneath the dim lantern light, you could see the way his thoughts scrambled like rats, floundering beneath the weight of both drink and desire. With a teasing tilt of your head, you gestured toward a shadowy alleyway not far from the tavern's entrance. “Why don't you show me how pretty I am?” you beckoned, your tone flirtatious.
His swollen features broke into a foolish, drunken grin as he stumbled forward, entranced, unaware of the peril that followed too closely in your wake. Such was the way of men like him—lost beyond recovery in the coils of their own indulgences, ripe for the taking beneath the watchful eyes of gods indifferent to their fate.
As you entered the narrow alleyway, the shadows seemed to swell around you, encasing you in an ominous embrace. Before you could even turn around, the man's grimy hands, reeking of sour wine and desperation, were upon you, grasping and pawing at your garments.
A wave of revulsion threatened to rise within you, yet you steeled your resolve. Summoning your vampiric strength, with a swift motion, you shoved him hard against the damp stone wall, his body slumping in surprise.
He let out a raucous laugh, the sound echoing off the walls like a jester’s overplayed jest. You grimaced at the foulness of his breath, the acrid scent assailing your senses. “Oh, you’re a strong girl, are you?” he slurred, a foolish grin plastered across his round face.
“Indeed,” you replied, your voice laced with disinterest. Your gaze sharpened, intensity pooling in your crimson irises as you began to weave the threads of your compulsion. “Be silent and remain still.”
With each word, you could feel his will wavering, his body succumbing to your command as his laughter turned into a slack-jawed stupor. The stench of his unwashed skin assailed your nostrils, but it barely registered now as your fangs elongated, sharp and glistening in the hopeless half-light of the alley.
Leaning in close, you felt the rush of your animalistic urges surge through you as your fangs pierced the delicate flesh of his neck, finding the pulsing artery with ease. The man whimpered, his feeble sounds mingling with the night air, yet he made no effort to resist; he was a mere vessel now, a source of sustenance for your insatiable thirst. The bitter warmth of his blood coursed down your throat, igniting a mix of satisfaction and despair.
As you fed, your mind wandered unbidden to Aemond—the fleeting memory of the kiss you had shared igniting a spark of longing that warred with your harsh reality. In that moment, the illusion of being a normal maiden, one capable of love and tenderness, faded into the dark abyss of your existence. The truth clawed at you like a ravenous beast; you were a creature of the night, bound by a thirst that rendered your dreams of affection but a distant whisper.
A wave of sorrow crashed over you, its weight pressing heavy upon your heart. Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring your vision as despair settled deep within your soul. In a fit of anguish, you tore your fangs from his flesh, the act frenzied and primal, as you ripped through his throat. A sob escaped your lips, raw and aching, as you stepped back and allowed the lifeless form to crumple to the ground. Blood smeared across your jaw, a grotesque mark of your nature, but your thoughts strayed not to the corpse before you.
How cruelly fate had woven your path; Aemond, with his fierce spirit and brooding whispers, was a world beyond your grasp. Yet every stolen glance, every shared moment between you only served to deepen the agonizing contrast of your reality. You cast the dead man one last glance, his stillness a haunting reminder of your actions, before turning your back on the grim tableau. As you made your way back towards the Keep, you felt a solitary tear trace a path down your cheek—one more sign of your unfulfilled yearning, echoing in the vast silence of the night.
As you crossed the threshold into your chambers, the heavy atmosphere of despair clung tightly to your spirit. You searched for a damp cloth to cleanse yourself—tinged with the vivid crimson remnants of the blood you had once savored, now leaving a bitter taste in the pit of your stomach. Though the vampiric curse bestowed upon you allowed for days without rest, weariness prevailed, drawing you like a shadow toward your bed.
You felt the weight of your heart, heavy with sorrow and longing for the comfort of sleep—a refuge where you could escape the chains of your reality. Tomorrow, the court would buzz with intrigue and whispers, but you doubted you would leave your chambers. In those fleeting moments between wakefulness and dreams, perhaps you could imagine yourself as someone else—a maiden free of bloodlust, pure and deserving of Aemond's fierce devotion. In those dreams, you could be free. In those dreams, you would be whole.
As the lingering echoes of the previous night's woes finally faded, you stirred, your senses slowly awakening from a slumber that felt both unearthly and heavy with dreams. With a deep sigh, you pushed your head from the pillow, blinking against the fading light that spilled through the window. The sun had dipped lower on the horizon, casting shadows that danced across the stone walls of your chamber—a stark reminder that you had now squandered the day sleeping away.
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With a reluctant grace, you rose from the silken sheets that embraced you, and wrung your hands through your tresses, managing to tame the wild locks that had battled against the weight of sleep. Yet, as you got dressed, a sense of urgency gnawed at you. You drew closer to the heavy oak door, intent on rejoining the world beyond its threshold. However, your fingers merely grazed the handle to reveal that it was stubbornly sealed.
Furrowing your brow in irritation, you exerted a bit more force, pulling at the handle, only to find it locked. A huff escaped your lips, and with a determined glare directed at the obstinate barrier, you pressed your hands against the frame, using your strength and pushed. The wood shuddered against your might, yielding at last, the door swinging open with a reluctant creak that echoed through the silence of the guest wing.
When you stepped into the hallway, an unsettling quiet enveloped you, the stillness stretching like an unseen net. You advanced cautiously, each footfall a reminder that something was amiss. Yet, you dismissed the haunting unease that prickled at your skin, shaking off the chill while you made your way forward, resolute in your purpose, as you sought Helaena’s chambers.
The atmosphere in Helaena’s solar was suffused with the same unsettling. The last rays of sunlight filtered weakly through the stained glass, casting muted colors that danced across the flagstones, but they did little to dispel the heaviness of the atmosphere. Helaena, draped in a gown of pale blue, sat by the window, her gaze lost in the distance, and her delicate embroidery forgotten on the chaise, threads of gold and silver glimmering like fleeting memories.
“Princess,” you ventured softly, stepping closer, your voice barely a whisper against the weight of the silence.
She turned slowly, her features—usually serene—now marred by a deep frown that spoke of profound grief. “Where were you?” Helaena’s voice, though devoid of accusation, dripped with a melancholy that made your heart ache.
“Confined in my chambers,” you replied, concern creasing your brow.
Her eyes drifted downcast, fingers twisting nervously together like the tangled threads of her abandoned work. “I am queen now,” she murmured.
Confusion washed over you, a furrow forming between your brows. “I don’t understand.”
“Father died last night,” she revealed, her voice hollow, as if she were reciting a grim tale rather than sharing a wound that plunged deep into the heart of House Targaryen. “Aegon’s coronation took place at midday.”
“Oh,” was all you managed, the weight of her words pressing down upon you like a winter frost.
You had never anticipated this so soon; the insatiable hunger for the Iron Throne had prompted a brutal and ruthless usurpation. The whispers of civil war—so distant and abstract until now—had materialized into a bitter reality. You settled beside her, the familiar warmth of your presence a fragile comfort amidst the tempest of her sorrow. Gently, you took one of Helaena’s hands in yours, your fingers intertwining. She squeezed your hand tightly, her grip a silent plea for strength, and you could feel the tremors of her despair ripple through the fragile connection that bound you together.
The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across the Red Keep when you at last emerged from Helaena’s chambers. The weight of her weariness had pulled her into a restless slumber, leaving you with a restless heart. You meandered through the stone corridors, each echoing step leading you toward the chambers of the one whose counsel you desperately sought. Upon reaching the heavy oak door, you knocked gently, and a faint voice called from within, "Enter."
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Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit chamber. The flickering flames of the hearth danced, casting a warm glow that played across the fine tapestries adorning the walls. Your eyes settled on the figure seated by the fire—The Queen, though perhaps now, the dowager Queen.
"Your Grace," you greeted, your voice laced with reverence.
Alicent turned, the light catching her features, her once bright eyes now shadowed with the weight of loss and duty. The depths of her large brown irises seemed to brighten with a flicker of comfort at your arrival, but the sorrow was unmistakable as she murmured your name. "I apologize for the constraints placed upon you. My father thought it best that all liege lords and ladies be confined to their chambers in light of recent events."
You nodded, empathy swelling in your chest as you took a seat beside her. "Helaena shared with me the tale of what transpired," you began cautiously, your gaze intent upon the queen's weary expression.
Alicent sighed, the sound heavy with grief. "The King," she spoke, pain sweeping over her like an ominous fog, “he spoke of Aegon, he named him as heir in his final moments.”
Your heart tightened at her words; skepticism gnawed at the edges of your mind. Could it truly be? "Yet, Your Grace," you ventured, a hint of disbelief coloring your tone, "the King had twenty-two years to declare Aegon as his rightful heir."
Alicent turned her gaze back to the fire, the flickering flames casting an ephemeral glow upon her face. The warmth that once radiated from her presence seemed dimmed, replaced with an aura of fragility. She drew a shaky breath. "Perhaps it is not a matter of time, but of choice," she murmured, her words weaving through the shadows of the room, "In that moment of despair, he grasped for certainty amidst the chaos.”
Certainty which embodied the drunken Aegon? A skeptical expression crossed your features, yet the desperation in the Queen’s gaze expressed to you that it was indeed the truth to her. Despite her conviction, you found yourself unable to fully surrender to her narrative. "Then why did Aegon’s coronation happen so quickly?" you challenged, the words falling from your lips like shards of ice.
For this, the Queen faltered. Her eyes slipped away, a slow shake of her head revealing the anguish that resided within. "If Rhaenyra were to ascend the throne, the lives of Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron would be forever in danger," she murmured, the words laced with the indoctrination of Otto Hightower.
You held a quiet disbelief in your heart. Rhaenyra, with her fierce spirit and benevolence, would not turn her blades against her half-siblings without provocation. Still, you understood the origins of Alicent’s dread. After all, Rhaenyra was married to Daemon, who was likely to see the children of Alicent as forever living threats to his wife's claim. Still, all thoughts of treachery were now ghosts in the face of Aegon's coronation.
“Will you accompany me to the Sept on the morrow?” Alicent's voice broke the silence, a quiet plea wrapped in a veil of vulnerability.
In that moment, you were swept away by a tidal wave of longing for your own mother. Before you embraced the demonic creature you had become, your mother had nurtured you with a love akin to that of a fallen star gracing the Earth. Now, you found solace in the fragile figure of Alicent Hightower, clinging to her presence as though she might fill the void left by your lost mother. With a gentle nod, you covered her slender hand with your own, "Of course, your grace."
The dawn’s light seeped hesitantly through the thick drapery of your chamber, casting a muted hue across the stone walls of the Red Keep. You stirred from restless dreams, where shadows danced ominously on the precipice of war. A chill licked the air, as if the very stones of Westeros mourned the blood that would soon be spilled. With a sense of foreboding, you rose before the sun had fully chased away the darkness.
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Slowly, you donned a gown of soft lilac, the fabric whispering against your skin like the breeze that crept through the narrow window. You painstakingly braided your hair, arranging it delicately. Each movement was imbued with both purpose and trepidation, a ritual that anchored you amidst the chaos that brewed beyond the castle walls.
Before the winds of fate had cast you adrift in Westeros, you had known nothing of faith; the Norse gods of your childhood were mere tales spun by your parents, who were as skeptical of the divine as they were of the world outside their doors. In your past life, the gods felt distant, ethereal, and removed from the fervor of humanity. Yet here, in the heart of Westeros, how the world spun differently.
But within the regal presence of Queen Alicent, whose strength and grace reminded you of a lioness guarding her young, your skepticism began to erode. She embodied the devotion of the faith you had once dismissed; her prayers were filled with fervor as she sought to protect her kin and forge alliances among the houses of Westeros. In her company, you found solace in the faith of the Seven. To kneel before the Mother’s statue, adorned with offerings, was to partake in a ritual that tethered you to something greater, something almost palpable
You found solace in the quiet prayer sessions held in the Grand Sept, the flickering candles casting gentle silhouettes that danced like restless spirits against the stone. In the embrace of the faith, you discovered understanding of why mortals have always turned to religion: it was a way to combat the loneliness that often shrouded their hearts, a mechanism to find purpose and justification in their actions. Your fervent prayers often echoed the same request: a plea for safety—not only for the Targaryens, whose fates now intertwined with yours, but for the family you had left behind.
You prayed fervently for the Gods to soften Niklaus’ heart and lessen his wrath. You implored them to instill in Elijah the profound love he often failed to bestow upon himself. For Rebekah, you sought kindness; you yearned for her to see you not as competition, but her cherished sister. You called upon the heavens to grant Kol wisdom, challenging his rampant bloodlust that often clouded his judgment. And for your gentle Finn, trapped in the dark confines of a coffin wrought by Niklaus’s cruelty, you begged for respite—an end to his suffering and a chance to embrace his freedom at last. Your prayers extended toward your youngest brother, Hendrik, and for your beloved mother as well, who now resided among the stars in Heaven.
And even sometimes with a heavy heart, you whispered prayers for your father as well, pleading for mercy in the depths of his obsession, hoping that perhaps one day, he might find forgiveness before it consumed all the Mikaelsons.
Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock at your chamber door. Puzzled, you rose from your vanity, the delicate scent of jasmine lingering in the air around you. As you approached the door and opened it, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Aemond standing there, his presence a commanding force. In that fleeting moment, your mind drifted back to the night years ago when a thirteen-year-old, tousled Aemond had appeared before you—so innocent, so unrefined. But now, the boy had transformed into a striking man, confidence radiating from him.
Time seemed to stretch as the two of you locked eyes, an unspoken weight hovering between you, memories of the kiss you shared two nights prior flooding your thoughts.
“May I come in?” he asked, shattering the spell that had enveloped you both. You nodded, albeit with a hint of hesitation, stepping aside to let him enter. His musky scent enveloped you, a wild and intoxicating aroma that stirred something deep within.
With a small pout lingering on your lips, you inquired, “What brings you here?”
“I came to see how you were faring,” he replied, standing awkwardly in the center of your dimly lit chamber, like the sun caught in the shadows.
You huffed softly, wrapping your arms around yourself, a protective gesture that belied your ancient nature. It was strange—centuries of existence coursing through your veins, a vampire of untold ages; yet here, in the presence of Aemond, you felt like a naïve girl enchanted by the shadows that danced between you.
You spoke with a raw honesty that felt both freeing and heavy, “I’ll confess,” you replied, your voice tinged with frustration, “I’m both surprised and vexed to find myself confined to this chamber all day, only to emerge and learn that the King is dead and Aegon has claimed the throne.” A sigh escaped your lips as you cast your gaze to the side, memories of your family washing over you like a forgotten tide. “I was always the last to know in my family as well."
Aemond stepped closer, a teasing smirk finding his lips, clearly amused by your candidness laced with sass. “I must take my leave shortly to secure Borros Baratheon’s allegiance,” he stated, his voice filled with formality, yet laced with something unspoken.
Your eyes locked onto his striking violet one, and you arched an eyebrow, “So?”
“In exchange for his support, the council has arranged my marriage to one of his daughters,” he murmured, letting the words hang between you like a dark omen, scrutinizing your reaction with utmost care.
"Oh," in that moment, it felt as if your heart had splintered into countless shards. You forced a nod, turning away to shield the tempest of emotions brewing within you, striving for a façade of indifference, “Such is your duty, then.”
“It is,” he admitted, positioning himself directly in front of you, a palpable intensity radiating from his presence. Yet, you continued to avoid his gaze, perhaps in a desperate bid to escape this reality. And as you remained steadfast in your gaze away from him, he added softly, “But when I arrive there, it is Daeron’s hand I intend to offer instead.”
Your heart raced at his declaration, the pulse quickening against the cage of your ribs, yet you still refused to meet look at him, “Why?” you whispered, the question barely escaping your lips.
Aemond softened his stance, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he guided your face to meet his gaze. “Look at me, sweet girl,” he implored, his voice now a low, fervent whisper, compelling you to meet the intensity of his unwavering stare. “Because the only woman in this realm that I wish to call my own is you.”
Pain flashed in your heart, a flood of emotions crashing over you as you furrowed your brows, your voice trembling with uncertainty. “Aemond…”
He leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead, a benediction of sorts. “We will discuss this further upon my return,” he murmured, his breath warming your skin.
With that, he turned away, departing into the shadows that awaited him beyond the door. Alone, you pressed your palms to your mouth, constricting a gut-wrenching sob that echoed in the hollow silence of your chamber, a lament for the hope that quickly flickered out like a dying candle.
next up, Aemond coming back from Storms End
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backwardsbread · 7 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel Characters:
~Marriage proposals~
Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.
A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!
This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))
?Semi proofread?
Lucifer:
This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.
When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.
He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.
(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)
The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.
How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.
With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.
It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.
But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.
He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.
As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.
But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.
When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.
This has to be PERFECT-
He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.
Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.
Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.
He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.
Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.
Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.
(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)
He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?
With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.
But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…
He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)
“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”
Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.
You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.
And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.
The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.
It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.
(I mean. Technically you were)
During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.
Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.
His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.
Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.
You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.
Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.
His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.
His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.
He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.
You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)
It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.
Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.
And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.
You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.
Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.
You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.
His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.
Alastor:
We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.
He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.
The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.
Falling for you was never part of his plan.
He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.
But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.
You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.
You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.
You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.
Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.
This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.
Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.
His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.
There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.
The first time he did this scared you,
(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)
But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.
It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.
You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.
It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.
You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.
It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.
Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.
(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)
(But enough backstory)
More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.
The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.
We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.
“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”
“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”
“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”
“…”
“You do know where we are, right?”
It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.
But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.
The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.
The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.
It irked him.
After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.
It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.
If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.
It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.
You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.
You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.
You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.
Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.
“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”
The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)
He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.
You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.
You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.
Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.
He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.
You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.
Oh- he was serious?????
You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’
Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.
Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.
You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.
You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.
He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.
And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Vox:
Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.
Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.
A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.
He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.
Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.
How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.
(According to him.)
Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.
But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.
Yeah he had it BAD.
When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.
Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.
So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.
It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.
You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.
As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.
Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.
Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.
Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.
He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.
The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.
He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.
As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.
(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)
You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.
The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.
Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.
Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.
Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.
And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.
He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.
Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.
So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.
Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.
It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.
By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.
While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.
He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.
Where the hell did you go??
He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.
He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.
He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.
Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.
The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.
He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.
“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”
(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)
Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.
Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.
“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“
“You better watch your mouth.”
“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”
Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.
The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.
The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.
Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.
You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.
Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.
You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.
You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.
You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.
As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.
He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.
I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.
He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.
For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.
He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.
You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.
He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.
You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.
Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.
It was perfect.
938 notes · View notes
dwaekkicidal · 2 months
Note
pussyplay with channie????? like taping and slapping??? oh god
this plagued me since the second i saw it earlier today so i had to write something for it or else i'd explode.
edit; i was rereading this and realized that you mightve meant taping as in (tape) and not tapping LMFAO if thats what u wanted lmk and i’ll write you something for that bc i lowkey find that hot😭♥️
~700 words | warnings: fingering (f receiving), pussy slaps/taps, generally mean dom chris icl..., exhibitionism
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god Chris and pussy slaps are so MMMMMMMM👹 he's the type to do softer slaps just to tease but hard slaps as a punishment for you misbehaving and/or moving around too much. unless its a day where he's pissed off for whatever reason and you give him the ok to use you. then you're really in for it.
❥ let's say that something went wrong at the studio earlier today; maybe one of his files corrupted and he lost hours worth of progress. i lowkey think he'd be the type to be so angry that he would cry bc he admitted to having anger issues lmao but after that, he's coming home and walking in the door in pure silence. maybe slamming doors subconsciously and/or setting things down aggressively.
❥ and, being the good little toy you are, you pull him into the bedroom and give him the option to either [A] talk about it with you or [B] fuck his anger out using you <3 and who is he to deny that good of an ultimatum???
❥ so he'll get all rough and pin you down to the bed >< almost ripping your clothes as he takes them off. or- better yet, if you have nothing but his shirt on then he's simply pushing your panties to the side. he'll force a few fingers down your throat to wet them and then shove two right into your cunt
❥ he'll finger you soooo meanly and the second you start to squirm too much for his liking or the second your legs try to close, one of those pretty, veiny hands are coming down on your clit >< he might even pull his wet fingers out to slap them across your folds too before plunging them back in
THIS JUST CAME TO MIND BUT IF HE'S ANGRY HE'S DEFINITELY THE TYPE TO SAY SHIT LIKE "This greedy fucking pussy. So tight and can't fit all my fingers in it." *whack* "What am I gonna do with you."
❥ but he's not a complete sadist though, so he'll rub over the area a few times as an apology and maybe give you a kiss or two there. but that's all you're getting <3 because this is about him and for once in his life he's allowing himself to be greedy (🔫), so he's gonna sit there for as long as it takes for his anger to subside (not long but he can and will pretend to be angry just to keep going)
the first way i thought of him tapping your pussy is through your panties ><
❥ maybe you're at an event with him or you're out at dinner with him and the boys. maybe you're just a liiiittle more bratty than usual for whatever reason, maybe you were being rude/a brat the entire way there and now that everyone is sat, you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself. so when it's <15 minutes into dinner, the appetizers haven't even arrived yet, and he already feels your hands on his thigh? his patience is thrown out the window.
❥ even more so when that hand moves right over the semi-hardon in his jeans and rubs it ever so lightly. then you're stealing his hand and sliding it under the table, to everybody else it looks like you guys are holding hands but trying to do so secretly, so if somebody notices they just smile and wiggle their eyebrows at the "PDA."
❥ but in reality you're sliding that hand between your parting thighs and placing your hand over his, basically instructing him to rub over your pussy through your already thin panties. and those thin panties that seem even thinner by the way your wetness seeps through.
❥ he'll shove his tongue into the skin of his cheek, squeeze his legs together to relieve some tension, and then he's swatting your hand away. he'll spread your folds through the fabric just to tap against your clit meanly. he wont even rub it or give it any other sort of attention; just tapping it softly sometimes then roughly the other. the rough ones make you actually jump/shiver and some of the guys catch on, but he'll just say you're cold.
❥ then he's not stopping until you start to make some noise, either if whines start to come out of your throat or if your breaths turn into low moans. at that point, he'll pat you a singular time and remove his hands. he'll act like nothing happened the rest of the night... until you get home c;
531 notes · View notes
4unnyr0se · 2 months
Text
❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - yuu nishinoya & morisuke yaku
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warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, they're sweetiepies, noya is actually a freak, roleplay, switch! noya, hickeys, spanking, mentions of unprotected sex, dom! yaku, slight breeding kink with yaku, cowgirl, doggystyle, they love you so much
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 2k
a/n: im sorry if yaku is ooc i wrote this at 2am and i do not feel like editing anything. n$fw is censored because i would like to keep my blog lmao
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Yuu Nishinoya - SFW
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❥ Absolutely whipped for you the second he lays his eyes upon you. You could be doing anything, literally anything, and he knew right then and there that he would die for you, no questions asked.
❥ He doesn’t really care what qualifies as a “date” as long as he gets to spend time with you. You could be folding laundry together, and he thinks it’s the most romantic date you’ve been on because you’re with him and you’re his entire world.
❥ Spontaneous. Gifts. He’ll send flowers to where you work, give you cool rocks he found while hiking or doing some other such thing, making you a care basket full of your favorite chocolates and snacks, contracting Sugawara to help him write love letters (writing is not his strong suit but he still wants to do it.)
❥ So much food, like…just so much food. You’ve been to every restaurant in town at least twice because that boy loves to eat. Even if you aren’t a big eater, he’ll still make sure you get three meals a day plus snacks. And if you struggle to eat, he’ll be so happy even if you only eat a little bit off your plate.
❥ Quality time and physical touch are his love languages, so expect to be getting kisses often. Pecks on the cheek in public, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you wash dishes in the sink. And if he’s jealous? He has no problem making out with you in front of people because you’re his, and the world should know.
❥ Speaking of physical touch, this man will not stop holding your hand. At least one part of him is touching a part of you at any given moment when you’re together as if he’s afraid you’d float away if he let go.
❥ Hella clingy, this man is incredibly clingy. If you get up to use the restroom when you’re cuddling, he’s waiting outside the door for you to come back so he can kiss those beautiful lips of yours. He just can’t get enough!
❥ Obsessed with you and everything that you do. Did you sneeze? He’s on the verge of tears because you look so fucking cute when you sneeze. Did you buy a new outfit? He’s throwing a tantrum until you model it for him so he can shower you with praise. Noya worships the ground you walk on and them some. 
❥ Lowkey possessive but in a good way. Deep down, he’s worried that you’ll leave him for someone taller or better than he is, so he gets a tiny bit jealous when he sees someone talking to you that he considers a threat. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you like. He would never tell you what you can and cannot do. He respects you too much for that. But he will talk to you about his feelings because he’s mature like that.
N$FW
❥ So. Many. Hickeys. This ties into the part of him being possessive. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his, and what better way to show you off than by parading you around town with your neck and chest covered in little red and purple bruises? You’ve nearly gone bankrupt on buying just concealer because once a hickey fades away, a new one will take its place in no time at all.
❥ Literally anything the two of you do will end in him fucking you or vice versa. If you bend down to pick something up, his hands are groping your ass, and he’s pulling down your panties and shoving his fingers into your pussy, all the while whispering the filthiest things in your ear. 
❥ This motherfucker whines and whimpers, and he’s so incredibly loud about it. The second he shoves his dick inside, he becomes a babbling, pussydrunk mess that’s only focused on you cumming all over his cock.
❥ Noya is 100% a switch who doesn’t lean towards being submissive or dominant. He just does whatever you want him to. Do you want him to fuck you stupid for hours on end? He’s down for that? Do you want to tie him up, blindfold him, and ride him until he can’t think. Also completely down for that. 
❥ Endless stamina. As long as you’re up for it, he can fuck you for the entire day. He simply doesn’t believe in a recovery period on his end. He’ll fuck you from sunrise to sunset. All you have to do is ask.
❥ Tits man 100%. Noya loves tits, no matter the size or shape. If you have huge tits, he’s fondling them as he takes you from behind. Medium-sized tits? He sucks on them as you ride his cock, relishing in the taste. Small tits? He plays with your pert nipples as he fucks you missionary. All tits are good tits in his eyes
.❥ Highly experimental in the bedroom. He’ll try anything and everything if it means you both get to feel good. From you pegging him to him filming your third orgasm of the night, he’s down for whatever. The only things he isn’t okay with are hitting you (impact play) and sharing you with others. He will casually slap your ass but that’s as far as he’ll go. He just can’t bring himself to hit you, even if it turns you on.
❥ Could eat you out for literal days and not get tired, not even for one second. He wants you cumming on his tongue and pulling on his hair as you beg him for more, and he’ll give it to you.
❥ Focuses on your pleasure, not his own. You’re his goddess and he’d do anything to serve you, anything to make you cum again and again.
❥ Has a whole index of kinks, but his top ones are roleplay and passionate sex. Dress up as a teacher, and he’ll cum in his pants, begging on you to punish him for failing your class.
❥ Loves to make love to you.
❥ “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, angel? M’gonna make you cum so fucking much for me, my perfect angel.”
❥ “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of this dick, can you baby? Gotta fuck you stupid.”
❥ “More, I want more! I’ve been so bad, I deserve to be punished, ma’am!”
❥ “Talk to the camera for me, angel. Tell the camera how many times my cock made this pussy squirt all over the sheets.”
❥ “Gonna fucking cum inside, can’t pull out. Oh, fuck, baby, you’re fucking milking me dry, shit.”
❥ “Faster, fuck me faster! Wanna fucking cum so bad, please! I’ve been good, right?”
Morisuke Yaku - SFW
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❥ Loves when you get an attitude with him because he also has an attitude. He loves when you talk back to him and when you tell him how you really feel, it’s just so refreshing. Honesty is very important to Yaku.
❥ You and Yaku basically continue to mother Lev well after you’re both graduated. Lev will call and text you for advice and you’ll gladly help him, even if Yaku gets a little jealous that you’re paying more attention to the oversized Russian than you are to your own boyfriend.
❥ Takes you on the most romantic restaurant dates ever. He has professional athlete money, so order whatever the hell you like! If you want five lobsters, get five lobsters. As long as his baby is happy.
❥ Spoils you rotten, but he won’t ever admit it. If you point out a cute necklace that you saw in a magazine, it’s there when you wake up the next morning. Yaku will pretend to not know how it got there, but he knows, obviously. Expect lots of expensive gifts when you’re dating, especially from designer brands. Half of your closet is Chanel and you sure as hell aren’t complaining.
❥ Not that big on PDA, but will wrap an arm around your waist in public. Since he’s a well-known libero in the Russian Volleyball League, he gets approached on the street sometimes. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself (especially if you hate getting attention from strangers, so he holds off on kissing you until you’re in the privacy of his penthouse apartment.
❥ Pleads and begs until you adopt a cat together. He just wants a cat with you, any cat will do. It can be a cat you found in a dumpster or a cat that cost someone’s entire yearly salary, he just wants a cat to raise with you by his side.
❥ Wraps his arms around your waist as you cook and leave kisses on your neck. Whether you’re taller or shorter from him, get ready for hugs and kisses from behind.
❥ If you struggle with your body image, he’ll kiss away all your insecurities. His lips will be on yours for hours as he tells you how perfect you are, and how much he loves you. He’ll kiss away your tears as you start crying as well, because to him you are perfect.
N$FW
❥ Not very vocal in bed, but he does make plenty of grunts and groans. The only time you’ll ever really hear him moan is when you bite down on his incredibly sensitive neck, which will make him cum on the spot.
❥ Advocate for safe and healthy sex but prefers to hit it raw. He’ll use a condom if you want him to, he isn’t a monster. But the way you react when his cum fills out of your womb makes him want to wife you up and fuck you every single day.
❥ Designer lingerie is his weakness, especially the ones with garters that squeeze your thigh beautifully. If you wear red lingerie around him, be prepared to not be able to walk tomorrow because he will ruin your pussy.
❥ 100% a pleasure dom. Nothing makes him happier than knowing that he fucks you so good each and every night that you can’t even get off without his help anymore because that’s how much he loves to fuck you.
❥ Ass man. His hands will be on your ass all the time and you just have to accept it. He loves to fuck you from behind because he’s mesmerized by the way your ass moves as he fucks you. His favorite position is doggystyle.
❥ A weird turn-on for him is when you walk around wearing his jersey. He fucking loves it when you wear his jersey, and he can see your lacy panties poking out under the shirt, it drives him wild. If you wear his jersey, he gets an instant boner.
❥ Sit. In. His. Lap. Sit in his lap and dry hump him. He needs it so badly. He loves watching as you struggle to get off on his thigh. You look so cute when you’re desperate.
❥ Definitely a brat tamer. He loves it when you have an attitude because he gets to fuck it out of you later, spanking you as he tells you how much of a brat you are and how you need to learn your lesson. You never do.
❥ Mirror sex. He’s mesmerized by how adorable you look in the mirror as your pussy struggles to take his girthy cock.
❥ “Yeah? Look at yourself in the mirror, princess. Look at how your slutty little pussy is taking me. You’re such a little slut, you’re my little slut.”
❥ “Did you think you could just walk around in my jersey and nothing else? Bend over, princess, right fucking now.”
❥ “I’m so fucking close, shit. You want me to cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up and give you my babies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
❥ “Fuck, you know what red does to me. So fucking slutty for me, babygirl. Now get on the bed and spread those legs nice and wide like a good girl.”
❥ “Take it, fucking take it. That’s my good girl. I love it when you behave for me, princess. Can I get another one of you, my love? I think you can handle another orgasm.”
❥ “You look so pretty when you cum, princess. Do you like how your Morisuke makes you feel? Use your words, princess.”
400 notes · View notes
goldfades · 8 months
Text
✮ 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | jack hughes
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♡ ─ word count | 3.8k
♡ ─ summary | when you and jack had parted ways, somehow you both knew you'd meet again somehow.
♡ ─ warnings | second chance romance!! slight angst (nothing too crazy), fluffy as fuck!!! jack being a cutie patootie, bsf x luke hughes cus why not???? mention of drinking/bars but that should be it.
♡ ─ taglist | | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke
♡ ─ ev's notes | okay, so this started off as sweeter than fiction fic but slowly turned into an invisible string fic, but its okay. they both slay and lowkey work well together!!
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No matter how hard you tried to forget Jack, you never could.
The moment you both laid eyes on each other, each of you knew it was game over for everyone else. Everyone else was merely everybody else, and the other was just the one. From the first hello to the last goodbye, there was a connection neither of you could fathom.
Jack was more than just your first love or your first everything, he soon became the key to solving all your problems and the keeper of all your secrets. He was the funniest and kindest person you knew, no matter how long you'd been together. That never changed, even after you two parted ways.
It's been almost three years since you seperated but you can still how he made you feel, and all his favorite things: how he liked his coffee, what side of the bed he slept, his favorite soda and how to cheer him up. However, if someone had asked you where he was now, you couldn't tell them.
Well, not necessarily. You knew he plays some NHL team and he was doing what he's always loved, that's all you knew for sure. Some things never change, you guess.
Sometimes, you would wonder if he ever thought of you. Were you just a passing thought or a lasting memory? Did he remember everything or did he forget it? Those questions kept you up at night. But, at the end of the day, you realized that you were happy for him because he was out there, pursuing his dreams. Even if you weren't in those stands, wearing his jersey cheering him on, like he'd always promised.
──
"A hockey game?" You repeated, staring at your best friend Brie. She shook her head, a big smile on her face.
"My friend got tickets a few months ago but he got covid, so he gave them to me. And I knew you were a fan of hockey, so why not?" Brie explained as she leaned back into the couch.
"Not really-"
"Well you grew uo in Ontario so that makes you a hockey fan by association. You're going, end of discussion." Brie sighed exasperatedly, feigning annoyance as a smile enveloped your face. You had no choice now, you had to go.
You couldn't help but chuckle at Brie's determination. She always had a way of roping you into things, and this time was no exception. Despite your initial reluctance, the prospect of attending a hockey game stirred a sense of excitement within you.
A few days later, you found yourself growing curious about the experience. Memories of watching hockey matches with your family in Ontario flooded back, reminding you of the excitement that accompanied each game. One memory stuck out to you, you couldn't remember much but you do remember the warm feeling of his jacket and how your heart was beating- No, no. Focus on the now, Y/N. You reminded yourself as you forced yourself out of your head.
You navigate your way through the big arena and you both finally found your seats, settling in as the game was beginning. Settling into your seat, you let yourself soak in the atmosphere, the sights and sounds of the arena becoming a backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.
The players take to the ice and the game begins, you find yourself swept up in the thrill of the moment. The cheers of the crowd fill the air, each goal and save met with loud applause and excitement. You missed this.
"Y/N, look! That's the one I was telling you about, the one who followed me. Isn't he cute?" Brie spoke with a warm blush on her face, pointing out a number 43. You nodded, watching him glide.
He looked slightly familiar but you couldn't place it. "Wait... Is that why we're here, Brie?"
"What? No. What do you mean? What?" Brie's blush spread to her entire face as she let out a giggle, a telltale sign of her lying. You shook your head with a laugh, of course there was an ulterior motive to coming here.
She let out a sigh and then continued, "Okay fine. He invited me to the game, with free tickets. You wouldn't say no either, alright?"
"Yeah, free tickets are free tickets." You shrugged with another laugh. "Is he cute?"
"You'll see, he told me to come to the bar after the game."
"And I have to come?" You sighed, leading back into the uncomfortable seat of the stands.
"Don't sound too excited, Y/N." She teased as you rolled your eyes playfully. "He has a cute brother and I heard the captain is hot, so... you won't be third wheeling entirely."
"Okay, fine. But what if they aren't cute?"
"This is hockey, babe, there is a very low chance of that happening." Brie said with a big grin as you laughed. That was true, they all happened to be very cute.
With each passing minute, the anticipation grew, fueled by the idea of meeting Brie's acquaintance and his friends. Despite your initial hesitation, there was an undeniable curiosity about what the night held in store.
As the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close with another win for the Devils, you found yourself caught between anxious anticipation and excitement. The promise of a post-game gathering lingered in the air, pulling you into its orbit with a magnetic force you couldn't resist.
Brie quickly took you out of your trance, grabbing your hand to rush to the bar. As you entered the busy bar, the atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the excitement of post-game celebration. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat as you nervously walked beside Brie to find her friend.
She pulled your sleeve and pointed to a curly-head in the distance before whispering, "That's him."
"Whoa, he's tall."
"I know." She whispered back dreamily as she stared before walking towards him, a confident smile on her face whilst you followed her.
He turned around and your eyes widened. He was familiar, you knew exactly who he was. Luke Hughes, Jack's little brother. Instant regret hit you as you hoped and prayed he wouldn't remember you.
Thankfully, he looked right at Brie with a huge grin. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it."
He leaned in for a hug and your eyebrows rose, they were already on hugging terms? As they pulled apart, his gaze moved to you and his features changed into a knowing one. You plastered on the best smile you could and silently prayed he didn't remember you.
"Y/N?"
Shit.
But that wasn't Luke's voice, you turned your head to the side to see him. "Jack?"
As the name escaped his lips, your heart skipped a beat, the world around you seeming to slow to a crawl. Time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, the familiarity of his gaze stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. His blue eyes boring into yours, your heart racing.
In that moment, the weight of the past crashed over you like a tidal wave, memories flooding back with clarity. The sound of his smooth voice, the warmth of his sweet gaze—it was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were transported back to a time when the world was simpler, when your love felt like an unbreakable bond.
For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes to only the two of you. Memories of your shared past flooded back, the laughter, the tears, the love that had once bound you together, all laid bare in the space between you.
Jack's expression softened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in your features. It was as if time itself had stood still, freezing this moment in eternity, the echoes of your past reverberating through the air like a haunting melody.
"Jack, buddy, you're about to spill the drinks." Luke's voice drew both of you out of your trance and back into the present moment and out of your head.
"Yeah, um, sorry. Here." Jack nodded to his brother and handed him the beer as you stared back at him, a troubled expression plastered on your face.
As Jack handed the beer to Luke, the brief interlude allowed a moment of reflection from the intensity of the small exchange. The tension lingered between you, a reminder of the emotions simmering under the surface.
You struggled to find the words to break the silence, the weight of your past weighing heavy on your heart. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.
Finally, Jack turned back to you, his gaze searching, as if looking for answers to questions left unasked. The troubled expression on your face mirrored the emotions swirling in you, a storm of conflicting feelings that threatened to engulf you both.
"I... It's been a while," Jack began, his voice hesitant, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.
"Yeah, it has," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The memories of your shared past lingered like a ghost, haunting the space between you with their silent presence.
Luke looked a Brie with a knowing look, taking her hand warmly and glancing between you and Jack. "I think me and Brie are gonna get some drinks, we'll be right back."
Before anyone could reject, Luke pulled away your best friend to the bar and she turned around with a sympathetic smile and a shrug. You cursed the younger Hughes as you sighed. Now you have to face Jack alone, without the comfort of your best friend.
You and Jack once again found each other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes with warmth and recognition. His eyes were still as blue as you left them but he looked more mature, facial hair growing on his chin and his hair a little longer but you thought it suited him. But he still has the boyish charm to him, the thing that made you fall for him in the first place. His mouth curved up into a small smile as he watched you observe him.
"How've you been?" His voice echoed and that was another that hadn't changed. You had forgotten his voice on the course of the couple years of separation, you forgot how sweet and smooth it was.
"I've been..." You trailed off, not knowing what to exactly. "I've been good. You?" You settled for a simple answer, not knowing exactly where you stood yet.
"Can't complain." He responded with a shrug, take a sip of his beer. Silence once again filled the space between you as you gazed at each other.
In the absence of words, your gaze held a conversation of its own. The warmth and recognition in Jack's eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within you. For a moment, it was like you were seeing him for the first time again—his features bathed in the soft glow of recognition, his smile warm in the rest of world's darkness. The years had etched lines of experience onto his face, sculpting the contours of his features into something familiar yet different.
And yet, beneath the surface, there remained a sense of familiarity—a connection that defied the time itself and the hurts of the past. It was a reminder of the depth of your shared history, the moments that had shaped you into the people you had become.
You couldn't help but wonder what thoughts raced through his mind, what memories stirred beneath the surface. Did he too feel the weight of the past, the pull of unfinished stories waiting to be told?
"You grew your hair out." He stated softly as he examined your new look. "It looks good."
"Looks like you did, too." You smiled softly and he let out a warm laugh, and it was infectious. The memories, rushed back into your mind at the happy sound and your stomach did a flip. Another thing that hadn't changed, the sweet sound of his laugh.
"Yeah, that's what hockey does to a guy." He explained, his eyes glowing beneath the warm light of bar.
You chuckled, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Guess it comes with the territory. You always did love the game."
Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of sentimentality in his eyes. "Yeah, some things just never change, I guess. Hockey's been a constant in my life and I don't think I'll ever stop."
The shared memories of watching games together, the thrill of victories, and the hurt of defeats lingered in the air, connecting you both in a shared history that time hadn't erased.
"I remember how you used to explain the rules to me, as if I was clueless," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.
Jack laughed, the sound a symphony of familiarity. "Hey, but you caught on quick. Besides, it was a good excuse to spend time together."
The mention of spending time together cast a gentle shadow over the present moment, a reminder of the shared past that had once been the foundation of your connection. The complexities of life had woven a tapestry of experiences, leading you both on separate journeys, yet the threads of your history remained intertwined.
"But hey, the hair suits you," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. Despite the years that had passed, there was a sense of ease in the way you spoke to each other, as if no time had elapsed at all.
Before he could respond, you were suddenly pushed from the back and flew right into the arms. You were shocked and turned around to see a drunk man stumbling. Suddenly, Jack's arm twisted around your shoulder, a protective stance.
"Shit, sorry." He slurred before walking away into the crowd.
The sudden proximity between you sent a jolt of awareness coursing through your veins, the closeness igniting a spark of familiarity that lingered in the air like electricity.
As the chaos of the moment subsided, the realization of how close you two had been struck you with a sudden clarity, leaving your cheeks warm and your heart racing. You both stared into each other's eyes before Jack spoke softly. "Let's go somewhere quieter, yeah?"
With a nod of agreement, you instinctively reached for his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent pact as he led you through the crowd and out into the cool night air. The sounds of the bar faded into the distance, replaced by the soft murmur of the night.
He let go your hand, the cool night air hit the warm area that his hand once was. He gazed out into the night as you looked to the side of his face, a warm feeling filling your body in spite of it being cold outside.
"So, you play on the same team as Luke?" You spoke, breaking the silence between you two.
His lips curved into a smile as he nodded, "Yeah, isn't that funny? We always talked about playing together again but it's cool that we can actually do that now."
You couldn't help but marvel at the twist of fate that brought them together again. The bond between Jack and Luke was woven with shared memories and childhood dreams, all coming true.
"It's amazing how things come full circle," you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.
"Yeah and Quinn's finally got the captaincy, it's perfect." Jack continued. He looked happy and content with the way things were turning out with his career and his family, it made you happy seeing him happy. "What about you? Anything exciting?" He turned his attention to you, his blue eyes gazing into yours.
You smiled. "Not as much as you, definitely. But I'm about to graduate and get an apartment, all by myself up in New York. Found the perfect one yesterday and I'm driving up there to see it."
"Just like you always wanted, huh?" Jack's smile grew at that. He was comforted knowing that you hadn't changed too much and you were still same old you, despite how many years that had passed.
"Yeah, it's right in the middle of the city, with windows everywhere so I can watch the city move."
Like you had always wanted, Jack thought in his mind with a big smile. "So we are both chasing our dreams, then?"
"Yeah, something like that." You laughed and he joined along. The warmth of his laughter filled your lungs and you felt like you were out of breath just by laughing along with him. It was perfect. The laughter had died down and you both still were locked in gaze.
For a moment, it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the quiet intimacy of the night. The warmth of Jack's presence enveloped you like a comforting embrace, grounding you in the present moment amidst the chaos of the world.
His smile slowly dropped as he kept looking into your eyes. "Why'd we ever break up?"
The bluntness of the question had taken you aback. And you started thinking back to why you broke up. As you searched for an answer, the weight of the past pressed down upon you, a heavy burden that threatened to consume you whole. The reasons for your breakup lingered on the edges of your consciousness, fragments of half-forgotten truths waiting to be unearthed.
You were moving away to college and he was getting into the NHL, the only logical way to go about this about was to break up. Long distance wouldn't have worked and plus, you were both growing up and getting into new worlds, you didn't want him worrying about you while he was out there, pursuing his dreams.
But deep down, you knew that the choices you had made had led you to where you were now, standing face to face with the echoes of your past and the possibilities of the future. The memory of your break-up was clear in your mind, with all the anger and resentment both of you had in that one moment. But something you had said suddenly stuck out to you, "If we are meant to be, we will."
And we did. You thought to yourself as you stared into Jack's eyes. "We were both growing up and moving away, and I-I guess... I didn't wanna burden you."
Jack's expression softened. "Burden me?"
Silence filled the air once again but this time, you felt embarrassed. How could that have led to the break-up? It seems so small but it felt so big before, like it was the end of the world.
"Yeah," you admitted, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Jack's eyes again. "I was worried about holding you back, about becoming a distraction when you had this incredible opportunity in front of you. I thought breaking up was the right thing to do, to give you the freedom to chase your dreams without any restraints."
Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We were in it together, remember?"
"I'm sorry, Jack," you whispered, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I... I wish things had been different."
He immediately shook his head and slowly took your hand. "Don't apologize. If things had been different you don't know how that would've worked out, but right now, everything that led us here is perfect." He said sternly as you nodded slowly.
With a nod of agreement, you allowed his words to seep into the depths of your heart, a gentle reminder that the journey you had embarked upon together with twists and turns but ultimately, it had led you to this moment and that was enough.
"I believe that too," you whispered, your voice tinged with hope and conviction. "Every step we took, every choice we made, brought us here, to this moment."
Jack's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. "We found each other again for a reason, don't you think?"
You nodded softly as you gazed back at him, warmth filling your whole body. Before you could answer, you felt a buzz in your pocket and sighed. You were ripped away from this perfect moment and back to reality. You took your phone out and saw the caller ID: "Brie <3"
You answered it, "Hey, Brie."
"Hey, so where are you? I just remembered I have a 9am lecture tomorrow."
You sighed before shaking your head. Brie and her bad memory, "I'm, uh, outside."
"Great, I'll meet you at the car. We have a lot to debrief tonight."
"Oh yeah, a whole lot." You laughed as you stared back at Jack's face with a warm smile. "'Kay, love you."
"Love you."
She hung up and you were met with Jack's gaze, pulled back into the moment. Again, there was silence before you spoke up. "Well, I gotta go."
"I figured." Jack spoke as a smile curved his mouth.
"I'll... see you, then?" Your voice came out in a quiet whisper as he nodded.
You turned around and started walking before you stopped. You couldn't leave without anything, right? It wouldn't be right. You turned around swiftly with a warm smile. "Umm... when can I see you?"
Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by your sudden boldness, but a smile quickly spread across his face, warming the space between you.
Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about tomorrow? We could grab coffee or something, catch up properly."
Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, the prospect of spending more time with him filling you with a sense of anticipation and joy. The thought of reconnecting with Jack, of rediscovering the depths of your bond, ignited a spark of hope within your soul.
"That sounds perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
As you exchanged details and finalized the plans, the air buzzed with anticipation. The promise of tomorrow held the potential for new beginnings, a chance to explore the rekindled connection between you and Jack.
As you parted ways, each step carrying you closer to the promise of tomorrow, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the chance to rewrite the narrative of your story, to carve out a future filled with forgiveness and the prospect unfulfilled promises you once made, coming true.
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
754 notes · View notes
virgolixx · 4 months
Text
Head cannon:
:what these one piece men do/react to you being mad at them:
Sanji, Zoro, luffy, Ace,
Theme: Fluff💕
⚠️Warnings: clingy sad boys, overall happy ending
(Authors note: Hello to those who have left requests I apologize that I am taking so long to get them out, I lowkey abandoned this account for some time, hopefully I can get those request out soon as I can, for now enjoy this head canon.)
(Also sorry if there are grammar/spelling mistakes)
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Sanji
Reason to why you’re mad:Sanji was giving women heart-eyes that were only now looking at him due to the straw hats saving the islanders danger.
You’ve been ignoring Sanji the entire day this man is literally devastated/crying and sweating.
Once knowing why you are mad this man is begging on his knees for you to forgive him
Sanji would cook you your favorite meals and snacks in hopes it would be a nudge to get you to speak with him again and let him give you all his love, but being salty and still mad you would scream for luffy and give him the meal Sanji made. Sanji would be on his knees in tears and then trying to fight luffy.
Once night hit, Sanji gave an entire speech to you as to how sorry he was while you were getting ready for bed, until you told him “don’t wait for me I’m sleeping at Robins and Nami’s room tonight”. You were enjoying a girls night sleep over, while Sanji was tossing and turning in bed hugging your scented pillow, until he just couldn’t bare it anymore and stormed over to the girls room.
Barging into the room Sanji throws him self to the floor crying as how he misses you with him, and that he only wants you and those other women where nobody’s to him. The room was silent for a minute until Sanji heard footsteps coming closer and feeling someone pulling him up.
You wave good night to the girls and lead Sanji to your shared room, quiet. Once in the room you hug Sanji and finally let him know your emotions, “Please Sanji only me…no flirting with other women”. 
Sanji lefts your chin and gives you a sweet loving kiss and tells you, “I promise my love, you are in my future I want”.
Picking you up bride style he walks you both over to the bed and lays you down in a position where you are slightly on top of him and cuddled you till falling asleep.
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Zoro
Reason to why you’re mad: You and Zoro had an argument about how clingy you were at times, he was always with you why couldn’t he just have workout time as his alone time. While you just wanted to support him in his hard work to reaching his goal, to bring him snacks and water to stay hydrated.
It’s be 3 days since the fight, and you’ve distanced yourself from Zoro, no more morning or good night kisses, you haven’t snuggled up against him let alone joined him with afternoon naps, and of course you haven’t joined zoro as his personal cheerleader during his workout sessions.
Zoro is feeling grumpy and misses you desperately but with his tough macho ego he did not budge till the third day when he awoke from his daily nap under the tangerine tree, he didn’t feel the the warm weight of you on his lap where you usually are. Instead he hears your voice coming from the kitchen chatting away with Sanji.
Standing up Zoro goes over to you in the kitchen and looks at you from the door gram with his arms crossed, feeling his heart twist with how pretty your smile looked he walked over to you and picked you up and placed you over his shoulder.
Walking away Zoro heard Sanji yell, “Hey Moss head We were talking, and you don’t pick up a lady like that”! “Yeah, yeah what ever shitty cook”, zoro spoke.
Back under the tree Zoro sits down as he places you on his lap you facing him, one hand on your hip while the other grabs hold of you hand playing with your fingers. Absently looking to the side.
“Zoro”, you speak out as you place a hand on his cheek to get him to look at you, “you okay”?
“3 days”, he spoke. “What”, you ask confused? “You haven’t been joining me these past 3 days…..and”, sighing deeply. “I don’t like it at all”.
“I was just trying to give you your space zoro”, you spoke softly with slight hurt as you were still sad from the argument. Pulling you in zoro hugged you semi tightly with his face in the crook of your neck taking in your scent. “Don’t, not to this extent anymore, I miss you…..miss the kisses, our naps, and my personal cheerleader”.
Pushing zoro’s shoulder slighty back, you kiss his cheeks and then on the lips, “what do you say should we take a nap”, you say. Smiling softly Zoro approves and positions you into a more comfy position. “Yeah, I’ll finally have a good nap with you here”, zoro spoke as he dozed off.
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Luffy
Reason to why you’re mad: You argued at how reckless he is, and always getting seriously injured, and he’s always just brushes it off with a laugh.
Luffy got badly injured during his last fight and was out cold for 2 days, of course you were by his side, and of course luffy laughs off the situation.
I know for a fact this boy would never know why exactly your mad of, until either Sanji or robin tell him.
He gets serious and understands the situation, he gets it you’re just afraid one day you could lose him to an extremely powerful foe.
Luffy is following you around the thousand sunny trying to get you to talk to him he’s even offering you a plate of meat his favorite food, but nothing you continue to do your duties on the ship.
Sulking and pouting he sits on the deck cross-legged, till he sees you walk out and finally enjoy your break, Luffy yells your name and uses his gum-gum powers to pull you to him and settle you on his lap.
His arms completely wrapped around your torso you have no chance of escape, as he finally told you, “you know you’ll never lose me right, I’ll continue to get stronger to keep you save”.
Finally relaxing in his hold you look at him with tears in your eyes and a smile, “Just don’t scare me like that anymore, I can’t stand seeing you hurt”.
Laughing brightly as you kiss luffy all over his face he hugs you tightly and softly says, “I won’t ever my queen, I promise”. Luffy then kisses your temple and finally on your lips.
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Ace
Reason to why you’re mad: Ace was gone for a month longer than expected on a separate mission White beard sent him on, that’s 2 whole months and when he came back boy was still so busy with errands around the ship. Feeling a bit sad/salty you leave the grand dinner party for ace’s return early.
Once returning to the Moby dick ace spread his arms open wide for you as you ran to him for a big embrace. Once engulfing you in a hug ace spins around laughing as you giggle and cover his face with kisses. Once putting you down you tell ace, “you’re finally back I’ve missed you so much”. “Ive missed you so much as well my love”, ace told you as he cupped your face leaning down for a kiss.
Sighing you tell ace to not leave your side anymore and wanting to spend the afternoon cuddling and later get some food, sighing deeply ace tells you, “I wish I could love but I still have to talk with pops and complete some errands on the ship”. “No can’t you do them tomorrow please ace”, you told him softly.
Once again ace tells you, “Sorry love I can’t but in a few hours I’ll be yours alright”. Ace then kisses you and walks away to talk with pops.
Throughout the entire afternoon you watched with longing as ace was talking with other crew members and completing his work until it was finally dinner time. You sat beside ace with your plate of food trying to talk with him but kept getting interrupted with the others talking with ace.
After a while you grew tired and a tad bit petty how ace still didn’t chat with you and only with the other members, you decided to leave and go to your and ace’s room. Not even 10 minutes later ace tried to place his hand on where your thigh should be but just felt the hard bench. Looking over he fully noticed you were gone but your plate still practically full.
“Excuse me” Ace spoke as he stood up with his and your plate, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”. Reaching your shared room ace switched on the lights of the room and places the plates of food on the desk, walking over to you ace plops him self over you self grumbling a sorry and that he was now finally yours for the rest of the night n has brought your plate.
As you looked over at ace still a bit mad you quickly get soft as ace is giving you puppy dog eyes and pursing his lips for kisses, with a sigh you cup ace’s face and kiss him.
After the kisses ace gets up and walks over to the plates of food, he hands you your plate and sits beside you. You both continue eating and chatting away to soon cuddling the night away.
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junicult · 11 months
Text
!! the bachelors as fathers
contains ; sfw! sooo much fluff. fem!farmer. unnamed child. established relationships — marriage. your child is implied to be around kindergarten age. men that are good w kids hehehe. not proofread / slightly rushed in some parts. i’ll edit it later LOL.
note ; i get asks on this topic at least twice a week. i’m finally caving. here’s my birthday gift to you <3
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harvey.
- he was honestly made to be a father.
- despite his taller stature, there was something about him that felt so comforting.
- if a child had walked up to him all alone, sobbing with snot down their nose, he didn’t hesitate to kneel and help them find their parent.
- soothing them, grabbing their hand and asking questions to calm them down.
- no, it wasn’t a daily occurrence but it’s definitely happened to him a couple times. and each and every time he was able to help them relax, and easily reunited them with whomever their guardian was.
- he’s good with kids. always has been.
- he probably even had a babysitting job every now and then when he was younger.
- there’s was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to have his own when he grew up. and when you just so happened to stumble into his life, marrying him with the same ideals…well.
- you obviously knew he wanted kids before you got married.
- and when you realized you wanted him to be the father of your child; was another one of those instances where you got to see just how good he was with them.
- hearing how sweet he’s always been to vincent during his doctor visits, especially when the boy was younger.
- he’s a girl dad. say what you will, but he is.
- he’ll sit at the unbelievably tiny table, cramped in the tiny chair with his knees up to his chest while he tips back the empty teacup and his pinky in the air.
- he’ll even wear the tiara.
- zero complaints.
- you and his daughter would literally be the most important things in the entire world to him. he’d do anything for you two.
- like…ugh. oh my god.
- sometimes you’d come home late, and you’d walk down the hall to hear his gentle voice animatedly in your daughters dark bedroom.
- and you’d peek in, and there he was sitting at the end of her bed, quietly reading while she sleepily listens all tucked in.
- or even times when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, confused.
- so you’d walk out to go find him, having no clue where the hell he was so you check your daughters bedroom,
- and well, there he is. long ass limbs tucked and haphazardly strewn about to make room for your daughter who lays next to him sleeping peacefully in her toddler bed.
- he’s not asleep (obviously), but he lays with his eyes closed until you gently creak the floorboard.
- “she had a nightmare.” is all he says, and it’s enough to make you smile.
- even though he’s already so health conscious…it only grows after you have a child.
- “did you brush your teeth? make sure to get the gums.” “a balanced breakfast is the perfect way to start the day!” he sounds like a elementary classroom poster.
- the minute someone in the house sniffles…he’s checking everyone’s temperature.
- during the winter, he’s at the door wrapping your daughter in multiple puffy coats, scarves, earmuffs, gloves, before letting her step outside.
- you’re not off the hook either, but you never bundle up the way he wishes you would.
- “why doesn’t mommy have to wear this?” she pouts while he’s helping her in her thick boots.
- “why don’t you ask her that?😊” (he’s instigating.)
- i’m telling you, girl dad.
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sam.
- his own kids weren’t on his radar when you guys first started dating.
- but he’s always liked them. especially when vincent was born.
- he was that lowkey irresponsible but very responsible older brother.
- like, he’d be in his teens telling his very impressionable younger brother to say bad words and then would act shocked when he got in trouble for saying them.
- but when it came to being the oldest man in the house while their dad was away, he really showed maturity in helping jodi and being there for them.
- and while you both established a committed relationship, that one day you’d want to be married and have kids—he idealized it a bit more.
- but then again, it was still one of those things you both needed to really think and talk about before you even acted on it, especially since you got married young.
- lol i feel like jodi or marnie forced u guys to watch jas and vincent for a weekend once.
- and after how well it went, that was kinda when it clicked that you guys were ready.
- he’s both a girl dad and a boy dad.
- he’d literally jump for joy for either outcomes. he was just excited to finally be a dad after years of daydreaming of it.
- as much as i don’t wanna say it, i still feel like he’d be much better at the fun stuff then the parenting stuff.
- i just think it’s bc he thinks with his heart more then his head, and when his child is sad and pouting, he’s too sympathetic to hold his ground.
- he wouldn’t leave it all for you to do, but he’d definitely be worse at scolding if you aren’t by his side.
- like, she colored all over the walls or something. his initial reaction would be to freak out and find a way to clean it before you’d find out (he doesn’t wanna add more work to your busy day), but then he’d scold.
- “no, don’t do that. wall, bad. paper, good. understand? nod if you understand,” …well he’s trying.
- then you’d come home to see him scrubbing the walls while your child blissfully doodles in her coloring book on the floor beside him.
- if he had a son, he’d have a little bit of practice from those few years where he babysat vince.
- lol, there’s a lot of features your son would inherit between the two of you.
- but personality wise…your son is definitely a mini-sam.
- and imagine one day, it’s the early stages of spring so sam’s typical allergies start to act up.
- you’ve always known how to handle him when he gets really sick. but picture your red-nosed, leaky-eyed husband standing behind you while you rummage through the medicine cabinet,
- and all of a sudden you hear a familiar sniffle from down the hall.
- you just freeze, slowly turning to face sam who’s making the same face that you are. until he starts to laugh.
- yeah. so now here you are, both of your boys snuggled in bed with the same sickly look, mumbling about how grateful they are that you’re there to care for them.
- and here’s the thing. if your son is sam’s mini-me…then i can assure you you’re stuck with two of the clingiest boys by your side.
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shane.
- he never really thought he’d get a loving, happy family of his own.
- but he definitely daydreamed of it in times when he really just wanted an escape.
- he was always the best with jas.
- he doesn’t necessarily treat her like his daughter. but it’s not like she gives him any reason to.
- he doesn’t treat her like a child, per say. just kind of like another person. probably bc of their trauma bond lol
- he cares for her like an older brother cares for his little sister.
- so even though he has jas in his life, someone he cares for so strongly, he still doesn’t think of himself as being a good father.
- when he met you though, and you were so reassuring and sweet, that thought definitely changed.
- it went from him seeing a life alone, to pondering a family of his own.
- when he finally had the motivation to clean himself up, it approached a couple years since he’s been sober and it was definitely in the forefront of his mind to start a family with you.
- i also think of him as a girl dad. i can’t picture him as a boy dad at all not even gonna lie 😭
- like he’d be the kind of dad that would dress as the supporting character in your daughter’s favorite movie for halloween (spirits eve wtvr)
- also the kind of dad that’d join in on tea parties as well, just with the most plain look on his face despite him not minding being there.
- also…let me tell you there would be a whole inside joke swear jar thing in ur house.
- when your daughter was old enough to decipher what words were “good” and “bad,” the swear jar became very important.
- i think it started when you were pregnant.
- “ah fuck, i think i cooked this wrong. damnit.” he’d mumble.
- “we should probably stop saying those before the baby comes.” you hum, and he looks at you all confused.
- “saying what?” bc they’re in his daily vocabulary to the point where he forgets they’re “inappropriate.”
- so there came the swear jar. and every now and then it’d be a little inside joke when he swore, you’d look at him like, “drop a dollar in the jar😁”
- and when you’d say one, he was so petty matching your exact tone and smile.
- your daughter just grew up with it. it became an even bigger inside joke when you were all sitting at the kitchen table one night, he leans in to take a bite of food and, “shit! that’s hot.”
- before you even said anything your daughter smiles exactly like you would, “that’s a dollar in the swear jar, daddy.”
- ur both STUNNED. and also very proud in a sense.
- you just burst out laughing while he tries to think of a counter, but really, he’s too amused to even say anything back (thus drops a dollar in the jar!)
- 😓😓he’d be the sweetest when it came to his daughter all sad about something.
- no matter what it was. even if she as much as scrapes her knee, he would be so affectionate.
- he’s not the “walk it off” kind of dad.
- if she came to him sobbing, he’d immediately calm her down by picking her up and propping her on the couch, searching for the stuff you use for wounds in the cabinets.
- “it’s okay, you’re okay. it was just a little scrape, you won’t even feel it tomorrow.”
- and he’s wiping her tears, pressing a kiss to her forehead before going into the freezer and getting her ice cream (before dinner😨) saying, “don’t tell mommy, okay?”
- although you try finish up work early enough to tuck your daughter in bed, sometimes you end up running late.
- so uh…shane sometimes forgets to put her to bed, and of course she’s not gonna say anything!!! bedtime is a child’s worst nightmare!
- and usually when that happens, you’d end up coming home to the sight of the two of them, knocked out sharing the same blanket on the couch, cuddled up together while the tv’s still on.
- and when that happens, well, you find it a little hard to take that sight away.
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sebastian.
- girl dad. sorry i just had to start with it.
- maybe i could see him with a son, but honestly…no i can’t.
- but i’m not gonna lie to you,
- for a while i feel like he didn’t want kids. not really at least.
- he’d think about them and it was always a nice idea, until he really thought about it and all the mess that babies come with lol.
- plus at the point in his life when you two met, he just wasn’t ready. for a while at least.
- when you talked about it, the topic of children was only on the table. you knew you wanted them, just not yet.
- it took a good handful of years before you actively started trying.
- even though he was prepared during your pregnancy, i feel like it didn’t hit him he was a father until after ur baby was born.
- he fell in love. swear.
- like…that tiny, wrinkly little lump was his. he helped make that. and not only was it his but it was also the woman he loves’.
- it took him a while to get into the system of it all when it came to caring for the baby. i’m talking changing diapers, feeding, burping, things like that.
- but when he was left alone with her, he was kinda in his own little world. he could hold her all day and never get tired.
- and that was a concept so crazy to him bc he didn’t get that kind of love from a father growing up.
- which is exactly why i feel like he’d actually be such a great dad.
- he could be stern when he needed to be, but never strict.
- “eat your greens,” kinda dad LMAO. especially if you were the one to make them.
- when she’d come up to him with the messiest doodle of your little family on a piece of paper, he’d think of it as a masterpiece.
- he’s not very expressive tho LOL like he’d look at the drawing and only smile, a little “thank you,” in a sweet tone.
- that’s just how he is lol. on the inside he’s sobbing.
- it would always end up on the fridge.
- he spends a lot of time at home.
- which results in a lot of time he spends with your daughter, even while he’s doing his own thing on his computer working.
- but nearly every day he was greeted with a, “daddy, can we go somewhere? what’s mommy doing?” and depending on where you were, he’d help get her shoes on and take her out on a walk to go find you.
- she got her outdoorsy side from you, that’s for sure. but because she needs a guardian, he’s gotten much more used to being outside.
- it was often you’d be working on your crops outside, wiping sweat from your forehead & turn around to your daughter eagerly wanting to help.
- now, this is not to say that your relationship w sebastian was poor before you had your daughter, i’m not saying that at all,
- but because of her adventurous personality, and clinginess to the both of you—your bond grew even more.
- “she wanted to see you.” he’d sheepishly smile, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead while you both turn and watch her feed the chickens.
- “didn’t you have that website to finish?”
- “…okay i wanted to see you too.”
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alex.
- absolutely wanted a family. holy shit there’s zero doubt in my mind.
- he’s kinda wanted a more traditional household, probably based on the ideals he grew up with.
- but he absolutely didn’t mind you being the breadwinner. he honestly enjoyed it much more.
- he’d spend hours daydreaming about living on the farm with you. carrying one child on his shoulders and holding the other’s hand while guiding them around the town’s fair.
- and lowkey, i feel like one of his favorite topics of conversation was discussing how your children would be raised lol
- talking in bed at night like, “i think our son would be a gridball fan. maybe even grow up to be a player himself.” while he sighs longingly.
- which also ties into me believe he’s a boy dad. you know he is.
- i definitely feel like he’d have a boy and a girl. it’s his dream.
- he’d be fine with two boys or two girls but when he daydreamed about his future, it was always you, your son & your daughter.
- it’s just once again the traditional picture of a household and even though i don’t really think he’s that old fashioned after he met you, i still believe he’d want 2 kids.
- he would seriously daydream it all the time. the months of your pregnancy, when you found out it was a boy he really saw his future fitting like a puzzle piece.
- after a couple years, your son (who may i add was literally his mini-me) got a bit older, you both discussed it was time for another.
- and when you found out it was a girl…god. i definitely think he cried, disagree all you want.
- he’s such a caring dad. i believe he wants the best for his children, and he knows what it was like to be neglected so i can never imagine him being like that.
- first of all, you already know every single day of the summer he’s bringing them down to the beach.
- packing a bag, (that takes him halfway through the day before he realized he forgot towels) propping up beach chairs & an umbrella for shade.
- he’s never opposed to a good sand castle. especially when he remembers to bring the little molds that help with the foundation.
- kneels in the shallow end, standing close to his kids when they want to swim.
- and he’s always a fan of recapping it with you at the end of the day.
- “tell mommy what you found at the beach,” he ushers, bouncing your daughter on his hip while your son eagerly begins.
- i feel like after having children, not only is he a good dad, but he becomes an even better husband to you.
- he just loves how hard you work for him and your family, so you can bet on mother’s day, or your birthday, he’ll be all about making it special for you.
- all of them wake up earlier then you, making breakfast (well, watching him make breakfast) before they put it all on a plate and deliver it to you in bed.
- ur the kind of parents that other parents are jealous of, y’know?
- he’s just so in love with you, and the kids you made. it makes him love you even more.
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elliott.
- he’s always wanted kids. he would find himself daydreaming, even when he was in his early twenties, about one day raising a child with the person he loves.
- when he met you was the start of his writing career.
- at that point, it was a little underwhelming, which was the perfect opportunity to get start a relationship with you.
- you were both fairly busy, but the thing about his job was he could lounge in your cottage while you were off working,
- and when you were able to spare a few minutes, you could stop in and see him.
- while your relationship progressed, you began the discussion of getting married and having children one day.
- it just so happened to be right when his career was taking off when you finally settled into your lives together.
- which postponed trying for a little while, but eventually you were able to.
- lol, i’m gonna say it;
- without a DOUBT a girl dad.
- oh my god he would daydream of having a little you running around, tuft red hair with your sweet smile.
- and with how melodramatic he is, imagine that projected onto your daughter LMAO.
- if you couldn’t find him in his typical writing room sometimes, all u had to do was walk to your daughters room where he propped up his own little desk.
- just so he could be near her.
- he also is just entranced at all times, he loves holding her, just looking at her.
- he’s extremely helpful.
- for the most part, he was always immediate to react if your newborn needed something. the second she’s cry, he was up on his feet telling you to stay put.
- he’s just very understanding with how busy you are, and he never minded spending more time with his daughter.
- if it was the middle of the night, and she needed something, he’d always shake his head to you pushing off your blankets, whispering, “i got it, my love. go back to sleep, i’m sure she’s fine.”
- especially on days where he knows you’re particularly stressed, he’s not letting you lift a finger.
- anyways, it carried on when your daughter got older, too.
- she’d walk in all, “mommy, i threw up,” & he was on his feet to help before you even registered what happened.
- he’s just always been fantastic help.
- one of his favorite things to do is read to her.
- similar to harvey, except ten times more.
- he’s acting out each part, using different voices for different characters, making a grand show of it all just to hear his daughter giggle.
- it’s become a habit every night, and since you’re typically busy most evenings, it’s often you’ll come in to find him mid-storytelling.
- even if you intend on reading to her, you always end up stopping to let him finish. he’s so entertaining with it that even you’re interested in this plot line for 2 year olds.
- he’ll never skip this routine.
- and when he kisses her goodnight, he tucks her in, pushes her hair from her forehead and bends down to plant a soft kiss.
- “goodnight, sweetheart. sweet dreams.” he always says.
- he’s gentle with you, he’s even gentler with her.
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konuxkii · 2 months
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I lowkey keep forgetting that Ran canonically sleeps FOREVER so I was sitting here and I'm like. HOW WOULD YOU EVEN GET TO SPEND TIME WITH THIS GUY IF YOU TWO WERE TOGETHER.. Because it's like, imagine texting him throughout the day and you aren't getting a response for like. HOURS. so you thought you did smth wrong or just, he was ignoring you and then at fucking 7pm he responds like "Sorry baby I was taking a nap" A NAP??? WDYM A NAP?? You get mad at him for making you worry but you cant stay that way at him forever because you love him too much,,, (me too) But then he makes up for it by treating you with nice things and taking you out<3 and eventually you get used to his odd habit of sleeping all day long Though if he pulls another one of those days where he sleeps for a full 24 hours you might just have to scold him for a while
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@konuxkii 2024
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naeviskz · 7 months
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genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship
words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread
this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.
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“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.
you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.
hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.
“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”
“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.
he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.
“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.
“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.
how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.
the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.
so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.
“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.
no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.
hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”
* :.・゚゚・ ✿
“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.
the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.
you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.
“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.
a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.
just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.
“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”
your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.
once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.
“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”
“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.
maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?
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- 完 ♡︎
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