#I... have no excuse for going overboard like I did

[reginrokkr]

» @maquiscursed asked [ AWAY ]: the sender, using their fingertips, tenderly sweeps a few strands of hair out of the receiver’s face so as to see them more clearly. (from neuvi to dain bc i'm drowning in thesis for a couple more hours BUT the long haired dain you sent me still lives rent free in my mind)

It is said that when one predict themselves to be in a vulnerable state in the foreseeable future, they will choose any place that could mildly do its job at providing them protection until they are back to health. While this statement may work for Dáinsleif at times, self-awareness of the circumstances that follow him— seek him to bring him down to his knees and submit. Reason why under special needs he must take special precautions.

Reason why he chose the depths of Érinnyes Forest as his place of momentary repose, just enough to let the deluge come to pass and all the people be brought to safety. Whenever Twilight treads these grounds, a sense of nostalgia and melancholy fills his chest, pleading him for warm home's respite. For someone like him that long ago has lost his home, this would be unconceivable, a result of delirium that comes from centuries of activity without ever stopping once to consider his own necessities. Not because he lacks them— he, as any other creature of celestial origins or otherwise, harbors his own yearnings.

Then why, one might ask, his soul and the word home combined tug at his heartstrings whenever he walks nearby this area? It is because none other than the willow amidst the lake deeper within the forest. Although different than the Axis Mundi that had compassion for his shattering soul, its Bough Keeper can recognize any manifestations of it on the overworld even when distance is so bold to stay between them.

Vulnerable and exposed as he is did the lunarescent seraph make his way to the top of the rock that serves as a base to the seemingly floating tree and sits there. Like a mother would to her child, leaves of blue react in providing soothing warmth through azure glow, branches extend even farther down near the grass as if to conceal him, lakelight lilies emit luminescent motes to further hide him in a protective maze only for select chosen ones with sufficient authority and recognition of a benevolent soul to be allowed pass to the now fleeting core of the tree.

And yet, even with this kind protection the Bough Keeper isn't entirely safe: for there are those who would gnaw at its roots just to have a way towards him. Like moths that rather than being attracted to light to bask in it, seek to destroy it so it won't bring more harm to them than it already had. I am sorry. One last thought crosses luminary's mind before he enters into a slumber, guilt forming within him as sentience of this tree's beginning of pain registers in his mind— and a promise to soothe its pain soon.

Look at you, all pitiful and weak for falling for that old dragon's enchantment. As it is customary, that nagging voice that would cause terrors to anyone unaccustomed to otherworldly presence connected to their soul returns with the coming of a tide of darkness when Ley Lines are disrupted, and thus the protection She grants to him against the advancement of the corruption dwindles. Once again you would act against your heart's desires. Do you not think you deserve better than to be used as a tool for saving someone else when you need saving the most?

I thought you would know better by now, after centuries of sowing torment within me— that I deserve nothing. Abyss' chaos is tempting, intoxicating as many who have fallen to its will would describe it. It knows what to whisper in one's ear, to beckon them to do the final jump into a pit of desolation and never ending darkness impossible to escape from once within. If there is one good thing unending guilt and endless self-loathing has, is that he cannot fall as easily to desires tainted with defilement.

And yet you would fall for his affections and sweetened words professing love for you. Isn't you who believes that love should heal, not hurt? Then, why would he seek to harm you at the expense of his selfish desire to put those sinners before you?

Fair eyebrows react, knitting in a frown. Coexisting with a man's will brings consequences such as baring his heart to him without intending to do so. This— this is the most dangerous of all in being too weak to repress his voice and presence. That he knows him all too well, even past his own fronts of negativity towards himself. No matter how many layers would call for an irremediable cause, he would know that deep down... his heart still longs for someone to be with him. Someone that filled with awareness of his own circumstances and self-imposed duties won't run away. Someone to share burdens with... someone to spark a light in this dark world of his.

Intimidating draconic pupils quiver within iridescent depths in the face of an adversity that has an immediate fix, and even then he would be afflicted with struggle at the knowledge of what this will cause to him. The frown in his eye combined with a tremble of lips, unmistakeable. ◜I know it must be done... but has there not been enough suffering, without me having to drag you into the storm?◞

He will never forget the shock that caused his words, immensely touching as the vastness of the seas he possesses authority over— so in line with a heart of gold filled with compassion for someone no bigger than a sinner or an archenemy if one were to think about the endless strife betwixt their kin. Nor he will ever forget the tenderness of his touch, an anticipated balm to his soul for the incoming pain he would come to experience.

◜I will find you when the storm in here and in the Ley Lines has passed.◞

For being someone full of confidence in being well-versed in my heart's grievances and desires, you have lost sight of the most important of all. Yes, I am a firm believer that love should not bring pain and yes, my longing to encounter someone meant for me isn't any less existent. However... his fight is my fight. It is in proving that humanity will rise against the divine injustice and an even more unfair order over this world that gives me strength to continue, that there is hope to defy this world and re-weave all threads of fate... This pain is but a small price to pay for everything grand that this world will achieve.

A spark of light makes itself manifest in the boundless darkness within his mind and so the voice fades to nothingness. Sensing the presence of another when he should be alone, albescent lashes flutter open in time to see Neuvillette's face close to his, his fingers gentle and loving to sweep away pale strands of hair. Exhaustion borne eyes crinkle at the edges in a smile that one day may remember its way to roseate lips, weary heart light all of a sudden as if a great weight has been lifted.

◜You came.◞ Though nonexistent of a command, luminescent branches retreat to their initial position as if by one, deeming their protection no longer necessary. Gloved hands reach out to cup his beloved's face tenderly just as he did before they had to part ways moments prior to the deluge. He is here. He kept his promise. Glacial sapphires soften as he brings his face closer to press their foreheads together, to feel his breathing as the ultimate proof that no amount of illusions born from the darkness of his heart could fake this. ◜Worry not. I am alright.◞ Alright wouldn't be precisely the best descriptor to explain his current condition, granted that he had an uncomfortable conversation with an unwelcome presence in his mind and this was filled with even more unpleasant thoughts whose magnitude doesn't match with unavoidable sentiments— for even if he may think that what that man said doesn't reflect his own thoughts, the Abyss never draws something out of thin air. It is born, without a doubt, from preexistent feelings of his heart mixed with darkness he's shrouded in about his person.

A soft sigh is released after calming himself in the soothing presence of the sovereign, then a gentle nod follows as his hands withdraw and drop to the grass to help himself stand. ◜It is not over yet.◞ Weakened as he may currently be, he extends a hand to help Neuvillette stand too— in the back of his mind, cruel laughter resonates coupled with a forced reminder that he, too, needs saving. But it doesn't have to be now, nor it is like it will never come— no. Long ago has it made itself present in his soul... the moment he chose him. ◜There is one more thing to do. The willow... it is weeping.◞

Thank you for protecting me. Now, allow me to return the favor and alleviate your pain.

[hcdragonwrites]

A Tiger on the Mountain (a @semisolidmind Fanfic)

Here it is ! Another one. I made up a creature specifically so I could play out a scenario in my head and lead into another fic after this one. This is not a two parter but it leaves it open for a follow up!

TW: Blood and Violence and allusions to torture at the end. (Not of Peaches SHES fine)

“Get out before you become a new rug for me to wipe my feet upon.” Sun Wukong snarled over the table, his staff in his hands. The Nine Tiger Demon took a step backward at the fury. The expedition to this kingdom of monkeys and flowers had been a fools mission. Zari, The Nine Tiger Demon- Lord of the Eastern Waste and Terror of the Snowy Steppes, dipped his head cordially.

“As you wish, my Lord.” The tiger smiled and stepped out of the council room, his great black cape swirling as he exited in a flourish. He had made a jab at the Monkey Kings pride by calling him Lord. He knew that his patience was wearing thin with him. Especially after he had eluded to the weakness of mortal Ally’s.

“It is necessary to procure some of the goods they produce.” Wukong had waved the complaint aside. As if waving a fly. Zari was a lord of a snowy country where resources were few and blood was spilt as common as the snowfall. His kind had been hunted by poachers for their pelts. For the magic quality in their stripped bodies. Bones, blood, tendons, fur, claws… Everything in a tigers body was hunted for medicine, magic and mayhem. To hear that the most feared creature west of his kingdom, the great demonic Monkey King who had challenged Heaven, had made treaties with humans…

Zari had licked his muzzle sensing weakness.

“Why treat when you can take?” The tiger lord had questioned. His attendants beside him fidgeted, their hands straying to the scimitars belted to their sides. A twitch of his tail tip called them off. A tiger was playing with a monkey to see what sort of prey it had between his claws.

“And cause further disharmony around me ? Mortal men are easily placated. It leaves me free to put my resources into more important things.” Here the monkey leaned forward, eyes glowing with the torchlight. “Like seeking new territories in the east.”

The threat was received but Zari didn’t rise to the bait. He was a patient creature. The scars on his stripped hands and body proved how many battles and hunters he had outwitted.

Of course Zari had only come to sieze up the competition in the West. He never had any intentions of swearing allegiance to the ape. To debase himself to an ape? Never. So it only took Wukong a few more verbal jousts to also know the game was at an end. He had dismissed the tiger with a threat. Zari kept his claws velveted. For now.

As he stepped out of the corridor he let the slightest bit of agitation show in his whiskered face. A twitch of a tail brought one of his attendants forward.

“Gather the lower Claw.” Zari whispered. “They need a good hunt.”

“Of course my King.” The lesser demon bowed and raced off, light as a feather in the wind. At least that would humble the foolish ape—

Zari came around the corner and bumped straight into something soft, and pliable. His claws caught it reflexively before the thing fell completely onto his black armor and ruined his perfect complexion. He hissed, about to snap at this new weaker underling of a foolish king when the scent hit the top of his mouth.

Human.

“I’m so sorry!” It was female. The women pulled from the tiger claws. Her eyes remained cast down. Simple peasant clothes. Hair tied up in a messy updo. Flushed cheeks, good proportions. The tigers eyes had been blown wide.

“Are you alright miss?” Zira smoothed the twitching of his whiskers, kept the lashing of his tail to a minimum. But his instincts roared and his mouth pooled. “I did not mean to bump into so harshly.”

A captured peasant girl? A pet of this monkey kings?

“Oh no it was my fault!” The women said. She finally looked up and the tiger demon got a good look at the curve of her throat. The hot pulse just inches from his fangs.

From further down the corridor someone called “PEACHES!” The girl stiffened a bit then smiled sheepishly.

Zira felt as if he was a wolf in the sheep pen.

“I should have been watching where I was going. Carry on!” She bowed and then quickly scuttled off.

“Well well well…”Zira smiled to himself as another monkey ran past and after the fleeing women. He felt his grin widen, the drool threatening to slip. “Look like I have some entertainment myself…”

For Zari, The Nine Tiger Demon- Lord of the Eastern Waste and Terror of the Snowy Steppes, was whispered and feared by mortals across his snowy slice of the world. Legends told of how he would slip in as silent as a ghost. How he would visit families and paint their walls in red crimson and spattered gore. For Zari was a man eater, a enjoyer of mortal flesh. And his favorite prey that he enjoyed devouring most was women.

This conquest just got a bit more interesting.

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

“I Demand compensation.”

The threat would have come off more terrifying from the Monkey King if he had been dressed in his armor. However he was… not. Instead Wukong was at the present moment, begging on Peaches lap beneath a cherry tree. His face was a storm cloud as he lifted Peaches hands up to his head.

“I am afraid you won’t be getting any.” Peaches let her hand fall limply off. The stormy face broke into a beggars crocodile tears.

“PEACHESSSS!”

Macaque would have snickered at his sworn brother begging but he was also not getting any sort of touches from Peaches. He didn’t know why she had decided today of all days to deny both of them.

Why was she withholding scratches from her husbands? Well. For many reasons. For one, one of them startled her awake this morning by swooping her into his arms because he got a little too excited and woke her from her dreams. It also triggered a huge sort of panic because she has had enough of nightmares on being snatched away thank you.

Of course telling the one begging at her knees right now that his over exuberance this morning had been one of the reasons for no pats, would only lead to more exuberance.

A second reason she was including both and not just the one who scooped her ? Well because the day before Macaque thought it would be funny to pop one of his shadows beneath her while she was trying to brush her hair and in the fall the hairbrush - still tucked into her hair- wrenched. It had been painful and she had lost several bits of her own hair in it.

And thirdly? Because these two had, for all intensive purposes of the words, kidnapped her and forced her to live here upon the mountain. Yes she was still bitter about it. No she wouldn’t get over it. At least not today. Too many tricks were tugged and her personal space breached for her to simply let it go. A little bodily autonomy and boundary would be nice. Instead her two lovers would look at her as one would a family cat and go “awwwwwwww!” and scoop her up.

So two very peeved simians sat cross legged staring her down. Wukongs tail was lashing back and forth, his eyes narrowed like a cats. He reached forward and grabbed Peaches hand again. She had learned long ago that giving them the satisfaction of her resistance- how cute! They would say as she practically threw all manner of pellmell closet clutter at them- would only prolong their inevitable smothering of her.

Being impassive was her best weapon.

So she let her hand be limply lifted.

Just as limply it slid off the Monkey Kings head.

“Peaches! Come on!” Wukong groaned. He sounded like a kid begging for sweets. Peaches sniffed. The day was nice at least. She had made her way out of Water Curtain Cave and out onto the mountainside before her attendant could shove and stuff her into royal courtly attire. Not today! Peaches hadn’t wanted to attend court. She hadn’t wanted to be near that council room. Her accidental bump into that demon had been as close as she had gotten. A tiger demon? Now that was something she hadn’t seen yet.

Wukong laid himself over her lap, his face pouting up at her. He looked… adorable. It was almost enough for her to forget about his transgression this morning. It wasn’t enough. She turned her head away.

Only for Macaque to be there. He had somehow snuck up, as was his silent way, and pressed himself to her back. He slipped her into his lap, and Peaches felt a little spark of unease. Macaque was the slower of the two when it came to affection, sneaking it in or trying to tease it from her. Wukong was all action and joyful tugs and play. His was earnest and forward. Macaque was… sly. Teasing. A fox inside the chicken house.

“Sweet peach, come now.” His hands settled around her. His breath tickled the shell of her ear and Peaches fought the blush from rising in her face. Think of rocks and birds. What you will eat tonight. Anything but how his voice and how it feels rumbling against me.

“We just want to have a little comfort.” The dark furred monkey lifted her hand. He entwined his fingers in hers. They were so large. The practically swamped her own. The claws slide along the fingers as he lifted her hand and tugged it into his fur onto his cheek.

“Come on, little plumb.” His smile was as sweet as honey, as soft as downy feathers. If it had been any other day she would have mussed his fur and teased him back. However Macaque made a mistake of touching her hair with a free hand. Reminding Peaches that this little trickster had yanked some of her hair out.

She let her hand remain lax.

“No.”

“Then you leave both of us no choice.”

Macaque leaned back and with a woosh and gasp of air and black- they were back in their room. The pillow pit cushioned their fall, as did Macaque who lay beneath her. Peaches let out an indignant squeak as the demon monkey growled playfully in her ear.

“You have only a few moments before Wukong gets here. Do you want to tell me what’s up?”

“No.” Peaches sniffed. His hand was trailing along her skin, almost walking up her arm.

“Are you mad at him?” Macaque asked.

“Yes”

“Are You mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“Is it … a mad kind of day?”

She didn’t respond.

He tutted and tugged her hands free of where she had shoved them beneath her arms. He placed one against the side of his head, eyes gently closing. He kissed her palm, her wrist, her arm.

“Come on my sweet… just indulge us both..”

“No.”

“Little minx.” The purple eyes flashed along with that sharp toothed smile. Peaches felt her face flush. Macaque leaned in and over her now, his free hand twining in the hair on the back of her neck. The demon was angling her from being the one on top, to sliding her into the pillow pit with the dark haired monkey hovering above. He pulled her up and into him, and Peaches had the startling realization that she was so very very small and he was so very very large all of a sudden.

“What sins do I have to whisper into your ears ? What marks should I leave upon your skin to earn your affection again?” His eyes dipped to her lips. Peaches face felt like it was afire. “Should I sing your praises into your skin with my teeth?”

Oh dear.

And then the moment of tension was broken by a furious orange blur bursting into the room and tackling both of them. Peaches cried out while Macaques face looked deadpan at his sworn brother. The moment of tension, of turning Peaches pink as a lychee fruit, was over.

“MACAQUE! THATS NOT FAIR!” The monkey king was entangled with both of them as he grabbed the other hand and shoved it into his fur. Peaches only held onto them now as they jostled her. “HOW MANY HEADSCRATCHES DID YOU GET?”

“None…” His face was exasperated, his tail twitching at the tip.

“None?” Wukong echoed.

“None!” Macaque slammed his head closer to Wukong. Peaches was perfectly sandwiched between her husbands very bare and very exposed chests as the two brothers bristled at each other. She was loosing her own power of wills because … well. Peaches was only human. She could barely stay mad at one Monkey half dressed. Two half dressed and practically pressed cheek to pec against either side of your face ? It was a marvel her body didn’t burn up on the spot from how much she was blushing.

“Why you shouting at me then?!”

“You spoiled my sport before I could tease some out of her.”

“Oh?” Wukongs eyes shot downward. Peaches looked away, feeling like she got caught watching.

Oh no.

The two demons looked down on her. And Peaches felt like she was in danger. Not a you-will-die-and-be-disemboweled way. More of you-will-be-turned-into-a-second-sun-from-how-much-we-will-tease-you kind of way. They loomed over their mortal wife, ears perked forward and grins becoming sharp and feral.

Another burst through the door however saved Peaches from being turned into a puddle beneath the attentions of her husbands.

“Ugh what is it now?” Macaque sighed.

“My King! We are under attack!”

The two warlords changed from flirting devils to stiff and immovable stones as they stood. Macaques ears swished, forward and back, each set twitching as he confirmed it.

Wukong was across the room, his armor back on his body in a flash. His staff was plucked free from his ear, elongating in a flourish.

“Where?” The Sages voice was a silent rumble.

“Off the south slope- a band of panthers by the look of it.” The sentry’s tail was puffed in fear. Wukong nodded and was off in a flash of fur and fury.

Someone was attacking the mountain? They must be crazy. Insane. Or have a death wish.

Macaque set Peaches firmly in the Pillow pit, eyes somber.

“Love don’t move. Don’t leave this room. Understand ?” His face was pinched in worry bordering on fury. He was trying to maintain his composure for her, to hold back the anger that was threatening to bubble upward. Peaches may think of her boys a lot of way. They were selfish when they wanted her attention. They had taken her away reluctantly from her home. She had been forced to live her for the past decade or so. Her husbands were warlords, murderers and Demons.

They also cared for her a great deal, in a way that no mortal could compare. They clothed her in the finest garb but also gave her the option of comfort. They brought her to the Palace and laid laws down among the fellow demonic ally’s that she was to be respected and treated as an extension of Wukong and Macaques power. They brought her gifts from the outside world when they came back from expeditions, made her foods from the finest ingredients, told her stories of their travels. On nights when the past came back to rear it’s head she could find comfort in one or both of their arms.

And at times like this, she felt thankful that, of all the kidnapping creatures in the world, at least it had been these two.

That didn’t sound like a plus at all.

Macaque was waiting for her response. Peaches shook herself free of the cobwebs, of the past and back into the present. The mountain was under fire. Something was trying to earn the ire of the Monkey King and his People. As a very soft once mortal immortal now, Peaches had no sort of power to defend with or help. She was a liability, at least until she began her own cultivation, on the battlefield. So Peaches nodded.

“Yes.”

It was all Macaque needed. He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered “Good girl.”

And he was gone, falling into shadow.

“Hellooooo?”

Peaches started awake at the voice. Disoriented she disentangled herself from the soft fur and pillows she had been wedged between. She must have fallen asleep some time in the day. The light coming from the windows was a burnished gold, sunset settling on the

“Someone help! Help me please…”

The voice was disjointed, the sound echoing from beyond the closed doors. It set her skin to crawling. Shouldn’t there be guards ? Shouldn’t there be someone outside the doors?

“HELP. SOMEONE HELP!”

The voice sounded like a baby! The shrill high note cut through the last hesitation Peaches had. She opened the door and rushing out into the corridor.

The echos of her footfalls bounced back to her from the stone walls. The cry came again, a baby monkey hooting in distress. It came from around corridors, downs passageways. Peaches raced forward until she had burst out of the cavern and into the dying light of the sun.

The grass swayed in the breeze. The shadows danced across the field, like stripes on a great tigers back.

She felt a shiver go up her spine. Something was terribly wrong. It felt off - the world felt off. The mountain was usually brimming with life and sound. Birds would be calling even at this late hour when day turns to night. The cicadas would be sonorously screaming their complaints to the night air. However…

Everything was still. Not a insect nor a bird called out. There were no generals or other monkeys present on the mountain. Usually sentries were littered about the fields and slopes. There was no one here at this moment.

That’s wrong. Completely wrong…

A faint gurgle, a dying cry of a baby monkey from somewhere just ahead.

“Where are You?” Peaches called. The child sounded in pain- and the sooner she got them inside the cave, the better. “You have to tell me where you are so I can help you.”

“Typical mortals.” The voice came from behind and peaches whipped around. A tiger demon, a creature of immense size and with terrifying teeth, toward behind her. Zira held the languid look of a cat with a full belly, tail swaying in the grass and claws meticulously being groomed. The blood from those long claws was the fresh scarlet of new blood.

“Your kind always come when lured by another— I was wondering if I should do a human baby or a mortal imitation but, seeing as you’ve been collared and tamed by monkeys, I thought that would be the easiest way to lure you out.” The tiger lord grinned. Peaches saw that he was fully armored. The black leather of his body was painted in dark splotches of red.

He’s … killed people. Who has he killed?? Where’s the baby ??

Peaches stepped cautiously back into the grass, heart racing. The tiger lords eyes grew round.

“Are you trying to run?” His voice was practically a pur as he stood straighter. “Please do. The chase will be good for me and clear this monstrous smell of ape blood.”

“What do you want?” Peaches needed to stall. To find a way to keep the beast talking. He liked to talk to full the silence. “Why are you here?”

“Those are boring questions dear morsel. Boring indeed. You mortals think all the same- but at least you taste better then your little brains think.” Zira stepped forward and into Peaches bubble- forcing her backward and further away from the cave. “Why am I Here ? Well to play. It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to play with another demons pet.”

Another slow pace forward. Another hasty retreat from Peaches.

“I can understand. I play rough. It’s hard when you all … scream at the slightest break of bone. At the sudden loss of limb…” the tiger lords body seemed to grow, a secondary face appearing from its left cheek. The new muzzle opened and in horror peaches heard people crying, of mortal women begging for their children. The voices of men pleaded for wives and sons and daughters. Anguished cries, cries of pain. Voices from the past.

Dead voices.

“They never last long.” The tiger smirked, that new face along his left side turning upward as well.

“So when I came to see this terrifying demon lord who has challenged heaven I expected him to have a show of strength. What I didn’t expect was a pet like you.” Those eyes flashed.

“Why? Wukong is the strongest Why—“

“Why did I not expect you?” Zira snorted. “Because demons forget themselves when they stop consuming lesser beasts and start befriending them.”

Peaches looked about her. She wouldn’t be able to make a dash back to the caves. This tiger was driving her further and further from safety. She had been a fool to try and help, a damned fool. The next best thing she could do was to try and stay alive long enough. Long enough for her to call out. Wukong or Macaque would hear her. She had no doubt on that. There was also the willow tree just ten feet behind her. If she could get to it and climb she may be able to stall out this demon.

“Now dear. How would you like to die?” The tiger was closer now as Peaches kept stepping back. She was almost back pedaling, trying to stay out of the range of those claws. Of those red teeth. “I could kill you by fang or claw. Or maybe a sword would be better. But then… where’s the fun in it for me if you die so quickly ?”

Peaches spun on her heel and ran.

“HELP!” Her lungs filled with more air, to shout to the Heavens above. The grasses bent beneath her flight. She had almost made it to the tree, almost got enough air to scream again when something slammed into her shoulder. Bright hot pain bloomed and she fell to the dirt. Her hands reached up and came away with sticky blood.

“Calling for help is useless.” Zira licked the fresh blood clean from his claws, enjoying the taste of terror on his tongue. “My men have them busy against the farthest side of the mountain.”

Peaches rolled, to get up to get away she did not know. Her movement was stopped by a booted heel to her shoulder. The new pain elicited a scream to peak from her lips. It rang eerily off the mountain that was so still. So awfully still.

“The pain will only be temporary.” Zira knelt. The tiger reached down with his clawed hands. He cupped her face as she fought him. He smiled and opened his jaws wide to close over her throat.

The suns last dying ray cast a shadow as black as night over the grassy floor. It pooled beneath the mortal women and then, with a slip and tug, Ziras prey was swallowed by the black. The tiger snarled claws raking the soil in a vain attempt to dig her back out.

“So it was you.”

Zira turned.

There, leaning against his staff was the Monkey King. His clawed hands and golden armor were covered in black blood. Zira felt a worm of unease creep into his calm and cocky smile. Those warriors had been the best of his Claw- the best in the Snowy Steppes. There was no way they had failed—

“Ah King Wukong!” The tiger Lord began. If he could stall him out, lead him into a false sense of security, then that would be better. It would buy him time to get closer, to steal into range and pounce. “So nice to see you agai—-“

The tiger lord didn’t even see the moment. On second the orange monkey was standing before him and the next he felt a blooming pain cut along his secondary face. He roared in confusion as the sight from those eyes was lost in a shower of blood. The tiger had no time to reorient himself however. The neck blow was to one of his hands. Sun Wukong clasped one in hand and with a terrible crunch, shattered all the bones within.

Panic came traipsing up the tigers spine. This was not good. The monkey was moving incredibly fast - too fast- for him to counter. He reached for his Scimitar- the blade of Nine Tigers- to end the fight. This blade could cut mountain in half- it could cleave souls from bodies and leave the flesh whole.

“You come to my mountain…”

The staff slammed into the side of his head, casting several of the tigers teeth from his jaws. He was unbalanced but determined. He just had to grab his sword —

“You attack my home…”

Another blow to his middle sent him slamming into the willow tree. The force of it snapped the bark and collapsed the Willow behind him. Zira felt stars float in his vision, tasted his own blood. He had a hand on his sword now though. He drew the blade, cutting it across the insolent ape that towered over him. Wukongs soul would be cleaved, his body left behind for the flies to lay eggs in. He would be dead. The blade sliced —

And snapped in half.

“You tried to devour my wife…” Fear is not something a tiger experienced often. It raced over his stripes, twitched his crushed whiskers, and made his eyes widen. That had been his wife ? That common little dustmote ? Zira had miscalculated. A pet was one thing. But a wife —

“You took… a mortal… as a wife? Pa—“ Zira tried for bravado, tried to spit into the monkey lords face. The tiger was desperately clinging to what remained of his pride. He had chased a rabbit into a ravine and found wolves.

Zira opened his jaws to cast his last disrespect. Only for the claws of Wukong to cut along his jaw and crush it closed before he could finish.

“I will break every bone in your body before I let you die. You will wish you were dead before I’m done with you.”

The shadows swallowed Peaches and arms wrapped around her but she was still flailing. She grabbed at fur and skin and battered her fists and nails against it.

“Ow - PEACHES - PEACHES ITS ME!” Macaque voice cut over the adrenaline that floated high and fast in her blood. She blinked at him. They were back in their room, back inside Water Curtain Cave. Peaches hand was still curled in a fist, still raised up to beat along her captors face. Only. This wasn’t the tiger anymore. It was Macaque.

“It’s just me.”

“I’m not dead am I?” What stupid words to say but it was the first thing her numb mind could think on.

“What? No.” Macaques face was a sea of worry lines as he gently turned her shoulder to him. The blood was sopping beneath the cloth of her shirt. He gave it a sniff and murmured in soothing tones. Mostly to himself. “But I’m concerned for your shoulder. Let’s get that looked at alright ?”

Peaches nodded. Macaque used his claws to rip free the ruined cloth of the shirt and gain better access to the claw marks.

“It’s an ugly scratch but nothing deep.” She felt his hands, paper soft press along the skin. She hissed at the fiery pain as damaged nerves and sore skin protested. “Peaches you will have to be brave for me and let me stich it closed ok?”

She nodded. Her mind was still processing the events just moments ago. Of tiger teeth flashing to bite her throat. Of claws cutting her skin. Macaque returned to her and tugged her into him. She didn’t protest. Didn’t stop as he pulled her hand up to his face. She twined her fingers into the fur, needing the grounding almost, if not more, then he did. Macaque made soothing chirps and soft noises as he worked, pulling needle through flesh and closing it up.

It was only after a time, when Peaches own fear began to fall away, that he asked her.

“Why did you leave the room Peaches ?”

“I heard … it sounded like one of the babies Mac.” One of the little monkey babies all alone and crying for help. The haunting sound echoing off the stone and always just out of reach. “One of the littles in pain and hurt. I didn’t think. I just … acted.”

“Mmm.” Another stich pressed into her skin and she flinched. “You know this means you will have to have a day guard now yes?”

“Are you putting more restrictions on me after I almost got devoured ?” It was a bad attempt at humor but Peaches tried anyway. Whenever something happened to her - if it was an imagined insult from a courtier, a threat to her life because she tried something new and it didn’t agree with her- the boys would set new limits, new conditions. Macaque scowled at her and she bit her tongue from adding to the humor.

“Precautions. If I hadn’t heard you—“ His voice chocked at the end. Peaches looked back. Macaques ears were all low, dropping like flower petals. For all their faults, for their transgressions in taking her choices from her, they loved her. Peaches could see that love in Macs eyes as he imagined the possible outcomes that could have happened. She twirled her fingers around s patch of his fur, soothing him and herself with the confirmation that this was the reality now and not those flashing teeth.

“We can’t loose you Love. I — we — we were so afraid.” When Macaque had heard the strangled help in the heat of battle he had stopped. He had felt his heart give a lurch and Wukong had been of like mind. That battle was practically won. Between the two sworn brothers, nothing much could stand in their fury. But hearing Peaches— Peaches who they left back safe in their room, in the palace, calling for help—

“I was too.”

“When I tell you to stay inside - stay inside. Understand?”Anger laced Macaques words as he pinned her with a look.

“Yes.” It wasn’t good enough though. Not for him. It wouldn’t be for Wukong. The next time the mountain was under attack—if there was a next time— Macaque would lock the doors and the windows. He would shudder the room in shadow if he had to. But. A yes for now was the best he would get from her.

“Good. That’s all the chewing out I’ll give you because when Wukong gets here he’s going to have some very harsh words with you.” Peaches shoulders flinched a little.

“He’s mad at me?” There was genuine hurt and dismay in her voice. Wukong and Peaches had the toughest days when it came to their relationship. Some days she could forget he had taken her without her consent from all she knew- had wiped her village clear off the map. Other days she only saw the blood soaked Warlord in all his fury. On those days arguments ensued and the kings mood was ever sour.

“Never mad at You.” Macaque reassured. Wukong never was genuinely upset at their peach. How could he be when he was enamored with her so? Macaque couldn’t even keep his own anger at her negligence of self after todays events. All she had to do was look at him with that puppy dog look and he was wanting to tease and soothe her into smiles and comfort. “Never. Afraid for your life ? Absolutely. He has half a mind to keep you indoors from now on.”

“He said that ?”

“As we were racing to come get you yes.” Macaque finished the stitches with a pull and tug. The cord came free in his claws. He set about binding cotton gauze around the area to protect the stitches. In the morning he would let them breathe.

“But I think if you let him coddle you for a few days and you agree to a guard, he won’t take your outside privileges away.” Macaque teased and gave advice. Wukong could get a bit … territorial when it came to their Peach. He understood how important it was to give some sort of semblance of freedom to her. Peaches was like a flower- she needed light and air to thrive. If Wukong took that away, he wouldn’t like how she would wilt. Even though Macaque himself had half a mind to keep her inside forever. Especially after today.

Peaches head brushed beneath his chin suddenly and the monkey was jarred from his thoughts. She was nodding off, fighting sleep. Macaque gathered her up easily and set her into the bed they shared. He took care to arrange the pillows, to settle her into her most favorite blankets and soft things. It was a distraction from the rage that now was bubbling upward. For though Macaque had the calmest demeanor- he was just as bloody and furious as his brotherly counterpart.

“Go to sleep.” He commanded. Peaches yawned, catching the trailing end of his tail.

“You won’t leave me … will you?”

“I will be right here till Wukong gets back.”

It was hours later when Macaque heard his brother step into their rooms. Wukong had bathed and cleaned himself elsewhere from the smell of the water and floral oils coming off of him. They both knew how Peaches had an aversion to the scent of blood. The monkey king was across the room and hovering over the pillow pit where she slept.

“How is she?” Wukong asked. All the rage had gone from him. Only worry remained. His tiny little wife… he could still see the Tiger hovering above her, his jaws parted wide over her throat to devour. It made Wukong wish to break his muzzle again.

“Worn out. The cuts are superficial at best. I stitched them up.” The sheen of white medical gauze and cotton took over one lovely shoulder of Peaches back. Wukong felt his teeth beginning to grit in a threatening smile.

“Why would she go outside?! Peaches isn’t a fool.”

“And she wasn’t one.” Macaque soothed. He was standing now that Wukong was here, making his way to the door slowly. “She went outside because she heard the bastard imitate a baby cry.”

“A baby?”

“She thought it was one of the babies.” Wukongs heart gave a shudder. Of course she would throw caution to the wind. His Peaches loved the children of the mountain almost as much as he himself did. “Peaches said she went out to look and that’s when he leapt at her.”

Wukong felt a bit of his anger ebb. He was never angry at Peaches. He could never be. But anger around how she acted ? … yes. That was a possibility. Hearing how she didn’t go out until she thought it was a baby- well. He couldn’t fault her for that.

“The sentries are dead.” Wukong had come across their bodies after restraining the tiger demon. Seeing his peoples cut throats and crumpled bodies had not soothed his anger. He hoped the tiger healed quickly enough so he could repay them for each of his peoples lives. “The tiger killed them. He thought he could kill me by swinging his fancy sword. Too bad it snapped on the first try.”

“Did you leave him alive?” Macaque was at the door now, his fists uncurled.

“He’s somewhere beneath us in a wet cave. I broke all the bones in his body. But … I Left the tail for you.”

“Good.” The door opened and his brother was gone.

Wukong stared at Peaches as she slept for a moment. He had almost lost her today. He half wanted to wake her up and shake her and the other half just wanted to keep her tucked away and safe inside the mountain. Wukong would pull promises and such from her tomorrow. In fact, he may have to teach her some basic self defense. She would never be able to stop a full demonic beast. It would ease his mind however - it would sooth him and settle the fur that kept rising along his back- if she at least had an understanding of what tricks and traits demons used to tempt food out of hiding.

Wukong slid into the nest, settling himself so he didn’t jostle her awake. Tomorrow he could sit her down and tell her the new precautions he would have to merit out. A new guard, lessons in defense, maybe even a copy of him nearby or in the shape of some common item… Wukong could gift her a hairpin each morning and do her hair with a copy of himself. A magical copy that would have ears out for any mischief she may wind up falling into.

It would give her the illusion of freedom without telling her I put a spy on her person. That made Wukong feel better. For the next few days however, she wasn’t leaving his side. He didn’t care if she cried out or pouted or started to throw things. They had almost lost her.

Peaches half woke with a start as Wukong adjusted the blankets about her. Her face came upward, staring and trying to see all about.

“Wukong?”

“It’s just me… you can go back to sleep.”

To his astonishment Peaches shifted, settling herself into his chest. Wukong welcomed her tangle, twining has hands into her hair as she tugged on his fur. Her cheek was pressed to his chest where his heart must be hammering beneath. The Monkey king made soothing chirps and soft calls to her, a reassurance of safety and care. Soon enough her fingers relaxed again as she fell into sleep.

He kissed her temple and nose, twirling his fingers through her hair. It was just as soothing for him as it probably was for her.

Wukong was glad the tiger had been able to survive him. He couldn’t wait to gift his pelt to her when he was finished with him.

If Macaque didn’t kill him after all.

[suddenrundown]

considering faking my death to get out of this project. would still like to get a passing grade for it.

[osachiyo]

EAT IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT ! ✘ 𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢, 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨 & 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — n/sfw content, headcanons + rating, female reader, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, pussy slapping, face-sitting, praise, overstimulation, etc

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i wrote this while being sick, so don't attack me if this has a lot of spelling mistakes and errors.. and i just wanted to write some silly little headcanons so my apologies if this isn't good lol happy reading as always and i hope you enjoy :3 (yes i did remove fedya from this sorry) NOT PROOFREAD

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — bsd men and how they eat the 😼

𝓓𝓪𝔃𝓪𝓲

this man is a MUNCHERRRR. will gladly eat you out any day of the week, any time of the day. he does not care if you're at work — will not hesitate drag you in a storage room of the agency and eat you out there. one time ranpo walked in on dazai giving you the most toe-curling head, and used that as blackmail on you two, demanding he'll keep quiet if you bought him candy for the rest of the week. safe to say that you put a ban on sex at work for a month (spoiler alert: you didn't last).

sit. on. his. face. make a mess on it — drench his face in your juices and he'll thank you. hell, even better if you ride it — he'll cum untouched so fast.

he's skilled in the art of eating pussy — knows all of your weak spots like the back of his hand. don't ask him how many times he's done this — he'll just flash you an innocent looking smile, never actually answering your question.

knows how to make you scream and takes advantage of that — urging you to cum over and over on his silver tongue, saying "just gimme one more, darling," only for it to turn into another, and another until you lose count.

he takes his time when giving you head — tongue tracing your hole all the way up to your clit, savouring the taste of your arousal before he devours you.

KEEPS EYE CONTACT !! works his mouth on your cunt while his big, warm, brown eyes filled with mirth stares at you the entire time, smirking at the beautiful expressions you make — loving how flustered you get from his gaze alone.

likes to use his fingers while eating you out — long digits probing at the rough patch of your g-spot while he sucks on your clit — a deadly combo that has you creaming in his mouth in seconds.

overall a 10/10, knows how to use his tongue and isn't afraid of using it.

𝓒𝓱𝓾𝓾𝔂𝓪

messy eater !! is not afraid of getting filthy, if he's gonna go down on you, might as well do it properly.

he's really into 69 ! not because he gets pleasured as well (though he's definitely not gonna complain about it), it's more of a physiological thing for him. it gets him so impossibly hard when you slobber and struggle to take his cock down your throat just because of the sheer pleasure he's giving you. it's adorable to see, really. also gives him an excuse to shove his cock down your throat himself, groaning something about "him doing all the work," but he wouldn't have it any other way.

as much as he loves pinning you to the bed, holding your hips down while shoving his face between your legs — he'd much rather eat it from the back. what can he say? he loves your ass — spreading it apart to bury his tongue into your hole, occasionally slapping or pinching your cheeks to tease you — it's pure filth.

he knows your limits, of course, but sometimes he can't help but go a little overboard — too lost in the feeling of lapping up your sweetness, circling your clit before dipping his tongue into your hole. it's best not to interrupt him during this — unless you actually want to stop, he's gonna pin you down harder with a low growl before getting back to his meal.

he doesn't use his fingers that often while eating you out — would much rather make you release on his tongue, but wouldn't mind indulging you if you really wanted it. gloved fingers probing at your sweet spot — groaning out praises for being so good for him.

he's a talker !! growling, muttering and even moaning words of encouragement while he eats your pussy — the vibrations of his lust-filled voice making your toes curl and head lull back.

9/10, he's less about technique and more about instinct — and it works.

𝓙𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓸

he's a sadist through and through — very into edging you. likes to hear your heartbeat speed up then suddenly drop when he pulls his face away from your cunt, laughing at your misery like it's the funniest thing in the world. don't get him wrong though — he eventually does let you cum, eventually.

when he's not edging you, he's overstimulating you. sometimes he does it right after edging you, too — didn't you want to cum? he's giving you what you wanted this whole time, you should thank him for it, really.

not afraid of using toys on you during he goes down on you — he loves hearing your desperate whines and and attempts of forcing him away because "it's too much," what nonsense — he thinks, jouno knows your limits, he knows you can take it. now be a good girl for him and let him enjoy his meal.

100% a pussy slapper — he likes hearing you squeal his name, while your neighbors definitely hate you both for that. he's so mean about it too, spreading your pussy lips apart to land a harsh but swift smack on your clit — it has you tearing up and crying out his name so cutely, he can't help but do it again, again and again.

jouno knows exactly which spots make you writhe in pleasure, and he takes advantage of that — relentlessly pounding his fingers into your g-spot while suckling on your clit, it has you seeing stars in mere moments.

did i mention he can make you squirt? he's incredible with his hands and mouth — combine that with the fact that he knows all of your weak spots, it's a killer combination. even if you're not a squirter, he still gives you the best orgasms you've had in your life.

8/10, he knows your limits and knows when to stop — but sometimes he can be a little too… sadistic.

𝓡𝓪𝓷𝓹𝓸

another munch right here — he'll eat you out anytime he wants, and when you want him to, of course !

ranpo gets super whiney while going down on you, his face would be flushed down to his neck — muffled moans of your name escaping his glossy lips, it's an adorable sight.

his glasses would be all fogged up, please take them off for him so they don't get dirty (he'll be whiney after if you don't)

ranpo has 0 experience, might need you to teach him some of the basics at first but he's a quick learner, quickly figures out and memorises which spots make you moan louder and your cunt wetter.

he doesn't care that much about technique, relies on feeling instead.

he doesn't like using his fingers, would rather pleasure you simply with his tongue — but he might cave in if you whined for long enough.

LOVES having you sit on his face — he needs to be drowned in your essence, and what better way to do that than have you ride his face? use him to get off, he might whine and kick his feet at first but he'll give in eventually !

sucks on your clit like it's his favorite candy — at least that's what he tells you. could spend hours and hours between your legs if you'd let him, sucking at licking at your clit before dipping his tongue in your hole, he might like it even better than candy, actually.

7/10, inexperienced but his enthusiasm makes up for it — really messy too.

note — if you don't agree with the ratings then that's fine, they can eat you out however you want them to lol.

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

[froggiewrites]

i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it. 

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best. 

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but–”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  Decorating Sakura’s Room 『 ♡ sakura haruka x reader 』

content // after seeing sakura's empty room for the first time, you're determined to make him feel more at home with a few additions.

note // tumblr decided not to post this yesterday for softie sunday lol so here it is!

Sakura's always deterred you from coming back to his place for your date nights, avoiding the topic altogether by offering to meet up at Pothos or to watch movies at your place instead. For the first month or so of dating, you didn't question it much, but now? It's getting suspicious. What did he have to hide from you?

"C'mon, we always go to my apartment. Why do you never have me over?"

Your demand has Sakura sweating, unable to come up with a logical excuse to keep you away any longer. He knows damn well that you can see right through his lies...and he has a terrible poker face around you.

"Fine, but don't expect much," he mutters, stomping passed you and continuing down the street. When you approach his front door, he takes a deep breath before twisting the handle.

"Do you not lock your door?!" You exclaim, noticing he didn't have a set of keys on him. "Saku, that's dangerous as hell!"

"S'not a big deal," he mumbles before kicking his shoes off into the corner, completely ignoring the shoe rack behind the door. "Don't have anythin' to steal, anyways."

You're confused by his words until you get a decent look at the apartment. It's...bare. Not a single decorative item in sight.

"Did you just move into this place?" you ask, confused. You're slowly making your way back to his bedroom, awestruck by the lack of evidence that anyone lives here.

"Nah, been here since I got to Makochi."

You turn to face him, a sad glint in your eyes before shaking your head. It makes him swallow nervously, the tips of his ears warming by the second. You don't say another word about it for the rest of the day.

A couple days pass until the two of you have plans again. You insist to meet at Sakura's place, and after lots of begging, he begrudgingly agrees. When you finally arrive to his place, you can barely knock on the door with how full your hands are with numerous bags of gifts. He opens the door as your mid-swing with your foot to "knock," immediately overwhelmed by the amount of stuff on your person.

"Th' hell is all this?!" Sakura shouts while attempting to grab a few of the bags from your hands. "Yer like a walkin' target with all this! Get in here already!"

"Sorry, Saku. I couldn't help it."

Sakura places the bags on the floor, slowly peaking through them to investigate just what the hell you've unloaded into his space. There are tons of essential items in neutral tones - a few sets of towels, a bath mat, two pillows and silk cases, a 4 set of plates and bowls, silverware, a pair of black house slippers, a brand new reusable water bottle, a water filter for the fridge, and a picture frame.

"I might've went a little overboard," you say sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I felt bad you didn't have anything to make your home feel like your own. So I got you some things to warm it up, make it feel more permanent and a place you like, not just one you sleep in."

Sakura's speechless - devastated, even. He can't comprehend what he did to deserve your sweetness, biting his lip to keep his emotions caged. His cheeks are ablaze as he picks up the picture frame, noticing the plastic film is missing and there's a familiar set of pictures behind the glass.

"I went ahead and put in the pictures we took at the photo booth from the theater on our first date, you don't need to keep⎯ "

Your silenced by Sakura's lips capturing yours, his shaky hands cradling your face. Your squeak of surprise makes his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispers as you part, moving to wrap you up in a tight hug. "Yer...always so warm, like bein' under the sun on a hot day. I'm still getting used to that feelin', but this helps more than you know."

Your heart swells as you lay your head on his shoulder, absorbing all of his affection in the moment.

"Of course, Sakura. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong."

His grip tightens on your shirt, a shiver running down his spine at your words. One day, he'll be able to tell you how you've made him feel at home for awhile now, and that the material possession are a nonfactor.

You pull back from his hug and pat him on the shoulders. "I'll help you put everything away and whatnot."

The two of you spend the next hour unpacking all of the goodies you've bought, leaving the picture frame for last. Sakura grabs the frame and paces the apartment a few times, pondering where exactly he wants to put it until the perfect spot pops into his mind.

Right above the shoe rack so you can welcome him home every single day with your bright smile.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

[babygirl-riley]

Hii🌸 if u don't mind would u pls write for simon w fem reader who's having a difficult pregnancy??:'( if not that's ok, luv ur stuff btw🩷

In Sickness and Health

Simon’s heart breaks when watching going through your first pregnancy

A/N: Omg i watched my old co worked go through a hard pregnancy. It never looks easy no matter how it is going. I love this idea too ❤️

Warnings: sickness, pregnancy, hard pregnancy, underlining depression, arguments, marriage, soft!simon, husband!simon, dad!simon, fluff, little angst, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

When you found out you were pregnant, it was obvious. No period. Your cravings became intense. You threw up every fucking morning. Simon and you were excited that you were pregnant, people encouraging you that the morning sickness would pass. Instead. It came harder and longer. You cramped all the time, you bled once. Thinking you lost the baby when in fact you didn’t. Doctor reassured that it was normal in some women.

However, both of you didn’t expect the pregnancy to get harder than what people said it would have been. Your mom even said that what you are going through isn’t what she did. You are through your third trimester and nothing changed. Eventually your midwife came to put fluids in you since you couldn’t hold anything in. Throwing up was your new aesthetic. It got harder for you to work so you had to quit your job and stay home. Best friends with your toilet, you slept there day and night until your body grew bigger.

Simon was ordered from Price to stay home until the baby arrived and settled. Price heard from Simon about how the pregnancy has been not the best. You been up all night not being able to sleep from being too hot to throwing up to not being comfortable. Which caused Simon not to sleep, due to being worried about you. He would hold your hair up if you were too tired to even notice it was falling inside the toilet. Simon would wash your hair as you cried. Shushing you to keep you from having a panic attack.

You hated all of what was happening to you where you couldn’t enjoy being pregnant. Counting the days not to see your kid but to have her out. It was like you were hating the fact of everything no that was happening. Feeling like a curse then a miracle. Simon was the opposite even though he was heartbroken to see his love going through only hardship, the thought of having a mini both of you made him warm inside. Bringing it up once had you excited until you would hurl once more.

Simon would bend over backwards for anything you needed. Needed a bath Done. Needed a craving. Done and done again. Needed to be carried to the bed. Done. Needed a belly lift. Done. Anything was possible for Simon if it was for you. Nothing would stop him from helping you.

Was it perfect? Not always. Even when you both were tired and exhausted, you would fight, he would always be right by you. No matter what the fight was about, lately things that were ridiculous.

You both finished a fight and made up as he pet your damp hair, rubbing his other hand on your swollen belly. You were laying on his chest in bed, having your belly rest on the comfort of the mattress.

Sweat consumed you, your body working overboard on making your child and keeping you from not dying from everything else. It was silent before you sobbed. You were done, nothing for you. Your feet hurt. You felt like a whale. And your husband hated you. You’ve been only a bitch since you got pregnant and you were done.

You kept repeating in your head that he truly didn’t want to be here that you were just an excuse of a wife. That he never wanted to help you. That he wished you were gone. All because he didn’t get you your pebble ice. Simon had to leave the house for a while and what did he bring back? The stupid fucking ice. You called him a coward for leaving and not say anything about you said just for him to gift you?

Simon’s heart broke when your son burst out, your body shaking. Concern written on his face as he made your face turn to him. “Love what’s wrong?”

You cried harder as you laid your face in his shirt. “I want her out. And I feel terrible that I don’t want to do this anymore. That I have been a bitch. That I can’t stop throwing up. That this whole pregnancy hasn’t been what people have been saying.” He listened to you rubbing your back in soothing patterns. “I’ve been a terrible wife. I can’t believe I have been awful to you. You only been kind and generous and loving.”

Simon shook his head. “I could never do what you are doin’ dove,” He said quickly as he rubbed your shoulders. “This pregnancy is not been the best for ya.”

You sobbed harder as you clenched your hands into his shirt. Simon started to hush you quietly and soothingly. “You don’t deserve me.”

Simon froze from the comment, he used to say that to you at the beginning of your relationship. Telling you that he is a monster and that he would plague you with his darkness. That you were the angel and he was a demon, instead you showed him that he was the opposite. He was just lost in a broken world of his. Simon knew you were not like this. Not confident. Angry. Negative. No, you were the opposite of all of it.

Simon scooted so he would have you sit up against the frame. “Don’t you say that.” He said sternly.

You scoffed. “It’s true, I called you mean things. I said mean nasty things that are not true. Just over ice? Like how…”

“Stop,” He said stopping you dead in your tracks. “I know you didn’t mean it. Never have you showed me that. Baby,” He watched as your lips trembled, as your skin paled. “I know you love me, you are in pain just like I was. Let me help you bring yourself back as you make our child. You’re almost there love.”

You inhaled deeply as you looked away. “I’m sorry,” You turned to him and placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you Simon.”

Simon smiled and grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I love you too. This is through sickness and health yeah? We promised each other that. So that is what gonna happen.”

You laid back down on him, your heart swelled with joy. You didn’t know how you got such an amazing husband. But all you knew is that he was your soulmate and you were his.

Another month went by and the baby was in distress from your body. She would be a month and half early which could lead into problems. However since your was fighting off too many things it wanted the baby to come out. You laid in the hospital bed as they induced you to push your baby girl out. You cried as Simon held his hand on yours and a cloth against your forehead.

“You got this mama,” The gynecologist announced looking up at you. “She is almost there!”

You looked at Simon concern written on your face and his. “It’s al’ight mamas. ‘M right here.” He whispered soothing you by brushing your damp strands back.

With a couple last pushes you heard a wail. Immediately relief went through your body as you laid all the way down into the bed. You panted as nurses and the doctor tended to the baby. Simon watched back and forth between you and the baby. “Go-Go see her.” You whispered gulping air.

You watched as he gave you a concerned look then nodded. You watched as he looked over the shoulders and smiled. Your heart fluttering. One of the nurses came to look over you. She said something but you couldn’t hear her. You felt nauseous and weak, lightheadedness coming in full swing.

The nurse called out as you felt your eyes roll. After that it was dark, you felt like actual sleep took hold. When you woke up, you were in a different room in the hospital, mouth was dry. When you looked over you saw Simon asleep with your baby girl against his bare chest.

You smiled. “They have been so cute,” You turned your head to see the doctor walking in. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and coughed a bit. “Thirsty.”

“I bet. You had a blood clot form after giving birth to your baby girl. It can be common and could cause from your body being on overdrive to fix you. You are on blood thinners so take it easy. You have a healthy baby girl, she might be a little smaller than usual but that is expected from a early birth,” she explained looking over your vitals. “Your husband knows what to do. Just get to know your baby and rest.”

That you did, Simon once again by both you and both of your baby girl. Never have you felt so much relief and love. You smiled as Simon changed her diaper humming softly to her. In sickness and health. Is all you thought of as he gave you a kiss handing you your baby girl.

[mylovejimimi]

When three is a party, and you're the piñata | TH&JK ONE SHOT

— PAIRING: boyfriend!taehyung x fem!reader x bf'sbestfriend!jungkook — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: teasing, dirty talk, a threesome (duh), vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m receiving/giving), mild ass play, pussy slapping (but like two or so), ass slapping (like three times), LOTS of fluids, LOTS of spit (not apologizing lmao), breast playing, kinda dom!tae and dom!kook, a tiny tiny twinge of mxm, a lil angsty at some point but fluffy at the end, reader is bamboozled lol — SUMMARY: Jungkook disliked you, that's for sure. Then, why is he insinuating he wants to fuck you? And why did your boyfriend simply invited him to your bed to do so (or, better said, do you)? — WORDS: 8k (oopsy) Maybe I went a little overboard with this one lol but i added some plot!!! It came out a lot tamer than I thought tho and I changed some bits but I hope you like it anon!! I enjoyed writing the wild smut lmao Anyways please remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Ever since you met the boys, their own friendship dynamics were as clear as the shots of vodka Jimin made you gulp down on weekends. Sometimes, Jin and Yoongi would go for a drink and complain about their ages and the youngest and things like that; in that same way, Jin would drag Jimin to a wine testing, or Yoongi would be cooped up with Namjoon in the studio, or Hoseok would help the two eldest with choreographies, or the maknaes would go shopping with Hoseok and so on. It was obvious to you that they had a very strong bond and had some kind of symbiotic relationship. But out of all of them, the two youngest seemed to be the more symbiotic of all.

When Hoseok introduced you to the group, you all clicked just as fast as you had clicked with Hoseok before (which was why he thought you should meet his friends). Soon enough, you were one of them, all eight of you inseparable – until Taehyung confessed his feelings for you, and you kind of been crushing hard on him the whole time. So, there began the first relationship in a big group of single men, and so, things had to shift a little to accommodate a couple. You were relieved, though, because the boys had taken it very well and were all happy and rooting for the both of you – well, almost all of them.

You never felt any animosity between you and Jungkook, though you always felt he didn’t like you as much as the rest. He was rather indifferent to you, in your humble opinion. Oh, but once you started dating Taehyung, his bestest friend in life? Just then you understood what real animosity was like: whenever you were around the boys, Jungkook would either talk to you curtly and unfriendly or not acknowledge your presence at all; other times he would just glare at you, making you feel self-conscious, even that one time in summer when you put on a new sundress and everybody complimented you and you felt pretty for once; and he even went as far as excusing himself to escape to the bathroom whenever you sat down next to him. Of course, you attributed this one-sided rivalry to that fantastic decision to fall in love with his best friend and taking him away from him, but you always made sure to never talk to Taehyung about the way Jungkook seemed to hate you, to avoid unnecessary conflicts.

But then one night...

“Y/N” Jimin sang, in his drunken state of being. “Can you be a dear and bring more beer?”

“Why me? You just told Jungkook to do it.” Just as tipsy, your reply sounded whiner than you wanted, but you met Jimin’s gaze with a frown. Then, you looked at Jungkook, completely inhibited when you said: “He told you to do it.”

“I don’t want to. Got a problem with it?” You gaped at the maknae’s answer, but you would not let yourself be ran over by this big brat of a boy.

“Yes, I have a problem with it. Move your fucking ass or I will move it.” The other boys shouted a collective ‘ohhhh’ at the exchange. Okay, maybe you were going a little bit too far with your attitude but you had lost count of how many drinks you downed and that was enough to excuse your attitude. “Get the fucking beers.”

“Come here and make me” he spitted, holding your stare from across the room. And just to provoke you further, he sat comfortably against the sofa, spreading his legs and tilting his chin to you. You felt some kind of way because in any other person, it would be a suggestive invitation. He even put his hand on his crotch! But it was Jungkook, so you didn’t think much of it.

“Oh, you better be sure I will.” However, before you could get up to do God knows what, Yoongi stepped in.

“I will go, you brats” he sighed, getting up from his seat. Your eyes didn’t left Jungkook’s though, and neither did his, even arching his brow to you. You scoffed and looked at your boyfriend beside you.

“Well, thank you Jungkook and Y/N for that interesting exchange. But I wanted to propose a little game to keep up the good spirits” Jimin smiled brightly and devilish directly at you. Your heart dropped a little. Park Jimin usually had the power of making you expose yourself, just because you were hot-headed and argumentative. “Do you all remember that game we played once, where we had to tease each other until one caved in? I mean, now we have a girl, it should be more entertaining.” Oh no. Your boyfriend squeezed your sides.

“I won’t play” you said, crossing your arms. “TaeTae?” But your lover ignored you in favor of smiling at Jimin.

“Why not? Are you afraid, Y/N? Afraid I might steal your man?” Jimin taunted you. He looked at Jungkook, before looking at you again. “Or are you afraid of being teased by Jungkookie?”

“What?!” You were genuinely startled at his insinuation. Another chorus of ‘ohhh’ filled the room. What was going on with these guys? “I’m not. I will play your stupid game.”

“Then, why don’t you sit beside our maknae and start the round?” And Jimin smiled like the Cheshire cat. Why was he so pressing about Jungkook? Was it because you snapped back at him earlier? Because of your general distance towards him? Jimin was sadist enough to laugh at his friends struggling; it could be anything.

You got up to sit near Jungkook, not close enough to be in his personal space, though you were expecting him to glare at you as always. But he didn’t. In fact, he looked at you briefly and gave you a small smile. Was he taunting you too?

“Y/N” Jungkook began, starry eyes shiny with drunken glow on yours, equally shiny and glowing. He moved one of your locks behind your shoulder. “Do you still enjoy getting it from behind like you said once?” The question came in a low, low tone, accompanied by a sleazy smile. He started strong but you didn’t budge.

“I do. Wanna try it? Want me to peg you?” You smiled, tilting your head sweetly. Once more, your public reacted in chorus.

“If I get to put something between those two, then yes.” And he ogled at your breast, causing your nipples to harden just a twinge.

“But could you? Won’t you wet your pants just by talking to a woman?” His eyes darkened and you felt the physical need to bit your lip.

“Leave it to me and the only wet things here would be my tongue and you.” A smirk and a wink but with a completely serious tone – like it was an invitation and a promise. The guys went crazy, laughing and shouting things you didn’t get. If you didn’t know better, your alcohol-induced reasoning would tell you that Jungkook was kinda flirting with you. Why was your boyfriend just laughing about it?

“You sure about that? You always look like you don’t know what is a pussy. Want me to show you one and give you a blowie out of pity?” He scoffed, now getting agitated. You tried to ignore how he flexed his muscles and when he tensed his jaw – but it was near impossible to ignore the way he rearranged his bulge mindlessly.

“I do know, baby.” In his growling voice, the pet name sounded almost menacing… and very exhilarating. Deep down you, you wanted to keep hearing him calling you all sorts of names. “And I’m not your boyfriend. A ‘blowie’ is not enough for what I have here.”

“Yah! Don’t bring me into your dumb beach off” your boyfriend complained with a pout. Running out of ideas, you drank the half glass of whiskey that Yoongi left on the coffee table, expecting to get creative once the alcohol got on your bloodstream. You saw Jungkook mirror you with his beer.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you continued. “I’m actually looking at your boner right now and it is very underwhelming.” Jimin cackled at that, the rest of them giggled. Jungkook had the tip of his ears red.

“Let me shut your mouth with it and see if it is that underwhelming,” and he put his big hand on your knee, squeezing. “babygirl.”

You inhaled deeply, because his hand was not only on you. No no, Jungkook played dirty and started stroking your thigh up and down subtlety. Was it bad? Yes, absolutely, because you felt a tingling between your legs and a confusing desire to be touched. But bad enough to accept defeat? Absolutely no. Instead of caving in, you changed strategies: you smiled your seductive smile, and placed your hand softly on his biceps.

“Is it as big as your arms, Jungkookie? You promise to make me choke on it?” His hand on you faltered. Everybody was silent for some reason. “You promise to make me swallow my words while I swallow it?” Those even weren’t the biggest weapons in your arsenal, and yet it had the effect you wanted: Jungkook stood up and almost ran to the bathroom.

“You think he went to jack off?” Hoseok asked Jin, who nodded.

“Yah!” you yelled at them. “Jimin, your game is shit.” You were in serious need of a drink that wasn’t alcohol-based, so you stood up and went to the kitchen, catching a ‘but it was real fun to me’ from Jimin in your way out.

“Looks like you and Jungkookie are having fun together, uh?” your boyfriend said casually, coming behind you. You scoffed.

“If you can call that fun,” you grunted, taking a sip from a random water bottle you found on the counter. You needed anything that could calm you down. “Whatever, at least he seems to be loosing up. I don’t know, he’s a dumbass but I rather have him talking bullshit than to be shy and silent around me.” Taehyung smirked and looked at you intently, as if he was internally laughing at you because of something you don’t know. And you know your boyfriend. He was definitely laughing internally at you because of something you don’t know. You frowned. “What is it?”

“What is what?” Taehyung replied, smirk intact, while getting close enough to you to put every inch of his front against yours and his hands on your waist. Suddenly, the air shifted, and new tensions began arising between your two bodies. Despite being in someone else’s home, you would be lying if you denied how your boyfriend was turning you on.

“Why are you laughing at my expense?” He did laugh at that, eclipsing your clarity for a moment with that beautiful laughter that you adored since the first time.

“I just love your innocence.” His hands ascended under your shirt from their place on your waist to the underside of your boobs, nearly cupping them, making your breath hitch. You were way too conscious of being in Hoseok’s kitchen, looking at the door while Taehyung touched you almost indecently, but his eyes never strayed from your face. “Look what you did, baby: you made me hard at my friends’ gathering with that silly game and your silly, bratty mouth.” And he thrusted a little, so you would feel his fattened and restrained member on you.

As soon as you opened your mouth to cuss at him for his antics, your boyfriend wasted not even a second to put his mouth and yours, dizzying you with a kiss that you doubted was appropriate to experience in someone else’s kitchen. His mouth was way too enthusiastic, his touch all over your body, and you knew it was not leading to a normal quickie. No, he was properly devouring you whole; sucking at your lips, tongue trying to go deeper inside your cavity, hands moving all the way down to knead your ass. You tried wondering what had him so worked up but your mind couldn’t focus on nothing but his tongue in your mouth, deliciously licking everywhere inside – and you had no choice but to reciprocate with the same intensity. You couldn’t judge your boyfriend, because you were just as worked up yourself. Playing with Jungkook was fun at first but then it became serious. And so did the situation in your panties: the moment he put his strong hand on your knee? You felt yourself getting slightly wet, whole core warming… which you knew was completely fucked up. Shame woke you up when Tae’s fingertips went under your skirt and made contact with your inner thigh.

“Taehyung!” you whisper-shouted once you separated from his face, but his hands stayed firmly on your body. “It’s rude to be doing this here.”

“But, baby…” he whined and moved a calculated inch so you could feel his very rigid bulge on your upper thigh. No, as much as you wanted it, it was not right to do it at your friend’s place. You still had some dignity.

“No, seriously, what if someone walks in and sees us like this?” And of course, the universe wanted its turn to laugh at you, because in that exact moment your words were commands. Jungkook entered the kitchen looking at his phone, immediately lifting his head at your words, watching you in all your glorious just-made-out-hotly, lipstick-stained face, boyfriend’s hands under your clothes. He was paralyzed, you were paralyzed, and Taehyung snorted. Not knowing what to do, you just blurted an “I’ll go to the bathroom”, and flew the scene.

…

On the way back home, once the alcohol’s effects wore out, you couldn’t stop thinking about everything that transpired between you and Jungkook. It was mostly playful, none of it insinuating — not even the touch on your knee. And here you were, twisting it for some sort of unconscious reason. Did you like Jungkook? Did you not love Taehyung anymore? How could you be so disgusting? It was undeniable how your body reacted to the maknae, getting weak with nothing more than a simple touch. What kind of girlfriend that made you? The cheating, slutty one for sure. You felt like crying, guilt eating you up fast.

 “You had been very quiet since the thing in the kitchen, love.” Tae mentioned when you left your shoes at his apartment door. You turned around to look at him absently, and he smiled tenderly to you, caressing your face. “Everything alright? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay, baby, it was not that serious. I’m fine.” You lied. Unable to bear the loving look in your boyfriend’s eyes, you turned on your heels and headed towards his room, ready to hide underneath the covers forever. You were so bad at pretending.

The guilt and growing sadness were bad enough that you skipped your skincare, taking your make up off with a wet towel and going to bed on a shirt that was laying around and panties, instead of your precious silk pajama that matched Taehyung’s. By the time your lover got under the covers, you were on your side at the verge of crying, not wanting to see his face or else you would break down right there.

“My angel,” Tae started whispering on your ear. “I don’t know what’s wrong but just know that you can tell me whenever you’re ready.” You have to tell him, your conscience kept urging you. You had to tell him. It was so wrong and you knew it would break his heart, but all the love you had for him was enough motivation to tell the truth.

You shifted and faced him, your whole heart shrinking at the pure love that was on his face. All that love for you. And you ruined it.

As much as you wanted, no words left your mouth, but it was not needed because Taehyung kissed you, slowly, lovingly. It would be the last time, so you decided to enjoy it. You would miss the way he was nipping at your lower lip, probing it with the tip of his tongue for you to give him access. You would miss the way his hands always go directly to massage your breasts, his favorite habit since that one time you told him they were sensitive. You would miss the way he couldn’t resist you, hating to waste time with too much teasing, being the most efficient and desperate lover you had.

In no time, he threw the covers to the edge of the bed, caging you with his thighs between his warm body and the mattress. His mouth left yours to kiss a wet trail towards your neck, nipping and lapping from the spot under your ear to the point where your neck and shoulder met. You whined, because your neck was pretty sensitive too, and it only served to spur him on. He decided that near the base of your neck was a good place for hickies, so he sucked enthusiastically, kitten-licking the tender marks. While his mouth worked on your upper body, his always wandering hand caressed all its way to your panties, took them off in one movement and shamelessly pressed two fingers in your center. You hadn’t realized until that very moment that you were drenched.

“Shit, baby, what has you this wet already?” Taehyung exhaled in a deep, deep voice. Oh no. The spike in your hormones dropped suddenly and your whole body grew cold and rigid. You remembered and the emotions buried you like an avalanche. A sob escaped you, followed by tears and more sobs. “Love, love, wait, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

“I- I can’t tell you. You will hate me…” you mumbled. Taehyung never stopped fondling your folds thru the panties.

“I could never hate you, baby. Not even if you leave me, not even if you fuck my best friend.” You looked at him like a deer in headlights, tensing from head to toe. He picked up the change in your energy and, honestly, deep down, he was enjoying the situation a little, tremendously excited for the surprise he had for you. Despite your reaction, he slowly stroked your folds, soaking his hold hand in your wetness. “Babe? Something to tell me? Maybe that Jungkookie made you wet tonight?” It was not possible to open more your eyes and yet, you did. Your heart was about to explode, scared shitless for being caught.

“N-no, no…” you mumbled, suddenly losing your capacity for communicating. So many things you wanted to say, apologies in every language, and the only thing you could do was to let out tiny tears at the corners of your eyes. To spice things up, Taehyung took the liberty of putting one finger on your clit, drawing circles. You inhaled sharply, electricity running thru every nerve in your body.

“Angel, don’t lie to me. I saw the whole thing. He was after you as he had always been, but our little Jungkookie can’t keep jerking off to the memory of you in a sundress forever, don’t you think?” You gaped at him, partially for his mastered skills on your pussy, partially for all the information he was dropping on you. After you? Always been? The sundress episode?! Your boyfriend gave you The Look: that look that promised to give you something so wicked but oh so fucking good, that you will be on the clouds for days.

He simply smiled at you, as sweet as ever. You sensed something big was about to happen.

“Babe, do you think you could handle both of us? Or is my baby too weak to take two cocks at the same time?” Blank. Nothing. Not even a fleeting, coherent thought crossed your mind. Of all things that could have come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, the most unexpected of them did. You had to ask to yourself in all seriousness if you weren’t hallucinating. Would your boyfriend Kim Taehyung really be up for a threesome? Yes, it was in character with him. With a friend of his? Well, he was a person that relied a lot on trust, so it would obviously be someone he trusted much like a friend. But with Jungkook? You never considered it.

You were too slow to reply to your boyfriend, it seemed, because he took his wet hand off your pussy and slapped you lightly on the thigh. It surprised you but sure took you out of all trance.

“I asked you something, doll. Are you too dumb to reply yes or no?” Oh. Oh. He was getting on that mood, one kink at the time. Generally, his domineering and demeaning attitude were enticing enough to get you going. That night was not exception. You gulped, your heart racing like never before. “Would you want Jungkook to join us or not?” His words were stern but he was the love of your life, you could read him better than anyone on earth, and in his eyes you saw the tenderness and love he always had for you. He wasn’t pressuring you, that was for sure. So, you found the confidence to confess your sins, and to agree to sin even more.

“Yes, Taehyung” you whispered because, how right was admitting out loud that you also wanted Jungkook? Though you couldn’t understand why he was looking for an answer so earnestly. His eyes darkened in no time; an enigmatic smile graced his beautiful face. Why did it feel like you just sold your soul to the devil?

He pressed a desperate kiss on your lips, condensing all the excitement and lust that involved the prospect of a threesome. Holy shit, you thought. He wanted a threesome this bad?

“Baby,” he said, kissing one last time “you just made two men happy, and am sure you are about to give us one hell of a night.” You smiled at him, happy that he was that overjoyed – until you let his words sink.

“About to…?” You frowned and, as always, he just smiled.

“Jungkookie!” your boyfriend yelled loudly; loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.

By instinct only, you looked at the door: lo and behold, the Jeon Jungkook opened it slowly, with his big Bambi eyes looking at the floor and his lower lip between his teeth. Your heart dropped to the first floor of the building. What was happening?

“Yah, Jungkook, did you come to fuck my floor or to fuck my girlfriend?” Your eyes were on your boyfriend on an instant, red all over your face. “Look how pretty she looks, all dumb and lost. And she is so wet already that both of us could slip in right now and she would just take it.” His words weren’t that dirty and yet, your body responded to his voice almost on command. Before Taehyung, you weren’t very fond of dirty talk, but the man made it his mission to find the right combination of words, the right timbre of his voice, that would work on you. And he was always successful on whatever he set his mind on.

You saw Jungkook taking a seat on the loveseat Taehyung kept on his room, diagonal to the bed to have the best view. His eyes were anywhere until they arrived on you, a fire burning on you as soon as you saw the arousal written on his face. Never in your life had you felt so much energy contained in a room, thick and suffocating: the heat of three young people that wanted nothing more than to jump at each other’s bones. You bite your lip, because desperation was overpowering your reason. You needed something, everything, whatever they could give you. You looked at your boyfriend, the only one that knew how to proceed, he looked back.

“Doll, I have to warn you. It’s been so long since Jungkookie wetted his dick that he probably will be like a dog in heat once he gets a taste of your pussy, so brace yourself and whenever you want to stop, we stop, all clear?” You nodded. “Good, all of us will use the color system so we’re all on the same page, do you understand me?” The question was directed at Jungkook, who nodded eagerly. Tae was silent for a moment, clearly thinking, and then he doubled the bet. “Jungkookie, get that seat closer to the bed. Closer. Yeah, right by our side.” And now you had your boyfriend’s best friend right by your side, as if he was about to examinate your body being fucked and needed to pay close attention to details. Well, yeah, that’s what was going to happen.

It was it. Everything was ready and set to start. For some reason, desperation evaporated instantly and nervousness took over your body, hands growing cold and heart jumping like crazy. You had never had someone watching you have sex, much less in a threesome. What if you did something awkward? What if you make him uncomfortable in some way? What if you can’t balance out right and end up giving more attention to Jungkook than your boyfriend? You would prefer to take your eyeballs out and eat them than to make your loverboy believe that you don’t want him. However, just as you read him expertly, so he does you, catching your worries as soon as they appear.

“Babe, you don’t need to worry about anything. This is for you more than for any of us. Just let yourself be, we will do the rest, okay?” You nodded, and the deal was sealed. Tae smiled once more before diving for a deep, wet kiss. It was so dizzyingly good, the expertise he had on kissing. His tongue entered your mouth again for a short time, before making the same path it did before, this time towards your breasts.

“Don’t- don’t take her shirt off” Jungkook stuttered gravelly, out of nowhere. Taehyung smirked at him. You frowned slightly.

“Why? Because you want to see me fuck my girlfriend while she’s wearing your shirt? You’re a pervert, man.” Your heart skipped a beat. Shirt? You went to sleep almost naked in Jungkook’s shirt? Your wide eyes questioned your boyfriend. “Baby, I had never worn that shirt in my life, Jungkookie left it here when he stayed over last week.” Stopping you from overthinking any more, he resumed where he left.

Taehyung had a specific routine for your boobs. Just like in that moment, he would suck lightly here and there, alternating between the two mounds. Then, he would lick one of them to the nipple, blowing air on it and giving you goosebumps, just to hear you whimpering. Finally, he would take the nipple inside his mouth for real; savoring it, licking it with his broad, hot tongue, moistening your chest with the saliva he let drip from time to time. And after he makes sure one of your breasts was as soaked as your panties, he goes for the other one and gives it the same treatment. It was messy and dirty and you both loved it.

This time, as your boyfriend finished one side and went to the other, you made the (lucky) mistake of looking at Jungkook. Damn, if he wasn’t a sight. Legs spread, hands on his inner thighs, and oh, his face. His face was enough to induce anybody into an early cum. He looked shaken already, with lips pink and parted enough to catch a glimpse of the saliva gathering there, clearly wanting to be in the place of your boyfriend; and his dark, lustful eyes were fixated solely on your chest, about to jump on you and feast on your body, nose exhaling shakily. It was the second man in your life that looked at you with such unbridled desire, the first one still entertained on your chest. The maknae must have felt you staring at him because his dark gaze shifted and now fixed on yours.

When did this man turned from the indifferent, jealous guy to this hot, hungry-for-you man? You didn’t know if it was your imagination but it was as if his eyes expressed every thing he wanted to do to you. I want to rip your clothes, you felt he thought, I wanna lick and suck and mark with my spit every inch of your body; I wanna open your legs and bury my head there, drink every drop of your sweet juices, make you come only with my tongue inside you, suck and lick your clit until you pass out but keep cumming; I wanna fuck all your holes, make you cry my name, choke you on my cock while I fuck your mouth so hard and my cum leaks from every hole in your body. Taehyung lifted his hear from your boob.

“Fuck dude, you been watching hentai again? That’s some hardcore shit and you recited it like a love poem. Even I got wet.” Oh, so you weren’t imagining it. Jungkook grew red like the ripest of tomatoes but his stare didn’t waver: his words were all for you to hear. You were… flattered, maybe? Definitely turned on, visualizing already all those things he mentioned. And Tae, the omnipresent-omnipotent boyfriend, noticed. “Babe, no. You won’t be an easy slut yet, not when the owner of this cunt is present.” And his mouth went down south, directly to latch on said pussy, slurping noisily at your drenched folds.

The moan you let out was loud and it didn’t stop, because your boyfriend suctioned just as loud, getting the tip of his tongue on your entrance to tease you. Your pussy tickled intensely, and you got a grip of Taehyung’s locks, pulling, which made him moan too. It was all too good. You could already taste the beginning of a climax…

And you don’t know when it happened but you suddenly felt something hot, fat, and hard on your unoccupied hand. You tensed and opened your eyes just to find Jungkook with his big, glorious cock out in the open, guiding your hand up and down on it. Your eyes connected again for a moment, before he licked his lower lip and threw his head back, moaning too. You could recognize when a guy put on a show for you, and it was exactly that what the man did, with his straining neck and tensed abs – that just now realized were visible, thanks to his open shirt. All this stimulation on you and yet it didn’t feel enough, so you couldn’t help but whine at the two men.

Both of them looked at you at the same time, Tae zeroing on your sloppy handjob with surprise. He now looked at his friend and adjusted his bulge in his pants while he said:

“So, the golden maknae wants to compete? With me? The unbeaten slayer of this pussy? Let’s fucking go.” Oh no, Taehyung was in a playful mood – That only could mean you were going to have a long, long night. Not a breath passed and your boyfriend had a finger up your entrance already and his thumb working on your clit. That angle always got him to that particular nerve on your clit that made you see stars, and what more advantage in their little competition that having you writhing and moaning non-stop. Your body was no longer yours. You accepted this fate happily.

Your eyes were closed when you felt a different shape on your left hand – the one that was on Jungkook. You looked at him just in time to see him take your wrist and pulling your hand away from his balls, getting your palm near his face so he could spit on it, and then taking it back to fondle his testicles. Your breath caught in your throat and warmth spread all over your chest. It was the new hottest thing you have seen in your life. Jungkook only smiled proudly at you.

Taehyung, who was also watching the spit show, scoffed and dived between your legs. His tongue accompanied his finger inside you, going out to lap at your clit here and there. One long finger became two, then three and all of them scissored, opening you up more and more until you could take those fingers and his thick tongue easily. One particular lick made you flex all your muscles, your left hand closing tight on Jungkook’s cock. You groaned, he sucked in a breath, your boyfriend slurped noisily again.

“Angel,” Taehyung began, sitting on his hunches. You felt more wetness dripping as you ogled at him in all his pussy-eating glory. Face soaked, hair disheveled, eyes in ectasis. He even licked his lips, collecting the juices you left on him. “do you think you could take more?” You nodded in a heartbeat. “Okay, so go suck Jungkookie’s cock while I get your pussy ready, alright?” This time, he didn’t spare you even one second to think before maneuvering you on your hands and knees, the maknae sitting on your bed and your head hanging over his red tip. Your boyfriend caressed your asscheeks from behind, getting a mewl from you and slapping you hard right away. “Get to work, slut.” Following his words, he licked a long strip from your clit to your wrinkled asshole.

But you still didn’t get to work on Jungkook, so your boyfriend gripped your hair from behind and pushed your head down, making you engulf the meaty length in front of you in one go. You choked, of course, gurgling and trying to swallow with a closed-up throat. The grip on his member made Jungkook moan and put his hand on your head, to keep you in place. You relaxed a little, allowing a smoother slide of him in your mouth, now taking control and hollowing your cheeks. Your tongue swirled around the whole diameter of his beefy cock, which was bigger and heavier than you initially thought, and then suctioned hard. The tip of your tongue teased his slit and the sides of his head, salivating more and more the longer you had him in your mouth. You guessed the maknae liked your blowjob technique because he seemed uncapable of stopping whining and writhing.

“Jungkookie” your boyfriend sing-sang suddenly. The maknae was barely able to maintain his eyes on him. “Tell me how is my baby doing. Do you like it? She sucks cocks like a champ.” It was difficult with his member buried to the hilt in your face but you still made an attempt to look up at the man. His eyes found yours and you felt more precum dribble inside your mouth. “But you seem too shy still. Why don’t you try living up your fantasies and fuck her mouth? I promise, she was born to take cocks.” You could feel Taehyung’s hands spreading open your buttcheeks, and then his tongue flitting over your puckered hole. Your breath caught in you and you had to let go of the dick to moan loud and long.

“You, uh – you focus on me, Y/N” Jungkook stumbled upon his own words, but didn’t waste time in taking your head with his two hands and pushing you down onto him again, which you gladly accepted. He tried snapping his hips up slightly, making you moan and send vibrations on his cock. That’s all he needed to fuck up into your mouth again, making you gag, eyes watering. “Yeah, fuck” he breathed out while speeding up his hips. Cock pushing your jaw wide open, you mewled as much as you could, enjoying the rough treatment and encouraging the man to give you more. “Shit, hyung, her mouth is amazing.”

“I told you, and wait until you taste her pussy” your boyfriend replied, voice low and raspy and touching your pussy in that same manner. With no warning, Taehyung’s cock prods a few times at your entrance before he thrusts in, pushing all air out of you. It was intense, your insides pulsing with the girth and length of your boyfriend’s member, and then the cock in your mouth throbbed too. “Talk to her, JK, she loves it.” He grabbed you by your hair again, yanking you up until you were face to face with his best friend. “Especially if you tell her what a filthy slut she is, and all the bad things you are going to do to her.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook started, looking directing into your soul. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna drink it and say thank you, ok?” He sounded so serious that chills covered your whole body, and his command was so hot but he gave you no time to dwell on it because he shoved his cock in you.

“Bravo!” Taehyung celebrated with a rough snap of his hips into you. You gobbled the cock as much as he allowed you, which wasn’t much with the speed and harshness of his thrusts into your face. “Aww, doll, we found a good use for you as our cumdump, isn’t that lovely? Jk, make the honors of creampieing her mouth.” And he fucks up into you hard, making you move forward and choke on Jungkook. The stretch burns deliciously and you can’t help but moan, throat tight and vibrating on the cock you were sucking.

Jungkook cums at that, releasing ropes and ropes on your mouth while still fucking into it. The movements difficulted your swallowing, so most of it leaked from the corners of your lips. He whined at the sounds of you gargling. And in the heat of the moment, the maknae said:

“Yeah, fuck, slobber it all up, slut. You love being filled with cum until it spills, don’t you? That’s all what whores like you are for, anyways.” In an instant, your boyfriend, who kept fucking you frantically from behind, yanks you up with a hand around your neck until your back arched against his chest. From that angle, his cock reached new places inside you, making you scream and spill the remnants of Jungkook’s cum you didn’t get to swallow. Tae got close enough to your ear to suck at your lobe. It all was so overwhelming, you had to close your eyes.

“Come on, baby. Are you going to be an ungrateful bitch or are you going to thank JK for cleansing your disgusting mouth?” He took your jaw and moved it so you were facing down.

You opened your eyes to catch a glimpse of Jungkook moving towards you, but your brain couldn’t process anything until you felt his mouth on your clit. With every thrust, Taehyung grinded you over his best friend outstretched tongue, who moaned eagerly. Seeing you forgot what he just said, your boyfriend gave you a particularly harsh thrust, which made your whole pussy smash on the broad expanse of the tongue working on you. You screamed.

“Say thank you, you fucking whore. Are you that stupid that a little fuck breaks you?” You whimpered.

“Thank you, Jungkook” you said shakily, and that devil of a man smiled up devilish at you, before nibbling and sucking at your clit. And you came, squirting like a faucet right on the maknae’s face and neck.

“Holy fuck!” Jungkook exclaimed, lower part of his face drenched and dripping from the chin. His pupils were blown out, looking bigger and more menacing than ever before.

Your body lost all strength, becoming jelly in Taehyung’s arms, who didn’t stop assaulting your pussy. You tried squeezing your walls to bring him closer to climax, but the man had way too much endurance.

Instead of slowing down or getting sloppy, Tae descended on his ass, taking you with him to the bed head and accommodating you on his lap. While his cock was still into you, he moved you around like a rag doll so he could fold you in half, his hands coming under your thighs and lifting them, knees hooked on his forearms easily. He’s got you spread wide open, showing Jungkook how his cock went in and out of your dripping cunt. You wanted to whine and complain about overstimulation, but the reality was that the friction of Tae’s long and thick cock was so delectable that you felt a second release nearing already.

Jungkook’s eyes stared brazenly the place where you and Taehyung were connected, entranced by the easy slide in and out in your moistened pussy. Carefully, he put his hand on your used folds, stroking reverently the flesh all around where his best friend’s member was, and then his thumb went to your clit. You exhaled his name. He, in return, slapped your pussy.

“What a filthy bitch, moaning other man’s name while your boyfriend is fucking you” he reprimanded you, fingers still on your wetness. He shifted forward a little to be aligned with your pussy so he could spit on it, watching his saliva running down and disappearing between your folds and Tae’s cock. You moaned again. This time, it was Taehyung who reprimanded you with a harsh slap on your ass.

“Is playing with your pussy all it takes for you to let anybody use you? Stupid slut, offering your loose cunt to Jungkookie, dirtied and sloppy with your own juices. You’re too filthy, baby, we will have to cleanse you.” Then, your boyfriend unhooked your leg from his arm, and went to hold your jaw, turning you to face him, and dived in as if to kiss you – but before descending on you, he put pressure to make you open your mouth and just then let a dribble of saliva drop into your awaiting tongue. “Don’t swallow” he commanded, before offering your open cavity to Jungkook to do the same as him. The other man spitted with force, and got close enough to suck your lower lip into his mouth while Tae controlled you still. Your pussy throbbed and tightened on your boyfriend.

But they didn’t stop there. As your boyfriend went down on your neck and sucked and lapped sloppily, Jungkook went to your chest, dribbling more and more of his spit on your breasts, before capturing your nipples and nibbling them. You were so lost in the mess they were making of you that you almost miss the sensation of something tapping at the hole that was already filled.

You look down and can perfectly see the way Jungkook’s tip was pushing between your folds and Taehyung’s dick, like waiting for an invitation in. Even in the heat of the moment, you realized that maybe it was too much to fit the two of them inside you, looking at the girth of their cocks, and you panicked.

“It won’t be like that, don’t worry” your boyfriend, who sensed right away your worry, whispered in your ear. You relaxed, trusting him with your life.

Next thing you knew was that he lifted you from his cock, just to take your hand and make you guide Jungkook inside you. Your insides couldn’t stop throbbing; he was a little shorter than Tae but his girth, god damn, it barely could fit inside, even with your pussy as loose as your boyfriend’s own beefy cock made you. It took you a moment but as soon as he started thrusting, you moaned uncontrollably. Now you understood their plan: they took turns fucking into you, thrusting up a couple times before taking their cocks out and letting the other fuck your hole. You were really getting used by them as a mere hole to share, which was incredibly turning on.

All of you were reaching your peaks, movements growing erratic and wild. At some point, Jungkook took his cock out of you and started thrusting into his own hand, precum still falling over your mound. Taehyung was almost there, and so were you, both of you needing one last little thing to tip you over the edge.

“Jungkook.” The richness of your lover’s voice made you tremble. You didn’t realize you had your eyes close, but once you open them, you find Jungkook scooting over, his lips getting closer and closer to yours. Just when you thought he was about to kiss you, he goes past you, and you get to watch the single hottest image you had ever seen: Jungkook went in and kissed Taehyung. And at that same time, Jungkook’s tip nudged its way inside you, besides Tae’s cock.

You came like never before, so hard that all your lights went out.

…

You open your eyes once you hear whispering around you. First, you realize you’re on your bed, underneath the fluffy covers you love. Then, you realize you’re sandwiched between two strong, warm bodies (which makes you feel kinda giddy inside). You focus your gaze on the face in front of you. It’s your boyfriend, smiling as always.

“Hi, love” he says sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? Like you came back from heaven after being killer by a sixteen-wheeled truck running over you. Your body ached all over from exerting so much energy trying to keep up with your boyfriend, but it brought you so much pleasure that you still felt the vanishing ripples of your orgasm swirling in your insides.

“I’m okay” you simply responded. From behind you, you felt a warm body molding to yours, his arms hugging your hips lightly and his face nuzzling into your hair.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook sweetly asked in your ear. His voice sent goosebumps.

“It was all for you, love. Jungkookie sure put you in the spot at Hobi’s place, he had to make it better somehow.” You looked at your boyfriend and then at the other man over your shoulder. Before saying anything, you lay on your back, so you could watch and talk to both of them at the same time.

“I liked it, but I don’t know how to feel about it. What if I said no? Would you have just stood in front of our door, listening to us have sex?”

“No,” Jungkook answered instantly. “I was in the hallway; you can’t hear much from there. If Taehyung didn’t call for me after some time, I would just go home.”

“So you don’t hate me anymore?”

“Hate you?” both men exclaimed simultaneously. Was it that surprising? It’s all you felt from Jungkook since always. Taehyung laughed joyously.

“Baby, I think I never told you in what circumstances I started dating you.” You arched an eyebrow to your boyfriend. He smirked. “Jungkookie and I had to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who asked you out first.” They WHAT? “I won and Jungkookie had to eat my shit. But you’re too damn hot for your own good, dear, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you – because I can’t neither.” The explanation should have cleared up any doubts you had but if anything, it birthed more questions. All these times you thought Jungkook hated you were just him concealing his desires poorly?

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. I tried my best to be distant so you wouldn’t get mistaken and think I wanted to steal you from Tae. I like you but would never try to break you two apart.” You saw pure sincerity in his doe eyes. Though you were incredibly confused, you decided to believe his words, because you knew he was a good guy after all. And he loved his friends more than anything, that was for sure. Unexpectedly, his hand came up to caress the side of your face tenderly, looking deeply into your eyes. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” You wanted to say no, for your boyfriend’s sake; but he was the one that took your hand in his and squeezed it supportively, murmuring a ‘do it’ under his breath.

You got close to Jungkook, who couldn’t waste even a second more and crashed his soft lips on yours. He kissed you urgently, like a man that had been thirsty for so long and just now had a drop of refreshing water. He savored your lips, your taste, and sucked your lip sensually. Soon enough, his tongue entered your mouth, and fire burned in your lower half. Your body still ached but the open-mouth kisses that your boyfriend left on your neck got you ready for more in no time.

“Now let us make love to you, dear” Taehyung exhaled against your skin, while Jungkook got his hand under your panties and his lips on your collarbone. “Let us show you how much we adore you.”

How could you say no to that?

[the-californicationist]

Let's get you to 100, new gif addition and prompt ask!

Reader likes being controlled, even as she chafes against it, but there's only 1 person she wants to have that privilege.

You decide who, have fun writing lovely 😏

heyyy!! im backkkkkkk 😘 sorry for the wait! had to go on a bit of a hiatus, so thanks for being patient. and thank you so much for the ask!! sexy as hell babes omg. hope you like it. i went a little overboard on the word count sorry 🫣

TW: light bdsm and contol themes, rough sex

Soft Reins

His voice followed you down the wet sidewalk as you made your escape, striding in long reaching steps to put more distance between yourself and your apartment. 

“C’mon, bonnie! Ye cannae walk in this shite. It’s pissin’ down. Bonnie!”

You waved and smiled up at Soap as he hung over the balcony of your shared space, a deep frown pasted across his mouth as he tried to dodge the raindrops. 

Living with the boys, as you lovingly called them, was full of challenges. For one, they seemed to be oblivious to deep cleaning of any kind, and if you didn’t have the primary school style chore chart hanging on the fridge, your whole house would descend into chaos. The only exception was their captain, and his standards were thankfully on par with your own. 

But, even worse, they were nosey. They seemed to love to be in your business, always making excuses to join you on nights out, standing in an all-too-intimidating pack when you brought home dates from said outings. Even Price was not above casually bullying an unsuspecting potential someone. It was enough to drive a girl mad.

You never got a call back. Any bloke brave enough to follow you back to your place, flanked by your surly entourage, was only as courageous as he needed to be to get his dick wet. After that, he’d ghost you. There were plenty of eligible partners who had much less intimidating roommates. 

In the past year, the longest relationship you had was with a man who didn’t make it over to your house for nearly four months. You had gone through all sorts of trouble to keep the boys from finding out about him, and you guarded his address like it was the nuclear launch codes. You thought you were in the clear when the team had to leave for another deployment, but one morning — when you were wearing only your boyfriend’s tee shirt — they decided to come tromping back in, totally unannounced. 

It was all over, then. Back to the drawing board. 

Gaz was the worst offender by far. Once, when you had planned a spa date for yourself, you’d been treated to all sorts of services that you didn’t order. The staff kept insisting that it was complimentary, but you knew in your heart that it wasn’t. By the end of the visit, you were left fretting about the bill. But, when you walked up to the counter, you discovered that it had already been paid. 

 “Oh! Your mister called it in. Already paid.” The clerk’s smile was blinding in only the way a clerk’s smile could be.

“And who is the mister?” You smiled to yourself, not with much joy, shoving your credit card back into your wallet.

“Well, he said he was your mister. A Mr. Garrick?”

Of course. 

You had only to turn around to see his shining red Beamer revved and waiting to take you to lunch. Gaz’s sunglasses gleamed in the daylight as he grinned down at you, standing over his car, his elbows resting on the roof, smug as could be.

You met him in the parking lot, bags and bags of essential oils and spa creams, heavy in your hands.

“Kyle,” you said curtly, “What did you do?”

“Nothin’, babes. Get in. We’ve got a table at that sushi joint you like.”

You complained that Gaz was overstepping. You moaned about Soap being heavy-handed. You lost your temper when you found the fourteenth Air Tag that Ghost had sewn into the bottom of your trainers. It was too much. You hated feeling trapped, and you thrived in your independence. But, living with these men meant that your desire for freedom was directly at odds with their desire for control. 

It wasn’t their fault, really. That was who they were. They were good at their high-profile special operation world-saving careers because they were good at control. It was what made them great soldiers. 

But, one of them was far better at it than the others. 

Captain John Price didn’t follow you down the street. He didn’t chase you in his shadowy, blacked-out Evija. And he certainly didn’t need to hide trackers in your clothes. No; his control was insidious. It made your blood boil, and it had you questioning your every move. He had a way of making you think that what he wanted was what you wanted, and when you ultimately discovered his plans, you could only blame yourself. Price was the king of control, but that wasn’t the worst part. 

The worst part was that you liked it. 

You hadn’t been home for the holidays in years. Ever since lockdown, and your huge workload at your office, you just couldn’t find the time to make it back. International flights were hard to plan, expensive, and it seemed like something always came up. When you mentioned it off-handedly to Price, he’d comforted you, 

“Tha’s alright, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find the time this year.”

That was in June. By December, your boss had mysteriously found out that you had a full week of extra paid time off that you needed to take, and your credit card called you to let you know that your airline mileage points had doubled. It was as if everything in the universe had aligned so that you could make it back to your family. 

You’d told the boys over dinner one night, and they celebrated with you, happy for you to be able to finally live your dream. Then, Price had grabbed your phone, reading the email and going over the fine print. 

It grated on you, but you needed to learn how to pick your battles in this house. So, you waited for his approval, tight-lipped. 

“Double miles… ah, there’s a catch,” his voice rumbled in his chest, low and even. 

“What catch?” You panicked. Nothing could upset this perfect balance you’d achieved.

He pointed down to the conditions, and you read it for yourself as he told you,

“Says here they granted double miles for two tickets purchased.”

“Two? Who the fuck am I going to get to come to Saskatoon in December?” You sighed, head in your hands, trying to figure out how you were going to make it work.

“Well, the boys are heading up to check on MacTavish’s mum, but Kate’s got me on a leash. I can ask her to make me remote on this project, if you want.”

His tone wasn’t sly. It didn’t sound like he was hiding something. If anything, he sounded earnest, and it was such a kind gesture of friendship that he would be willing to join you in order to help you see your folks. 

But, that’s what wormed its way under your skin. You knew it was him. You just couldn’t prove it. Months of God knows what kind of backdoor, black-market dealing and manipulation, all orchestrated just to…

Just to what? Make you happy?

Inwardly, you struggled against your bindings, the invisible ropes he’d so carefully weaved just to have you come to him of your own free will, bent on your hands and knees, obedient and eager for your reward.

“Jonathan…” You started to resist, to rebel. Every time you started your sentence, you were stopped in your tracks by the cold, hard truth: He didn’t force you to do anything. You’d done it all of your own free will. 

That was how it had started. But, holy fuck had it escalated. 

Price was the perfect gentleman on your flight over, mysteriously charming his way into business class seats. He downloaded some of your favorite movies onto his iPad, even though you didn’t remember ever telling him that they were your favorites. He even snuck his way back to the flight attendants’ galley, laughing and joking with them, procuring you two extra desserts from the carts since you were such a fan. 

Then, he met your family, and he fit in perfectly. It was as if he was the missing member, a long lost kin, just waiting to be reunited into the fold. Your mother couldn’t figure out what had you so bothered. 

“About time you brought a good one home. Even your Uncle Billy likes him, and Billy —”

You rolled your eyes, 

“And Billy doesn’t like anyone, I know. I know.”

“Honey,” your mother looked at you with a sternness that she didn’t often muster, peering at you over her rose-rimmed glasses, “Why can’t you just let someone take care of you for a change? He’s a good man.”

A good man. 

John Price was a killer. No, he was worse. He was a CIA-funded, black ops, government-overthrowing war machine, capable of literal atrocities. You hadn’t heard much, but you’d heard enough. If any of these people knew how quickly he could turn a crowded room into an empty one, none of them would be looking so fondly at the way he snuggled with the dog or complimented your dad’s knife collection. 

But, that wasn’t why you protested, was it? If you were really being honest with yourself, the reason why you were so against letting Jonathan War Machine Price run your life was that it was yours to run. You didn’t need anyone’s help.

You didn’t need it.  

You could handle things on your own. 

You liked being able to spread your wings, fly your own path…

You were nobody’s puppet.

But, you were starting to like the way he was pulling your strings. When he would take the pressure of choice away from you, after you’d already been making a million other decisions at the end of a long day, it eased something inside of you in a way that nothing else could. It was like he was using those huge, rough palms to massage the hurt out of your head, to show you that it didn’t need to be such a battle, you didn’t need to keep fighting. He would do the fighting for you, and he was determined to show you that he was good at it. 

Even now, as you stomped through the rain, you knew what you were running from. You told yourself you were avoiding John, that you wouldn’t let him see you struggling to hold yourself together. After a much needed switch into a different position at work, the stress of your own expectations weighed heavy on you. But, you wanted them to. You wanted to know that you could still make it alone. You didn’t need John Price. 

But, you’re wearing the slicker he bought for you when yours got left in a cab.

So?

But, you smell like oud, saffron, and bergamot; the perfume oils he found for you at that local boutique you love. The same one he always compliments when he smells you wearing it. 

So?

But, you’re tired and wet and cold, and all you want is for him to tell you what you want.

So?! 

The soft, amber glow of a cigar stopped you in your tracks. A man was sitting on your bus stop bench, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his legs spread wide, taking up as much space as he liked. He was smoking slowly, enjoying every breath, savoring the flavors. Flavors you knew all too well: vanilla, licorice, sweet cedar, and whiskey. 

His sharp, blue eyes only met yours when you let out a labored sigh.

“What are you doing here, John?”

He took another drag, letting the ashes smolder, their warm glow making him look more and more like the Devil, a fallen man bathed in the light of a fire he lit all by himself. And damn proud of the blaze, too. 

“Just waitin’ for my ride,” he smiled in the way that a cat must smile at a mouse under its paw, “Do you wanna sit down, sweetheart?”

“No! I don’t wanna sit down,” you threw up your hands, “I want you to stop meddling in my life. You’re not allowed to keep making me feel like… like I need someone… some — Like I need someone’s fucking help. I don’t need anyone but me.”

His tone shifted in a sudden heat, like a flash in the pan, unexpected,

“Do you think I have any bloody help?”

Price let the question sink in before standing in front of you, his gaze never leaving your eyes. His voice was soft and gravelly, thick with smoke, and yet each and every word cut into you as sharp as a blade,

“Do you think anyone comes to help me when I’m deep in some bullshit, fuckin’ around in Rammaza? Just me, is it? By myself?”

“I don’t… no, I don’t know…” You hated how small your voice sounded in this tiny bus stop hut, the pounding rain drowning out your words. 

John looked at you as if he was waiting on you to find another answer, and then his face softened. He flung the cigar onto the pavement and crushed it out under his boot, smashing the tobacco into the cement without mercy. The object of his affection, once consumed, now snuffed out under his own power. 

His hands wrapped around your shoulders, caging you in, warm and safe from the wind blocked by his broad back. He sighed, his mouth drawing a tight line across his face, 

“Of course I need fuckin’ help. I have my men, and they have me. And I keep you here,” he jammed a finger hard into his chest, “Deep inside me, remindin’ me what I need to come home to. I’m not… meddling in your life, love. I’m trying to put you in mine. I thought…” 

He pulled away, sitting back down, looking up at you with a unique look on his face, 

“I thought that’s what you wanted. If I’m wrong,” he let out a dark, bitter chuff, “You need to tell me right now. ‘Cause all my plans have you in them.”

The rain made the plexiglass roof sound like it was shattering, over and over, the concussive slam of the storm created an oppressive din. He was waiting there, looking at you, asking for your next move. What was your plan?

“Am I wrong, sweetheart?”

You waited, trying to see how many steps ahead he was in front of you. If you said yes, if you said no; what decisions had already been made for you? Did he know what you were going to say before you did? And the real question: Why were you fighting so hard against something you wanted so badly?

You shook your head back and forth, just enough for him to see. HIs eyes lit up with hope and energy, a renewed flame.

“Then, come home with me. Quit bein’ so bloody hard on yourself. Let’s get you dry, love. C’mon.”

So, you obeyed. 

Nothing was more humbling than climbing into a squat little sports car when you were drenched to the bone. You curled yourself right into his cage, feeling silly for ever wanting to escape from it. Why were you pulling so hard against such soft reins? Couldn’t you see that he wanted to take care of you? To remove all of your barriers, to clear your path? You would be more powerful under his wing, soaring far beyond what you were capable of on your own. Why deny yourself a bite of the apple? It was ripe, the snake had promised, and sweet. 

He helped you up the stairs to your flat, walking you past his men as they gathered together in the kitchen, speechless, for once. None of them dared question their captain’s choices, and he had chosen you. More than that, it was clear that you had chosen him. 

Once you were in his room, behind a locked door, he held up a hand and stopped you in the entryway, shivering and dripping by the door. 

“Wait here.”

You waited. 

You waited some more. 

Just when you thought you would turn around and take yourself to bed, he returned dressed in a dry tee and a pair of running shorts. He carried two large, fluffy towels, and his face was set into a serious mask. All business. 

“Take off your clothes.”

You hesitated, looking at him to make sure you heard him correctly. 

He met your gaze, standing so close to you that you could feel his breath against your cheek. His chest was inches from your face, and you had to look up in order to meet his eyes.

“Take.”

He grabbed your phone out of your hand and dropped it on his entry table.

“Off.”

He rucked the jacket off of your back, peeling it down your arms and letting it fall to the ground with a wet slap.

“Your.” 

His fingers pulled the tie out of your ruined braid, letting the elastic roll onto his wrist. 

“Clothes.”

His hands went back to his side. It was up to you to do the rest. He wasn’t here to do everything for you. You were not his plaything. You had to choose to obey him. He wanted to watch you choose to follow his orders, not because you needed to, but because you wanted to.

Slowly, and a bit unsure, you began to shed your layers. You started with your shirt, almost knocking into him with your elbows since he was towering over you, standing in your space. Then, you writhed out of your jeans, peeling them off of your legs, kicking away your shoes in the process, stepping gingerly out of your socks, needing to hold onto his thick trunk for balance. 

Now, in just your bra and panties, you waited, hoping he’d hand you a towel. 

“What did I say?” He asked in a hushed tone, the timbre containing just enough warning to make your cheeks hot. 

“No, John. The boys are here in the kitchen!” You protested, whispering in a low hiss. 

This was beyond what you expected from him. You’d been keeping him at arm’s length, despite his constant pressure to be in your life. Sure, there had been moments of weakness. You’d shared a kiss, and you had let his hands wander when you watched a movie together on the sofa last weekend, but that was as far as things had gone. Stripping naked in the bright light of his apartment suite was something else entirely. Not to mention what sort of noises would seep out under his doorway if things got out of hand. 

“Stop,” he grabbed you by your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Stop fighting me. I am in this. All the way. The only time I wanna hear you tell me no is when you really mean it. If you say stop, I will immediately stop. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded. He released you and put his hands on his hips, impatient. 

So, you slid out of your bra, slowly letting the cups pull away from your breasts, the lace cold and damp on your skin as it joined your outfit on the floor. As you rolled your panties off of your hips, stepping out of them and shoving them under your jacket with your toe, you felt more than just naked. You felt vulnerable and a little scared. 

What would he say? What did he plan to do? You realized, with a chilly shudder, that you didn’t even know his personal preferences. He’d never even given you a cursory glance into his mind, and reading his thoughts was impossible with that serious poker face. Most men wore their thoughts right across their eyes, or some (like Soap) even muttered them aloud, unconcerned about any judgment or scrutiny. If a man wanted you, you’d know. They were an open book. 

But the captain was very hard to read. 

Suddenly, as you stood back up, warring with your own mind, you were surrounded in fuzzy, comforting warmth. He was drying you off, wiping your arms and legs with reverent care, squeezing the rain out of your hair, using the corner of the cloth to wipe your face, holding you in his arms when you felt weak, off-balance, exhausted. 

It seemed as if the more you relaxed into him, the more power you gave up, the more it began to stoke his fire. While you became soft and pliant, he shifted into a fierce protector, covering you with his hands, bracing you with his heavy bones.

Price wrapped your hair into a high bun with an unexpected level of skill, and he carefully stretched your hair tie around it. When he turned to face you, you caught him staring at your body, raking his eyes over your breasts and studying the curve of your mons. It was as if he was groping you with his eyes, and each swipe of his gaze felt like a lick from his warm tongue. It was enough of an invasion that you wanted to put your hands in front of yourself, to hide out of some sort of shame.  

But when you made a move to cover yourself, the look in his eyes was enough to make you stand with your hands at your sides, allowing yourself to be on full display for him and that ravenous glare. He hadn’t even needed to chastise you. His mere desire was enough of a correction. 

Then, almost like a reward, he wrapped the towel around you, letting you hold it tight to your chest. 

“Tell me what’s goin’ on inside that pretty head,” he commanded you, his voice quiet but firm. It was just a simple question, but you knew it was loaded. So, you brushed him off, tossing out cheap bait, wrapping the towel a little tighter around yourself, hoping he’d drop it. You shrugged,

“Just cold.”

His jaw set with a click, and that soft purr became a warning growl,

“That’s one,” he held up his finger, “The next lie will cost you that towel, pretty girl.”

You stared at him blankly, trying to find a way through this labyrinth he had — apparently — custom built for you, sending you down twists and turns and dead ends as if he knew exactly how you’d try to steal back some control. But every way out seemed like a worse fate than simply allowing yourself to trust him. Nevertheless, you tried again. 

“I am cold, and I’m tired. It’s been a long day, John,” you sighed, shifting towards him, trying your best to take back the lead to his strange dance, “C’mon, don’t you wanna take me to bed?”

You reached out a hand and snaked it under the hem of his shirt, exploring untouched skin, letting your nails scrape through a dark patch of thick hair, right above his waistband. Your fingers got as far as his navel before he snapped. 

The cold absence of him ripping the towel away from you felt worse than you expected it to. In fact, you hadn’t actually taken him seriously. You protested, indignant,

“Hey! What —-“

“You think this is the same game you’ve always played,” he snarled, throwing the towel away and shoving you to your knees, his hold crushing and cruel on the nape of your neck, “You think, because those lads will eat any scraps you throw to them,” he nodded behind you, gesturing toward his men only a thin wall away, “That I’ll be satisfied with a taste, hm?”

His tone was mocking, and there was an undercurrent of darkness that lingered between each word like a warning, like the red of a poisonous berry that shouldn’t be picked and yet sagged ripe and ready on its stem. 

“You always get your way with them, don’cha? You know that a bit of skin and a little attention will keep them on you for days. And they reward you for it. They text you at all hours of the fuckin’ night, beggin’ you for just one more look, one more bite,” his mouth was right next to your ear, bending over you, casting his shadows across your face, and all you could do was kneel there, fully under his control, unable to move against his immense strength, “But, that’s not what I want.”

Your eyes dared to slant over to the growing monster that pressed its warm body against his shorts, hanging heavy and stretching the fabric, and you dared to hiss at him, even in your compromised position, using his title like a knife, aiming to scrape him with it,

“Seems like you do, Captain.”

He smirked, you could feel his smile against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, and you could see his almost infernal expression out of the corner of your eye. Even though you were trying to get under his skin, it made you feel like you were playing right into his hand yet again, helpless to his will. 

He stood up, never letting go of his grip on your neck, pinching the muscle like you were a caught rabbit, his writhing prey. Then, with a force that made your stomach drop, Price shoved your cheek into the crotch of his shorts, bringing you face to face with the outline his swelling shaft. Your nose was buried in the fabric, and you could smell the soap of his detergent as well as the musk of his sex that throbbed underneath. 

Then, he rucked down his waistband to show himself to you, pressing his length along your cheek, the softness of his skin surprising you just as much as the size of his thick, hefty prick. 

He held your neck in one hand and his cock in the other as he began to stroke himself up and down, letting your temple  and cheekbone feel the slip of his velvet foreskin. You could hear soft, wet clicking sounds as he coated himself in his own fluid, using the clear, dripping pearls as lube. 

You tried to move your jaw to taste him, eager to know if the heady, intoxicating smell of his skin matched his precome, hungry for his reaction to your mouth. But he stopped you, tightening his grip and scolding you like a naughty pet,

“My body wants your body, love. I’ll admit that,” he chuckled, not halting his lurid, jerking pulls, using your cheek for friction, “But I want more. I don’t want a taste. Or a bite. I won’t be satisfied.”

He frowned a bit, shrugging off his confession before he continued, 

“I want you to trust me. Trust that I’ll be here for you, that I’ll always be here. So,” he tugged on your flesh, forcing you to meet his fiery gaze, “Tell me what you thought.”

What were you supposed to say? That you were insecure about your looks? That you weren’t sure if he’d approve? That you were either too much or not enough and you weren’t sure which?

You turned your mouth as much as you could, trying to at least lick along the warm underbelly of his rod, aching to taste him, but he jerked you back into place, laughing at the disappointment on your face,

“Lips to yourself, love. Only good girls get fed.”

You rolled your eyes up to him, and you knew you had to make a choice. He was joking, but it was a façade. He was using it like a shield, waiting to see if you would actually relinquish your control or if you’d cut and run like you did with everyone else. 

So, you decided to trust him, giving him what he wanted, a full confessional on burning, bent knees, eyes cast up at your new master, praying for his communion, your tongue eager for his body and his blood and his love.

You made sure his eyes were locked on yours as you spoke softly, unflinching in your resolve,

“I was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. I needed you to want me. I was afraid.”

The relief that washed over him was nearly palpable. His whole body responded to your admission, all of that tightly-wound uncertainty melting away in the heat of your submission to him. 

“That’s it. Good,” his voice was heavy with his relief, and he almost seemed like he was slipping into a trance, rubbing himself in steady, long strokes, shuddering against your cheek, “And what now, hm? You want me to let you go? Let you free? Or are you gonna let me in?”

You didn’t break your eye contact with him, but you wavered, sure of your decision but overwhelmed when you had to say it out loud. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the slick mess he was forging between them, trying to find some comfort. You took a breath and told him,

“I’ll let you in, John.”

His throat held back a long, low groan, the pleasure of your surrender or the pleasure of his hand forcing it from his chest. You weren’t sure which. 

His grip loosened on your neck, but he didn’t let go. His voice was barely above a whisper as he told you his rules in hushed, broken phrases, holding himself back from the edge,

“You belong to me, now, sweetheart. You might be in charge at your bloody job, but everything else is mine. Do you hear me?”

You were going to answer him, you’d even planned to tack on a cheeky little yes, sir, just to show him you were playing along, but he had other plans. Always a step ahead. Before you could even breathe to speak, he pressed the tender head of his cock between your lips and deep into the warm hollow of your mouth, his wide form forcing your jaw to fall open to let him inside of you. It shocked you to be taken that way, not roughly but so certainly, with such surety, as if there was no other choice but for him to take you. You shifted, but with his knuckles tight against the base of your skull, you couldn’t retreat. Other than lolling your tongue along the body of his shaft, or swallowing against its drooling tip, you were powerless. 

His face twisted into a hungry sort of smear full of teeth and lips, grimacing at the feeling of being surrounded by you. Every inch that he drove himself deeper, his breathing would halt until at last, as he buried himself into your clenching throat, his lungs had emptied, and he was sighing with a ragged, guttural cry. 

“When you’re with me…” He continued his dark promises to you, the words choppy and broken, only threaded loosely together between panting gasps, “Even when I’m a fuckin’ world away, I promise that I will take care of you,” he pet your cheek with the softest affection, admiring you like a work of art, “All of you. You will sleep when I say. You will eat when I say. You will come when I say,” he smiled a little more cruelly at that, watching your eyes widen. And, as you began to wish for air, planting your palms against his firm, muscular thighs, ready to push away, he looked down at you with a lurid satisfaction, “You will breathe when I say.”

You were choking. You could hear yourself in the quiet of his room, your throat gurgling, full of your own viscous drool, escaping where it could along the stretched line of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. You felt the flare of panic rise up within you, and you tried to pull away in earnest, writhing against his grip, trying to escape from him and failing, turning your body in shameful futility. 

Price bent his face toward you, folding himself to whisper his lustful words, making sure your eyes met his, pressing your nose into his soft pubic hair,

“You. Breathe. When. I. Say.”

He kept himself contorted like that, keeping his face low to watch your eyes, to witness your struggle, and you felt hot tears burn down your face, the effort overcoming you. But, you wanted to show him that you could obey. You wanted to trust him, to show him that you were willing to give him your freedom, knowing that only he was worthy of such a gift. So, you swallowed deeply, watching as it made his eyes flutter, and again, and again. Over and over, you closed your throat around his steel-hard length, choking when it became too much. 

Still, he kept you there. As brave as you’d been with partners in the past, even those moments were fully eclipsed by this one. You had never even thought that you might be capable of holding your breath for so long. 

You were sobbing wholeheartedly now, your eyes reflecting your desperation, tears pooling and spilling across your face. He was watching you cry, whispering breathless nothings, soft words of encouragement,

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ good. My good girl.”

Just as purple and blue spots began to obscure your vision, he pulled himself out of you in a terrible, wet departure, leaving you clutching his hips, sobbing into his belly, watching his hard cock pounding, swaying at full height, swollen with blood and eager for its finish. You could feel those same soft, dark hairs matting down as your tears soaked into them. He ran his fingers through your hair, keeping the fallen strands out of your face, still holding you at your nape, but just to comfort you. 

You imagined him letting go, and you felt… sad, somehow. He would have to release you at some point, but you were in such a submissive state, just the idea of him leaving you without his guiding hand was too much to bear. 

Your cries turned to a twisted kind of grief, and when he heard your tone change, he dropped to the floor with you, holding you to his chest, rocking you back and forth, shushing you and talking to you in a hushed voice,

“Shh, baby. Tell me to stop. Tell me…”

You grasped at him wildly, uncontrolled, holding onto whatever part of him you could, shaking your head,

“No, no. Don’t — don’t let me go. Please, I can’t… I need… I need you to touch me.”

You planted one of your hands across his, covering the one that gripped your neck, pressing it like a plaster, like it was keeping a wound healed, like it was a dam in front of your frothing, vengeful river; it was a lifeline and you were adrift. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, “I’m not gonna let you go. I’m right here. Shh. Shh. It’s alright. I’m here. C’mon. Come with me.”

He lifted you, helping you walk on sore, shaking legs, your nerves sparking across your skin. Then, with his hand still firmly planted against your neck, he led you like a shepherd with his lamb, marching you to his bedroom. As you approached the bedframe, your thighs hit the mattress, and Price guided you forward until your body lay flat against it. The duvet was cool and smooth against your belly and breasts, and you tucked your arms into yourself, looking for warmth. 

You felt John plant gentle kisses across your back, trailing them down your spine, and after the overstimulation you had just gone through, even his lightest touch was electric. 

Your tears had stopped, but still you panted, sniffling, trembling from the shock of his careful kisses, waiting for whatever would come next. 

You felt his hips press against your exposed ass cheeks, his shorts now missing, and all you could sense was his warm, furry skin. You sighed into it, happy for the connection. 

“Spread your legs,” he commanded.

You complied immediately, all of your tortured resistance gone from you now, ready to trust him to take care of you. 

The unknown was what made your belly swarm with butterflies, and as you waited for his next move, your mind raced with possibilities. 

Would he be cruel? Would he punish you for your lying when he had first taken you in? His hand might strike your tender flesh, slapping your ass and leaving red, angry marks. 

Would he be lustful? Your mind fed you imaginary moments where he would press his cock into your pussy, skipping any foreplay, simply using you like his warm, wet toy. You thought that he wanted more, something more intimate, but if not, you would let him. You were his to use. At this point, you were so pliant, so open to his will, he could use you over and over and you would take him. It was a dark confidence you had never known until now. 

Perhaps he would simply stop. Maybe he perceived you as weak, as if you couldn’t take what he wanted to give you. He would simply comfort you, pitying you for your wrecked state. It was this thought that turned your stomach. Surely, he knew you better than that. John Price was not the pitying type. 

As the base of his cock lay nestled in the cleft of your ass, still as hard as a stone, his long shaft was shoved up against his lower abdomen, pulsing with unslaked desire. Then, as he settled himself, pleased with your spread display, John began to slip the very tips of his fingers into your pussy. He was just feeling your softness, plucking at your petals, laying them open with his hand, using your own wetness to paint your lips and the tight muscle of your hole, preparing you for more. 

His voice broke the trance that his touch had put you in, 

“It kills me when I have watch you putting yourself through hell. You are so strong, but you deserve to have everything you want. Everything you need, I’ll make sure you have it. I promise.”

He was so sincere, and his voice sounded so sure. It was like he was sharing an old memory, something he knew by heart. 

“John, please…” You whispered, feeling yourself slipping, slowly becoming untangled by his touch. You needed more, but you had no words. You could barely concentrate, and your mind was swimming in a liminal space, trapped in a loop of mounting bliss. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you felt your tears return, and although you were desperate for something, you couldn’t find the answer. 

“Shh, shh, shh. You’re alright,” John rubbed your back with his free hand, smoothing your skin with his warm touch, “Does my pretty girl need to come?”

You nodded, daring to glance over your shoulder at him as he worked on you, his finger now sinking deeper into you, gently prodding your walls in long, aching circles. His other fingers were cradling your folds, slipping between them with each undulating thrust, brushing beside the swelling body of your clit and making you throb with need. 

He felt it, and you saw a warm smile spread across his face,

“I can feel you needin’ me. So wet for me. Fightin’ me so bloody hard. Thought I’d be wantin’ you forever. Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of havin’ you under me like this? Fuck, I need you so badly, baby.”

You felt his grip tighten on your neck again as he pressed you deeper into the soft mattress, his prying hand picking up the pace. His thick finger finally slipped down to the knuckle of his fist. As he fucked you on his hand, you could hear your body’s slick as it softened for him, submitting to his power just as you had done, your body at peace with your mind. 

He pressed a second finger beside his first, twisting them together, curling the tips to rub you from the inside, making you feel the deep ache of your orgasm building within your belly. 

You tried to find more friction, rocking your hips against the bed, squeezing your legs together, needing more but completely helpless to his pace and pressure. 

Price stopped, pushing his fingers right into the tender flesh of your neck as a warning,

“Open,” he shoved your foot away, spreading them for you, “You keep fighting and fighting… fine. I’ll give you something to fight for, hm?”

You tried to twist your knees together again, but his legs stood apart, holding you open. Then, you felt his threat. He put the head of his heavy prick against your greedy hole, dipping it into your wetness like a seal into warm, melting wax.

“C’mon,” he squeezed your nape hard, once, just enough to get your attention, “You wanna drive? Fuckin’ drive, love. You think you can fuck yourself better than I can fuck you? Prove it.”

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at him, watching the muscles ripple and pop in his forearm that held you down, unwilling to give you full control, and yet allowing you to set the pace. You saw his other hand rub the curve of your hip, dropping lower to grope your ass, egging you on. 

Unwilling to beg, you thrust yourself down onto his shaft, gasping from his girth, only managing to fit half of him inside of you, physically unable to go any deeper on your own. But, you tried again, lifting away, sinking back, repeating your movements and reaching between your legs to rub your clit as you fucked him.

But, it wasn’t enough. You felt so close to the edge, and yet you couldn’t tumble over it, losing your rhythm, chasing it down, too weak to reach the peak you knew was right within your grasp. 

You grunted in frustration, and his cruel laugh made you turn back towards him again. 

He shrugged,

“I thought you wanted to be in charge. Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You gasped, trying to catch your pleasure and feeling it slip from you yet again, humping your hips against the bed shameless and desperate. 

“Tch,” Price gripped the inside of your ass cheek, shaking it and rolling your soft flesh in his hand, “Too bad, love. I wanted to give it to you. Shame, really.”

“John! Please,” you caved, sobbing out a short moan, begging him impatiently. 

“Please, what?” His question came just as he decided to press himself deeper into your body than you had been able to go, sinking into you like a hand into a glove, a tight, all-encompassing fit. 

You whined, rolling your fingers over your clit faster, feverish, ready for relief, 

“Please make me come.”

“You will come…” He stretched you, giving you no warning, the sharp feeling of his invasion making you catch your breath, “When I bloody tell you to.”

Then, as if to prove it to you, he stuffed his length into your pussy, never pulling back very far, choosing instead to massage you with his cock, using his base to stretch you wide before rolling away. The sensation overwhelmed you, and his size made your mind go blank. Any words that formed in your mind turned to whining cries of pleasure on your tongue.

There were no sounds of lewd pounding of flesh on flesh. All of Price’s work was deep and wet, churning inside of you like a volcanic sea, hot and untamed. He, however, made plenty of noise, praising you in every way he knew how, speaking in half-clipped phrases, losing his sentence to a groan of relief as he fed himself to you, filling your pussy like a hungry mouth. 

You felt yourself getting closer by the moment. Each grinding thrust was pushing you ever nearer to that gleaming, crackling fuse. He had lifted you, unintentionally, unable to understand the effect of his strength, and your toes could barely scrape the floor. You could feel your sacral core clenching around him like a delicate vice, grabbing for his cock, trying to hold him within your belly, some twisting grip of nature used to ensure that his creamy come ended up where it belonged, soaking into your womb.

Your clenching made him pause, which, in turn, caused you to cry out to him, wordlessly babbling, begging for him to return, to keep his pace. 

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart. Don’t you dare come,” his voice was like rattling brimstone, smoky and burning within his throat. 

“Please…” You whispered, unable to lift your raspy, keening voice. 

With shallow, teasing thrusts, Price used his cockhead to softly pop in and out of your soaked hole, swollen from being well-fucked. Just hearing a vibrator would have sent you over the edge at that point, and you fought him, trying to get any sort of power at all, rolling your body like a caught snake. 

“Stop,” he said curtly, “Stop fighting. Be still.”

You quieted yourself down, breathing heavy, sweating into his sheets, shivering like you had a fever, burning up from the inside out. 

For the first time, you felt his hand leave your neck, and his fingers twisted themselves into your hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, carefully, he lifted you by your head, forcing your back into a vicious arch, letting your breasts hang freely, your arms trying to balance you, mostly worthless since Price had full control of your torso in this position. 

His free hand slid around your front, groping you wildly, plucking your nipples and filling his palms with the meat of your breast. Then, he replaced your fingers with his own, pressing beside your sensitive clit, rolling it softly in long, firm strokes. 

You heard yourself make a new sound, one you’d never made, an animal’s grunting, something reckless and feral. 

Then, Price took up his stretching rhythm again, fully in charge of everything you were sensing. To you, he may as well have been in control of your mind. It was no use to you; you were at his mercy and it was everything you’d ever wanted. 

“Do you trust me?”

Your thoughts swam, unable to even consider anything but the truth, and amongst all of your vocalized ecstasy, you managed to reply,

“Yes.”

“Don’t come. Keep it. Just like that.”

“J-John!”

“Wait, wait, wait… good girl. Good.”

“Ohhh, fuck…”

His next words seemed barely human, snarled at you through bared teeth,

“Now. Come for me. Come f— fuck! Holy fuck.”

When you felt him spill into you, you had almost no control left over your own orgasm. Your heart felt like it had leapt into your throat, and all you could experience was your shining, explosive finish. You heard no sound, and your eyes went white, rolling back into your head. You couldn’t breathe, or scream, and if it wasn’t for John’s immense body holding you tight, you would have crashed into his bed, all used up.

His orgasm was as long as yours was, and he finished in slow, fearsome thrusts, burying his head into you as deep as he could reach, smearing your lips with your mixed fluids, caring nothing for the mess. 

“C’mere, love. Come to me,” Price held you to his chest, finally pulling himself from you, holding you as close as he could, laying beside you in a sweaty, spent tangle of arms and legs. 

You lay your head on his chest, catching your breath, only to tumble into a dreamless sleep with him, your body exhausted from your effort. 

When you woke up the next day, you could feel him all over you. He had left you alone in the bed, and yet your skin and bones kept his imprints. You could feel the ghost of his fingertips on your neck, and you were sore in places you weren’t sure how you could be. Everything was a wet mess, and just when you worried about how you’d cross the apartment without yesterday’s outfit, you saw that John had left you a note. 

Training day on base. I'll be back tonight. Dinner on me. Wear this. xx

Under the note, Price had laid out his favorite dress of yours, a blue satin slip of a thing, and (with the tags still on) you found a matching lace set of bra and panties in the same pretty color, just your size. You couldn’t see the price, but when you searched for the brand online, you couldn’t help but blush. He'd spent more than just a pretty penny on this outfit. You couldn't help but notice that the delicate lace would show through the thin fabric of the dress, making little raised ridges where your nipples would be.

Whatever you’d just agreed to when you said you’d let John Price into your life was about to get very, very interesting. 

AO3 Link

[shortkingvince]

grim fluffus(important) withrrr ahmmm smut,,,

Hello there!! Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long to post this, I got possessed by Grim brainrot and went a little overboard. Hope you don't mind!

Irresistible

Warnings: Smut (no penetration), handjobs, whimpering men, very brief dacryphilia? (It's just tears in his eyes from the pleasure, I dare not hurt this babygirl....yet. /j), ungodly amounts of fluff, Grim being the victim of MC/Reader being a little shit (/j /aff), spoilers for Grim's real name, takes place after ending 3

Minors DNI

Gn reader

A comfortable silence spread through the air of your apartment, which you were now sharing with your lovely little reaper. The reaper in question had ended up all but dragging you into the bathroom to do his skincare routine with him, saying that his is probably more superior to yours, which definitely wasn't just an excuse to spend more time with you. Totally not. He isn't clingy, you're clingy. Totally. It couldn't have been because he was waiting at home all day for you to come back from work.

He made you follow his skincare routine (with your own products, of course), it was honestly impressive how he was able to do this every single day without fail. Though, despite the calm atmosphere it was a bit clear he was stressed, likely having overworked himself around the house due to not being used to having the option to relax. He had a tendency to be a workaholic, even before he gave up his whole job to be with you. This struck an idea in you, now you just had to convince him.

You had already been pretty close to him during the routine, but you had carefully been moving closer to him, not that you had to move much. Once you were close enough you gently put your hand on his, not wanting to suddenly overwhelm him with touch since he wasn't used to it just yet, watching his reaction carefully.

As you had suspected, his face had a bit of shock on it along with confusion, his cheeks turning a shade of pink as he questioned you.

“Why are you holding my hand? How are you supposed to do this without both of your hands? Stupid mortal.” He said, averting his gaze as he flushed a bit at your own. His blush only worsened as both of your hands lifted up to cup his face lovingly, tilting his head to look back at you.

“Am I not allowed to take a small break to admire my pretty little reaper?” you teased him, watching his cocky smile take place on his face. “I know I'm irresistible, but I'm sure you can wait until we're done,” he responded in his usual confident way despite all the pink he had on his face from the gentle touch. He couldn't help but slightly relax into it, the warmth contrasting against his cool skin like a calming spell.

Despite his words, he made no move to pull away. He couldn't help but crave your touch, even more so whenever you were away at work. In all honesty, he didn't want you to pull away, in fact, a part of his head was practically screaming at you to just kiss him already. It was something that frustrated him about you but in the best way possible, the way he could never tell just when or if you were going to kiss him, and sometimes he felt he'd have to just grab you by your clothes and pull you into it himself.

He couldn't help but feel a bit of tension from your gaze, not knowing what you were about to do or say. He waited with a bated breath, eyes widening slightly as your lips got closer….and closer…..and…you suddenly pulled away, a smirk and mischievous glint in your eyes as you started to do the rest of the routine, leaving Casper to practically gape at the audacity.

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Dumbass mortal, what in the nine hells was that for?”

“What was what for?”

“The…you know!”

“I don't, actually.”

Casper knew you were lying due to the smirk on your face. He grumbled as he averted your gaze once again, his face deeply reddening. “You…why did you pull away? I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“Did you want me to kiss you?” you replied to him, your teasing tone getting on his nerves while also making him far more flustered than before. He hated how you had him wrapped around your finger so easily.

“Obviously.” He had an exasperated expression, clearly having expected you to actually kiss him instead of leave him hanging. You laughed, making him a little more frustrated due to the embarrassment. As he attempted to open his mouth to speak, you suddenly got close again and put one hand on his waist, the other cupping his cheek as you did earlier as you pulled him in for a proper kiss. Anything he was going to say died on his tongue as he quickly relaxed into the kiss and his frustrations melted away.

As you pulled back his body instinctively tried to chase your lips, wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in everything you could give, wanting to give into his greediness for you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, but felt so good all at the same time. His heart fluttered in his chest as if he were a mortal human with a lovesick crush.

At first, Casper thought any type of relationship was a waste of time, that a reaper didn't have time to be close to anyone. He never understood why mortals spent their time caring about others. That was before he fell for you, and when he fell, he fell hard. How a mere—no, not mere, there was nothing mere about you. A mortal like you being capable of stealing his heart with no chance of getting it back made his head reel, but in all the right ways.

He was soon snapped back to reality as your voice rang in his ears, lifting up the lovely veil of his thoughts he had gotten lost in.

“Grimmy, you good?” You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you used the embarrassing nickname. “Earth to Grim!”

He narrowed his eyes as his expression became frustrated again, sighing. “I told you that name is embarrassing to hear you say in person. You're doing this on purpose.”

“Maybe,” you said with a breathy laugh that made Casper's heart speed up, you were irresistible. So irresistible it frustrated him that you practically bullied him all the time. Maybe bullying is an exaggeration, but he doesn't think so, he thinks it perfectly describes just what a little menace you were towards him.

“You know, Cas, I have an idea. It could help you relax,” you suddenly suggested. Casper arched a brow, awaiting your proposal. “Continue.” He put his hand on his cheek as he waited for you to speak.

“So…you know how I mentioned back when we were doing video calls that I could help wash your entire body? We could take a bath together. After all, it would save water.” You winked at the end of the sentence, practically making Casper go wide-eyed at the thought.

“And here I thought you had forgotten that conversation. My mistake. I completely underestimated just how much you want to see me naked instead of just imagining it.” He smirked, his confidence seeping through once again.

“Maybe I do.”

“...Well I didn't expect you to just admit it.”

“Besides, I can tell you've been overworking yourself around the house today. It could help you relax,” you added, chuckling at the fact he got a little surprised at you practically admitting to imagining him naked.

“And just how is that supposed to make me relax? It seems like it would do the exact opposite.”

“And why would it do the exact opposite?”

“You know why.”

“No, no, please inform me, little reaper”

His face went red, he was so sick of your teasing. So sick of it, yet craved it at the same time. “Well, I….uh…”

Your gaze softened at his hesitance, cupping your hand to his cheek again as you spoke. “We don't have to if you don't want to. I'd never do anything you aren't comfortable with, it won't upset me.”

He relaxed at your words, knowing you were telling the truth. “I'm not uncomfortable with it, I'm just not very experienced with this kind of thing.”

“Wow, I never knew.”

“Really?”

“No, it was sarcasm.”

“...”

“Right, sorry. You're just so fun to tease.”

“I…might hate you.”

You laughed, knowing that he couldn't lie and therefore was having to resort to wording it with unsure language. It was just another thing you loved about him. “So, is that a yes to the bath, or?” You questioned, just to completely make sure. He nodded in response, albeit still a bit flustered at the thought of something so intimate, wanting to go through with it.

A bit of time passed as the water was finally at a temperature that you both wouldn't complain about. You looked over at Casper, a grin on your face. “Are you gonna bathe with your clothes on?” You teased him, only getting a scoff in response as he slowly started to take his clothes off. Of course, he took notice that you weren't exactly undressing at the same time as him.

“...I can't be the only one getting undressed if we're bathing together. I am absolutely not bathing with you if you try to bathe in your clothes.”

“Aww, you wanna see me naked that bad?”

“Huh?! You're the one who suggested the bath in the first place! Gods, you're going to make me lose my mind at this rate.”

“You didn't deny it.”

“Just take your clothes and get in the damn bath.” He responded quickly, getting in the bath once everything was off before you had time to tease him further.

The bath wasn't too spacious, but it was enough to fit both of you if you positioned it right. That's how you now had a red-faced Casper, his back against your chest as he rested the back of his head on your shoulder. It didn't take him long to relax despite his nerves from before, the warmth of the water and your body against him was soothing and made his head feel fuzzy along with his heart.

You washed his body gently, taking in the content sigh he let out from your touch. He unconsciously leaned backwards into your chest, wanting to be even closer to you, as if that were even possible.

Casper wasn't used to being touched, this was just a known fact, but… despite the unfamiliarity of it, he felt…safe. Safe with you, safe in your arms. It was addicting to him, he had never felt like this with anyone before, but then you ended up turning that all upside down. Or maybe…you turned it upright, allowing him to finally be able to see from a more comfortable perspective. Whichever one it was, he loved it. He needed more of it, more of you.

Of course, with how Casper was, he had to open his mouth to say something despite all the fuzziness. “We're taking a shower after this by the way, baths aren't exactly for actually getting clean.”

“Ooh, we? How bold, Grimmy.”

“We are literally pressed up against each other naked right now. A shower is far less ‘bold’. Besides, you're in the bath with me right now and unless you wish to sleep on the floor I suggest you wash the bath residue off of yourself afterwards.” He looked at you once he finished saying that, a satisfied glint in his eye.

Of course, that glint in his eye turned to surprise as you grabbed him by his chin and made him look at you, just as you did earlier, but this time there was a bit more of a gentle sternness to it that made his heart leap in his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” You questioned, amused by the way his breath sped up when you grabbed him. He couldn't get himself to tear his eyes away from your gaze, the way you were looking down at him made him squirm a bit.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You teased, relishing in just how easy it was to make him speechless. “Just shut up and kiss me again already, you fool,” he said suddenly, frustration clear in his voice once again as he suppressed a whine from escaping his throat. There was no way he was about to whine and beg for you to kiss him.

It felt like his breath was stolen from him when you finally kissed him, his mind blanking again as all he could think about were your lips against his, your hands still roaming over his body as you washed him. It felt like his skin was on fire from how hot everything felt, the water, your skin, his own blood, it felt like too much and not enough all at the same time.

Just when he thought that would be it, he suddenly felt your tongue prodding at the entrance of his mouth, silently asking him for permission. He opened his mouth to give you access, breathy gasps leaving him as he felt your tongue dance against his. His mind raced, unable to think about anything other than your tongue until he felt your hands wander up to his chest.

Casper couldn't help the muffled noise he made as he felt your hands, his chest feeling like sparks were being set off as you ran your soaped hands against the entirety of his chest. He felt embarrassed by that noise alone, but the noise that escaped his mouth once you squeezed his chest made him rethink all of his life choices. He had whined, right into your mouth, and not even quietly.

He felt his heart drop when you pulled away, desperately wanting to chase your lips. A part of him was afraid you didn't like it, until he saw the breathless look on your face. Oh, right. Mortals need air. Plus, your expression told him all he needed to know, it practically proved to him that you weren't suddenly disgusted with him, as if that were even possible. He knows any noise that escapes his mouth is like a gift from the heavens, he just got a bit worried for a moment.

Despite the pleased expression on your face from the desperate whine he made before, there was still a gentle and caring side to it. “Is this okay?” You checked in with him, wanting to make sure he gave verbal consent to all of this, along with making sure he was comfortable. He nodded fervently, his gaze going half-lidded. “Yes, it is. Just do that again, fuck.”

You continued to tease and squeeze at his chest, leaving a trail of kisses around his jaw. His breathing only got faster and more desperate, the poor man sensitive to every little touch you did. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. Maybe you could explore this sensitivity of his later when you weren't in such a small space.

Eventually, you started to trail your hand down, watching Casper’s face carefully for any signs of discomfort. You ran your hand slowly, all the way down to his thigh. His breath hitched as he felt your hand squeeze his thigh, suddenly extremely aware of just how close your hand was to his dick. He hadn't even paid enough attention before to realize just how hard he was, the realization heavily embarrassed him, but he wanted you to keep going.

His thighs trembled, causing you to glance at him again in case he was uncomfortable. The desperation on his face told you all you needed to know. Gods, he was gorgeous, he was irresistible. You let your hand wander to his inner thigh, your hand dangerously close to where he wanted you most. Yet, despite the desperation being clear, you still wanted to make sure one last time that this is what he wanted.

“Is it okay if I–” “Nine Hells, Sunshine, just touch me already before I leave the damn ba–holy shit…” Your touch interrupted what he was about to say, the feeling of your hand finally on his cock making him completely forget what he was about to say. He arched his back into your chest in surprise, the cutest gasp leaving his mouth at the sudden stimulation. He had just expected you to continue teasing him, he didn't think you'd automatically start stroking him the moment he told you to touch him.

“Relax,” you held him gently with your other hand, still gently squeezing his chest as you pulled him even closer to you, if that was even possible. “I've got you, just relax.” At that, Casper all but fell into you, his hand making a pathetic attempt to cover his sounds. The hand that was on Casper’s chest went up to his wrist, gently pulling it away from his mouth. “I want to hear you, love, please don't hide such pretty sounds from me,” you told him, a shiver going up his spine at your words.

You teased the tip of his cock, the action rewarding you with a choked moan from the white haired reaper. He felt like he was gonna go insane from your touch, his hands trying to find something to hold onto. Noticing this, you gently held his hand instead of going back to teasing his chest, his hand giving yours an appreciative squeeze. “Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Sunshine, please, please…” he begged, not even knowing what he was begging for, he just didn't want your hands to leave him.

“I've barely even touched you and you're already this desperate?” At your words, he whines, shooting you a slight glare before quickly getting caught off guard by your hand tightening momentarily against his cock. “It's not a bad thing, quite the opposite, in fact. Just relax, my little reaper,” you whispered in his ear, a shiver going down his spine.

All of his senses were going crazy, unable to think about anything but you. He struggled to not buck his hips so he wouldn't get the floor wet, it was becoming increasingly difficult the more you touched him. “A-ah, just…just like that…Sunshine…” his soft moans were like music to your ears, his voice was always so beautiful.

You sped up your hand a bit, letting out a small laugh as he yelped from the sudden change, his back arching into your chest again. “Don't…haah, don't laugh…while your hand is on my–ah…uhnn…l-let me get my words out, dammit…Nine Hells, your hand…a thousand curses upon you…I– ah…” He was just barely getting the words out, struggling to keep his mind on track enough to form a full sentence. His cock twitched in your hand, a whimper leaving his mouth as your thumb circled the tip before going back to stroking and squeezing his shaft.

He held onto your hand tighter, eyes closing tightly as he failed to suppress all the moans flying out of his mouth. His eyes began to form tears from how sensitive he was, but when you slowed down to check on him his eyes shot right back open. “Don't you dare stop, don't you–ahn…don't you dare…please…please, just go faster already!” His hips finally bucked into your hand before you could even pick up the speed, his mind so lost in how close he was that he couldn't care less about the water hitting the floor…that would be a problem to clean up later. For now, you focused on Casper.

His breath was rapid as you stroked him faster, his eyes fluttering closed once again as he leaned into you, both from the pleasure and for the comfort of feeling you so close to him. “Ah, fuck…fuck, Sunshine, I'm so close, I'm so–Nine Hells, I can’t–fuck–I can't much longer–” His voice was strained from how close he was, his legs threatening to close from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. He practically yelped when you momentarily stopped holding his hand to hike one of his legs over the side of the tub, increasing the speed and pressure of your strokes as your free hand held his hand once more.

By this point his moans had increased further in volume, you wouldn't be surprised if you got a noise complaint later. You didn't mind though, not when you were busy paying attention to the way your reaper shuddered at your very touch, the way he reacted to each stroke. You deeply kissed him, feeling him immediately return it wildly, as if he had craved it the entire time.

He whimpered into your mouth, the way he was so close made him shake. When you pulled away a whine escaped his throat, his face full of desperation. The way you looked at him made his heart flutter, your gaze was full of both love and lust, he could see how you enjoyed watching him lose himself to the pleasure, and he couldn't get enough of it.

“S-so close…I don't think– I don't think I can hold on much longer, Sunshine, I–” his sentence was cut off by a moan escaping his lips as you gently bit his neck. “You don't have to, my little reaper. You can cum anytime you like, so go ahead,” you said, whispering in his ear. At that, his entire body gave a shudder as he moaned once more, eyes rolling back as he got permission. His orgasm hit him hard, practically gripping onto what he could of you for dear life. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm until it was over, holding him close.

He laid there against you for a moment, catching his breath. He was exhausted, his eyes fighting to stay open. “I'm guessing we need to save the shower for later?” you asked, only slightly joking since you felt he couldn't really stand properly right now due to his tiredness.

“...I suppose it can wait.”

“You up for snuggling in the bed together?”

“Obviously.”

“Alright, I'll help get you to the bed.”

“Wait.”

“Huh?” Your head tilted in confusion as Casper opens his eyes. “I haven't returned the favor…” he said with a bit of concern, not wanting to leave you unsatisfied despite how tired he was. He was shocked when you suddenly started to lightly laugh, confusion evident across his features. “Casper, there's no need for that. You're tired, you need to rest. Besides, pleasuring you was more than enough to satisfy me, you don't have to worry. Let's get to bed, okay?”

“...Okay. If you say so. I'll make it up to you after I rest, though, even if you say that.”

Casper was a stubborn reaper. You knew you wouldn't be able to convince him that he doesn't have to ‘return any favors’, so as long as he rests before trying anything it'll be fine. You dried both you and him off as you both got into comfortable clothes, helping him get to the bed.

Once the two of you were on the bed, you wrapped your arms around Casper, threading your fingers through his hair. He was more relaxed than usual, practically melting into your touch as he snuggled into your chest. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, comfortable and safe in your arms, and there was no place he'd rather be.

[tojirings]

to yield

pairing: toji x reader

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: toji's the world-class fighter who trains in your best friend's gym, and you're the all-rounder employee who has a crush on him.

alternatively, mma!toji wants you to stop pining for him, and you finally listen.

[ angst + fluff, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (but only initial!! 😑😑), toji's almost always a little mean whenever he turns u down, nosy as FAWKKK bff satoru, the L word, mentions of mma-related injuries, jealousy, eventual redemption ]

To yearn for Toji is light work. 

Pining after him is as easy as making up workout trivia just to get a reaction from him that isn’t a neutral quirk of his lips or a dismissive tilt of his head. You’re pretty sure you’re going overboard with said lies (the proof being you having to approach Toji without Satoru in earshot just so the latter wouldn’t burst out laughing), but Toji doesn’t seem to think so.

He’s either very clueless and actually believes you, or he’s just tolerant of your “fact” of the day despite being annoyed to death with you.

“Now where the hell did you hear that?” he narrows his eyes at you, the ghost of an amused smirk lingering in his lips the longer you look at him in anticipation for his reaction.

“Just… somewhere! I heard it’s verified information,” you smile, nodding your head to delay the incoming wave of embarrassment that you have for yourself.

“Oh, okay,” Toji parts his lips, nodding tersely. “A reputable news site really said that my grip strength is stronger than a shark’s?”

“Mhmm. You’re the strongest, I bet,” you squeak, the tremble of your hands behind your back coming to a halt when Toji has to excuse himself because Satoru hollered at him from the other side of the gym.

You’re not ready at all to confess to Toji.

Every week, from Monday to Saturday, Toji comes into your best friend’s gym with a scowl on his face as if Satoru personally provoked him one way or another (read: he did), within the window of 9 to 10 AM. Only his left hand would be occupied by his gym bag, which he leaves to you for safekeeping at the front desk instead of the locker room, because Toji would rather punch himself in the gut than to deal with overeager fanboys asking him about his fights.

Additionally, every week from Monday to Saturday, you come to the gym at 7 AM sharp, partially to clock in — but mostly to walk to the expensive coffee shop down the block to buy Toji his drink from your own pocket. Between 9 to 10 AM, Toji saunters into the gym and gives you his bag, to which you take with open arms.

Also, every week, from Monday to Saturday, you make sure that you're Toji’s first interaction of the day.

The routine you have with him (and not the other way around because he’s definitely not as involved with you than you are with him) starts with you giving him a wildcard drink that the barista recommended, then Toji either scrunching his nose in disgust or him humming in something a little bit more pleasant than disgust, then him later thanking you before giving you his standard response.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” he’d say, his brows soft yet scrunched in the middle. (In other words: I don’t like you back so you don’t have to do this for me at all.)

“But I want to,” you’d reply, your smile small yet unperturbed. (In other words: I like you and I want to do this for you regardless, but a large part of me hopes that you’ll like me back.)

It’s no secret that you have a crush on Toji– not at all. Practically everyone in the gym knows how head-over-heels you are for him, and maybe even more than the fighter in question.

Satoru knows it, and he groans to no end whenever you pine for Toji like a little puppy. With each interaction you have with Toji that’s more desperate and maybe even a little more pathetic from your end than usual, Satoru wastes no time before offering to set you up with one of his friends, to which you always deny.

Shiu knows it too, and he tries to bring you up during sparring sessions with Toji that come after seeing your more helpless flirting attempts with the latter. Shiu’s actively trying to help you, Toji, and himself in the process because he can’t tell just how much secondhand embarrassment he can take before exploding.

The occasional opponents for practice matches know it. The night janitor knows it. God, even the delivery guy who’s only seen you ask Toji if he wanted water once knows it too.

Toji doesn’t like you, and while you know that fact wholeheartedly, you’ve come to realize that taking care of him in your own way is what completes your day even without getting anything in return. You know you’re bound to be sick of the one-sided yearning anyway, but while you’re not sick of fawning over Toji, you want to make the most of it.

You want to make the most of it until defeat sinks in.

Toji does not care for you — or atleast that’s what he tells everyone.

“I don’t have a crush on her. Never did,” Toji would say to Shiu every time they sparred, his words automatically flowing as soon as he sees the slightest hint of a smirk on his handler’s face. Shiu would always wave him away as usual (and that earns him an ungloved and unrestricted punch on the shoulder out of the ring), and it only makes Toji pout because even his friend doesn’t believe him.

“I don’t like girls who are so obvious,” he would mutter under his breath whenever Satoru nudges him to say thank you when you hold out a clean towel for him even if he didn’t ask. Toji appreciates the cold, fragrant, and personally-delivered-by-you towel anyway, but not enough to smack Satoru on the face with it.

“I don’t know why you’d think that,” Toji, without fail, would reply to anyone in the gym who mistakes him as your boyfriend. He’s gotten shameless with it to the point that he doesn’t mind if you hear it, but also without fail, he feels a little guilty every time.

Toji shouldn’t exactly feel guilty for not liking you back because he doesn’t owe it to you in the first place — or atleast that’s how he reasons with himself.

.

.

.

“I’m gonna stop liking him in a week, Toru. I swear. Cold turkey and everything.” 

“Yup. Sure you will, sport,” Satoru snorts at your drunken admission, kicking your knee lightly to stop you from your sulking.

He feels a little responsible for your feelings towards Toji because if only he didn’t introduce you to him, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. 

You would’ve still been his sole accountant for his gym who only dropped in every once in awhile to help manage the place whenever it was short-staffed and not this; not the multi-tasking beast that you are who’s not only his accountant, but this cheery and energized all-rounder gym employee you he didn’t ask you to be.

“No, no. I’m serious this time,” you mutter, your cheek squished to the table so you can limit yourself from saying anything else that could explain to Satoru why you were hellbent in accepting his offer to drink tonight. “I feel like a fool running after Toji.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly use the word-…”

“I know you think it.”

“Fine. I do think it, but you know I mean well!” Satoru surrenders, ruffling your hair as he takes note of keeping the windows down and driving as slowly as he legally could when he takes you home tonight. “You just aren’t Toji’s type, but that’s not a bad thing, y’know? 

There’s so much more on your mind, but you’re not in the mood to think of Toji any longer because the moment you do, you’ll succumb to him again.

You want to surrender, completely and irrevocably this time, but not without the final push so you could say that you did everything and you’ll have no regrets if Toji turns you down again — or rather, when Toji turns you down again.

“If it doesn’t work out,” you hiccup, burying your face to the bulk of Satoru’s sweater so you could smell the scent of clean laundry on him instead of imagining that you’re smelling Toji’s perfume out of nowhere in the packed club. “Go set me up with your friend.”

( ♡ ) 

Toji’s a little perplexed to see you at the front desk this morning.

After all, it was only last night when he saw you at the club, looking completely spent with your head buried in Satoru’s shoulder. Toji had only nodded to him when their eyes locked, mouthing that he’s with his friends so he can’t hang back with him, and Satoru let him go without any annoying remarks because he just gestures to your sleeping figure wordlessly.

Weirdly enough, Toji didn’t get to enjoy himself last night because his eyes kept wandering to your booth.

What’s even weirder now is that not only did you come to work looking fully recovered, but Toji also hangs back for a fraction of a minute right after giving you his duffel bag.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling tightly as he tries to figure out internally on why his feet wouldn’t move at all.

“Hi, Toji,” you reply back, staying still on your seat as you try to make conversation with him, but oddly enough, no ridiculous trivia could come out of your lips.

All it takes is Satoru whistling from the breakroom for you to snap into your senses, and for Toji to realize what was missing.

You have no drink for him today.

He’s not that bothered because that means he’s not subjected to whatever overly sweet or bitter monstrosity you give him, and that could only mean that he’ll be able to skip giving you his signature rejection.

It’s a good thing for you to start giving up on him, he convinces himself.

Toji tolerates you in a way that’s unbeknownst even to you, because in the first place, you’ve convinced yourself that the crush you have on the MMA fighter isn’t that serious.

Swiping your employee card to get him a free energy drink isn’t that serious in your own perspective, but when you overheard the conversation awhile ago between Toji and Shiu (with the latter convincing him that free energy drinks equated to a marriage proposal), you started doing it for everyone. You swipe your card over and over even for the fighters you barely know, but oddly enough, Toji’s eyes twitch whenever he sees his favorite grape-flavored drink in everyone’s hands.

Offering the Bluetooth connection code to Toji for him to play whatever he wants to on the speakers may be a little serious, but you convince yourself that it really isn’t when you accidentally eavesdrop on Satoru telling him that you totally have it out for him. What you do for Toji, you start to do for everyone; it’s telling with the way your speakers announce whose phone it’s connected to every thirty minutes, but not so much telling as to why Toji’s going extra hard sparring with his handler.

Toji does not care for you — or atleast that’s what you’ve convinced yourself.

Denying his fondness for you has almost been as easy as you tamping down your adoration for him, so much so that when a new guy at the gym randomly comes up to Toji and mentions your name, he responds automatically.

“We’re not together. Go ask…” her out — that’s what Toji’s supposed to say. “I don’t know, actually. I heard she’s taken, I think,” he rectifies himself, exiting the conversation before he could be bombarded with yet another question that revolved around you.

Or another question that would only make him realize that you having eyes for only him doesn’t equate to other people backing off from that mere fact alone.

Toji doesn’t like you, but oddly enough, the fact doesn’t bother you as much lately.

( ♡ ) 

You’re on your last leg of pining for Toji.

The shame of it all is finally getting to you, seeping into your deepest crevices that had thought for the longest time that you had a fighting chance with him. You don’t exactly regret yearning for Toji because after all, it had been in your own accord, no matter the risks you’ve already taken.

Maybe, just maybe, you could only go up from here. 

Maybe, because you and Toji hadn’t been friends to begin with when you pursued him, but on the other hand, it could be your ultimate downfall because perhaps right after he turns you down this time, you won’t be able to come back to anything.

There’s no foundation built between the two of you for you to fall back on, and while that’s surely devastating for you, it would only be a walk in the park for Toji.

You’re risking it all, even if you’re just as sure that nothing will come out of this, because you know you won’t come out unscathed — when Toji finally lets you down this time, harshly like you don’t mean anything to him, you’ll know then that you did everything in your power before you gave up on him.

The omamori in your hands that you’ve planned giving to him is your only salvation, because you get to grip it and remind yourself in real time that Toji’s seething at you.

He’s been stressed since the early morning fighting with his manager who had considered fixing up a match, and despite having resolved it with Choso already even before you came into his eyesight, Toji can’t shake off the anger from his body.

You’re the first person who comes into his space and into his mind, and you’re probably the last for the day (and maybe for an unforeseen amount of time) with the way he snaps at you.

“Y/N, can you just-“ Toji sharply inhales, clenching his jaw so tightly just so he can’t make his voice any louder. “Can you just please fucking stop?”

The omamori that you’re gripping tightly in your hands, the same one that you’ve gotten for blessings and protection for his fight in a month’s time, reminds you that Toji doesn’t want anything to do with you.

“I bet you’re a nice girl and all but I just don’t want you, okay?” he nods breathlessly as if asking you for confirmation. “I don’t like you like that.”

After a year and then some of yearning for Toji, you finally yield.

( ♡ ) 

You don’t come in for work.

Your absence is easily noticed because by this hour, you should’ve been glued to your seat by the front desk, ready to stash Toji’s gym bag under your desk.

He freezes by the entrance, brows knitted in confusion to see that your spot’s empty. He and his bag have been spoiled by you to the point that Toji feels uncharacteristically displaced when he walks past your desk, with his bag and without his drink.

“Huh,” Toji mutters to himself, strolling as casually as he could to the breakroom. He’s already had breakfast and he’ll be willing to have another one if it means lingering around you today, but to his surprise (and his surprise only), you aren’t there. “That’s weird.”

Toji jolts in place when he senses an agitating presence behind him that does little to conceal his proximity behind him, fists immediately clenching when he sees Satoru lean on the wall next to him.

“Jeez. I wonder who could’ve possibly said what to Y/N that made her call in sick today,” he enunciates slowly, enough for the sarcasm to steep in and his words to absorb into Toji’s thick skull.

“What are you-…” Toji interrupts himself when he finally gets what Satoru’s pertaining to, the skip of his chest being telling about the guilt that’s been stewing at the back of his head since last night.

“You weren’t exactly discreet about it, idiot. We were in the breakroom,” Satoru rolls his eyes, standing to his full height when he sees Toji falter. “Even Shiu heard you and he has the most effective noise-cancelling headphones known to man.”

Right on cue, Shiu comes out leisurely out of the room he had been peeking at two seconds ago. It takes only a second for him to register that Toji’s outside for whatever reason (he knows exactly why) before whistling in response, the shit-eating grin on his face apparent for Toji to remember.

“Woof,” he chuckles. “Don’t go biting my head now. I bet you’re a nice guy and all.”

It’s a build-up of things since this morning, and perhaps even from last night if he counts the immediate tinge of regret that stings him when he’s seethed his rejection at you, that truly throws Toji off his game.

Maybe it’s Satoru’s repeated teasing throughout the day and his targeted material of asking whether Toji was hungry or not, right within the timeframe wherein you usually ask him if he wants to join you for a meal.

Maybe it’s Shiu’s incessant mentioning of your name throughout his workout and the convenient reminder that Toji’s working out harder than he usually does, yet there’s no cold towel waiting for him.

But really, whatever it is that just adds up to the already excessive noise in Toji’s head concerning you, he knows now more than ever that absence your absence is noticeable.

His opponent for today’s practice match knows it. The day janitor knows it. Even the delivery guy who’s only been here twice knows it.

Toji simmers in guilt except he doesn’t want to admit it just yet, full well knowing that he would have texted you an apology — if only he had your number.

( ♡ ) 

You come back after three days.

After a year and some months’ worth of excessive reminders from Satoru, you finally take into realization that you don’t have to go to work in-person as often as you do. 

You didn’t know that all it would take for you to slow down and take your much-needed break is Toji by some way (read: rejecting you so harshly that you had been mute on your way home), and you haven’t predicted at all that there’ll be a day wherein you come to work not to pursue him.

Toji immediately notices your presence because even if you were no longer perched by the front desk, it was apparent that you’re already back judging by the way everyone– and literally everyone— in the gym seemed to look at ease somehow.

You’re at the other side of the gym with the light equipment that Toji barely frequents, and it’s the way you stand and smile that makes him pause.

It’s also the way that you smile at Choso that makes Toji announce his presence loudly.

“Let me help you there, buddy,” he claps behind the guy he recognizes as one of his fans (in all fairness, Yuuji isn’t as annoying as all the others who only come here just to get a glimpse of him), startling his already trembling figure.

Toji, without any hesitation yet a lot of frustration, easily grabs the heavy barbell mid-air that Yuuji’s struggling with before dropping it to the ground as roughly as he could.

It’s too light for him. Too easy, even. 

What’s heavier for Toji at the moment is the realization that you’ve given up on him and he has no one to blame but his emotional constipation, and maybe Choso who had pissed him off prior to his tantrum at you.

You did look at Toji and the mini scene he had created, but you immediately avert your eyes as soon as he fixates on yours.

He feels untethered this way, and if the lump on his throat is omniscient of the guilt that he’s feeling yet he’s unable to put into words, Toji wants you to notice him again, tirelessly and shamelessly like you did before.

He’s not in his usual zone, so much so that he barely makes any banter with Shiu who had been talking his ear off in letting Satoru have a go at him.

Toji’s too far out of his concentration, so much so that he agrees to spar with Satoru. 

He’s been pestering him for the longest time to get in the ring with him and Toji had always declined, even if he knows that your friend could take him on to some degree. He’s turned him down again and again for even just a light sparring session, especially when you were around, because he knows that he’s your friend.

He wouldn’t want to hurt Satoru if it hurts you, except now, the difference is that the latter really wants to hurt him and the former is out of his game to the point that he’ll resort to anything just to get your attention.

Toji lands a punch so hard that Satoru audibly croaks, holding his stomach even with the padding on. You’ve always been (read: used to be) the biggest fan of Toji even in practice matches, but now, instead of cheering for him, your eyebrows knit in worry instead–

Except your concern isn’t for him.

“Satoru? You okay?” you immediately come to his side by the ring, eyes inspecting him from head to toe.

Before he could even say that he is and that he’ll get back at Toji with twice the power, Toji pipes in from behind your friend, raising a gloved hand sheepishly.

“I’m not.” 

Toji shamelessly declares his apparent hurt, making everyone nearby audibly gawk at him for his audacity. You only blink at him in the surprise, trying your earnest to see on what part and capacity could Satoru, a non-professional, has possibly injured him.

“H-he punched me by the ear,” he stutters, the lie catching onto his teeth on the way out. The embarrassment of him making up an unbelievable lie is yet to hit, but Toji wouldn’t mind either way.

“What?! I barely even hit you in the face!” Satoru reacts, his face indescribable with the way he swats Toji on the arm in disbelief.

You snort at the scene in amusement, yet your eyes stay fixated on your friend.

“Yeah, yeah. I believe you, Toru.”

( ♡ ) 

True to his word, Satoru sets you up with his friend.

It was amusing, if not mildly infuriating with regards to the universe’s fate for your heart, to learn that Suguru’s the owner of the upscale café you’ve been buying Toji’s drinks from for six out of seven days a week.

It’s actually amusing to the point that you immediately smile whenever Satoru brings up Suguru, even for no particular reason, because if only time and luck had been at your side, you would’ve met him earlier and spared yourself the heartbreak from Toji.

You know to yourself, even in the deepest pits of your stomach that would like to argue otherwise, that you would’ve like Toji regardless even if you met Suguru earlier — what irks you about the whole thing is that fate is twisted.

You’re at standstill with the guy who checks all your boxes and actually likes you back unlike Toji, except this time, you’re content at staying in whatever playful relationship that you and Suguru are in now. 

It’s not a mess per se, but it’s a playful blunder between the two of you wherein you flirt and like each other’s presence, except you’re not in a relationship at all because neither of you are in a rush.

Oddly enough, having each other while not exactly owning the other at same time is enjoyable for the both of you.

For not atleast, you and Suguru are simply fated to be a pair of flirty friends that enjoy each other’s company without having to come home at the end of the night. He has his reservations while you have yours too, but they didn’t mean anything when the other just needs another shoulder present.

Your reservations don’t matter at the moment when there’s an inner turmoil that roots from the base of your chest, simply because Satoru had made the offhand comment that Toji kept asking him about you while you weren’t around.

Your reservations don’t matter at the moment when Suguru comes at the perfect time because he’s not as familiar as the best friend you grew up with, nor is he as fond as the man you’ve spent the better part of a year crushing on and are now wanting to move on from.

“Who’s that?” Toji snaps to no one in particular, the scowl on his face off-putting and intriguing enough for Satoru to notice. He follows Toji’s line of sight, a sly smirk already building up on his face at the prospect of teasing him, even if he knows your real score with Suguru.

“Oh, that’s Suguru. He’s my friend.”

“Didn’t he use to be that defending champion or something?” Toji murmurs, crossing his arms. He vaguely recalls how he once read an article detailing the young player retiring early so he could live a normal life, hearing the name Geto every once in awhile. “Why’s he here?”

“Didn’t you say you never keep tabs on other players?” Satoru snickers, the teasing smirk apparent on his face because of Toji’s sheer bitterness. “Also, it’s my gym. He’s not allowed around here or something?”

“Whatever. Don’t care,” Toji grumbles. “I could take him in a fight. I’d probably destroy him.”

Toji feels unwell, not because he spent a solid ten minutes arguing with a defensive Satoru that keeps insisting his best friend could totally defeat him in a fight, but because throughout that time, not once did you stop smiling at whatever Suguru has to say to you.

Your eyes are practically gleaming and although he loves the sight, there’s this ache that blooms in his chest and spreads all the way to the base of his spine knowing that it’s what you had looked like in front of him for the longest time.

“I bought lunch.”

Toji approaches you as soon as Suguru goes to the bathroom, his smile gentle and hesitant. 

It’s a first for you because you usually treat him. At the start, it was you treating everyone in order not to be transparent with your crush, but there’d been a couple obvious times in which you only exerted efforts for Toji and only him.

Toji doesn’t bother with an excuse of treating everyone or that he had bought too many; he just wants to have lunch with you. “Want some?”

“No, but thank you,” you answer lowly, the shake of your head barely noticeable because you don’t want to look him in the eye.

Toji’s more confused than he is deterred, the bag in his hands suddenly weighing a ton. “But you haven’t left your desk so that means you haven’t eaten yet,” he points out. “Do you not like this type of food? If not, I could just run to the-…”

“There you are!” 

Suguru comes back, and just like that, the crumbs of attention you were giving him had been cleaned up entirely. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s gooo, doll. I wanna beat everyone else to the limited specials,” Suguru ignores his obvious beating presence and practically drags you out from your chair (even though you needed little convincing), the hold he has on your wrist making Toji see red briefly.

Toji’s jaw clenches, unconsciously stepping out of the gym not long since you and Suguru rushed out, his sharp eyes following you until you both turn the corner.

It’s the same shop he got your food from.

( ♡ ) 

Toji can’t put a finger to what he’s feeling.

He feels different; the bad and dull kind of different that makes him listless and anxious no matter how much he tries to tire himself out.

He’ll subject himself to an agonizing workout with no breaks in between, but after that, he could only think about the way your bottom lip trembled at his words.

He’ll put himself through one practice match after another without any proper training, and even if Toji wins as he always does, he could only think about how he’s lost all of your affection that he had unconsciously looked forward to the entire time.

Toji finds himself lingering around you and he doesn't know if he could just continue hovering and hovering in this way; in a way that's unlike yours because you were unafraid to stand so close to him, talk to him whenever you please, and trail around him like a lost puppy in the past.

He’s upset and he doesn’t even know why he allows himself to feel that way, when for the longest time, he had convinced himself that he didn’t give you any hope so he had no reason to feel guilty about turning you down; so that he had no problem ignoring you while dealing with his constipation of not apologizing.

Toji’s upset, except he’s too self-aware to the point that it’s only his spite that keeps him awake with regret; he did give you hope. 

He didlinger around you and accept whatever you had to give him despite his lips making out the sentiment that he can never return them.

He did feel guilty at the prospect of turning you down right from the start because if that wasn’t the case, then you would have long given up on him. 

He did feel guilty about rejecting you, especially considering the fact that he wasn’t wholeheartedly sure whenever he refused your love — he still does.

“Toji?” you call out, the sound of your voice immediately startling him with the lights already dim in the breakroom. Toji only frequented the breakroom whenever you were there, and the odd, if not ironic, turn of events makes him smile humorlessly. “Are you drunk? Do you need me to call Satoru?” you ask with genuine concern, tilting your head as you try to assess his figure. “Do you want to go home?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head softly. “It’s jus’ to take the edge off. Probably easier to get a horse drunk than to get metipsy.”

You give a small smile at that, the tremble of your hands barely noticeable with the way Toji’s even more nervous than you at the realization that the two of you are alone with each other.

You’re only here because you forgot your laptop, and Toji’s only here because he doesn’t know what to make of himself because you’ve detached yourself from his routine— from his life, it seems like.

Toji looks down on his full glass, swirling it by his knee. There’s an unspeakable sorrow to his face with something about it resembling you, or atleast the resignation you felt every time Toji turned you down less than gently.

“Why don’t you like me anymore?”

Your eyes widen at the question, the words left in the tip of your tongue drying out the longer that Toji looked at you this way — like he’s stooped down to the level you used to be in, his eyes tired and glassy.

“Why don’t you like me anymore?” he repeats, mistaking the shock on your face for confusion. “If I… i-if I pretend to be drunk and ask you out, will you say yes?” Toji murmurs, using the back of his hand to clumsily get rid of the wetness that had unknowingly formed at the corners of his eyes. “Would that make you go back to liking me again?”

[noradegrantz]

Match Made In Heaven

college student! Anakin x fem! reader

warnings: sexual content, implied smut, fingering, established relationship, public sex

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

this small fanfic is inspired by Lana Del Rey’s unreleased song “Match made in heaven”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s my first time writing a fanfic so please excuse any typos etc <\3

⋆° 𐙚 ₊⋆𖦹 ⋆｡✩

After finishing with your homework, you arrived back at Anakin’s place. He’s everything you could have asked for. Curly dark hair, blue dreamy eyes, that masculine big figure and on top of that, his overprotection. Everything you could have asked for. Everything you always wanted. All the girls in college were jealous of you two and that’s a fact. At school you always tried to maintain a good behavior around everyone, you tried to act nice and not really touchy with Anakin. Which usually led you to getting pounded by your boyfriend inside the janitor’s room…

It was one of those days today. One of those which started off by you waking up tired and still sleepy. It’s not your fault though. Anakin was the one who came at your window around 1am just to see you, which led into making out and getting pretty handsy with you till 4am…

You woke up so sore today. Just wanted to sleep again. However, you move those thoughts aside and started getting dressed for the day. You met up with him before class to have a chat about this. He noticed that you seemed tired, so he was the one who suggested it. He went to the cafeteria and grabbed two coffees. He sat down on a nearby bench away from prying eyes, as you sat on his lap and played with your hair, looking down while his hand was resting on your waist. With a worried look, he touched your thigh and said

“Love, you seem really tired. Are you all right?”

he then smirked and playfully said

“I didn’t go overboard last night, did I??”

You instantly started blushing, and you lightly slapped his chest. Then you muttered

“A-Ani…stop teasing me…”

You pout and cross your arms while looking away. He smiled playfully and moved his hand under your skirt. Then he started caressing your thigh. He then playfully said again.

“What? Ain’t it true babe?” he smirked.

“Come on… don’t act like you weren’t asking for more every five minutes doll…”

He moved his hand closer to your panties. He moved them aside and started rubbing circles around your clit. You hissed in pleasure.

“You’re soaking wet darlin..”

he said as he slowly pushed two fingers inside.

“Ani…” you moaned quietly.

“Not here…please..w-we are in public..”

you said, trying to softly push his hand away.

“Shhh…now doll. Don’t worry. There’s nobody here except you and me. Calm down babe..”

He said, moving faster.

Shortly after you came in his fingers, he smiled playfully as you were staring at him, while breathing heavily. Your chest was moving up and down as you were in your college uniform. He fixed your panties and waited a while so you could regain your senses after your orgasm.

“How are you feeling y/n? I didn’t go overboard this time, right?”

He said, this time with a soft, but worried look.

“I’m okay Ani, it’s alright”

you said, forming a smile. You waited a bit, so you could find your composure again before heading to class. The day went smoothly.After you finished school, you crashed back at his place. His parents weren’t home so you both knew what that means…

You two were truly, a match made in heaven <3

here’s the song as well,

in case you wanna listen to it ! ✧˖°.

[taesancult]

taesan + possessive sex + filling your womb with his cum 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

(it's possible) he'd be very sexy if he did that💋

WHEW- possessiveness + jealousy is such a good look on him like him rolling his eyes, clenching his jaw, glaring- i love it i live for it truly

warnings: objectification, boundaries being crossed (not by my king taesan tho, by a stranger), dirty talk, possessiveness ofc, breeding, i went overboard AGAIN! because this is my man and i love him, big dick!taesan bc it’s canon, unprotected seggs (be safe!), kinda rough tbh

18+ stuff under the cut. mdni.

taesan doesn’t get jealous all that often, and if he does he’s upfront about it. letting you know so that way the two of you can talk things out and figure out where this jealous is stemming from. however, he can’t really control his emotions when someone else can’t get a hint. say a person that profusely kept hitting on you, despite him literally being right there.

you two would be out at a party, the night was actually going great, until some guy wouldn’t leave you alone. at first, taesan didn’t care as the guy made small talk with you and he was watching from across the room. he started to really care when that same guy put his arm around you. um no. you abruptly turned, pushing the guy off of you and telling him that you’re taken. taesan saw this guy literally shrug and that’s when he really got pissed. he made his way across the room to you and immediately put an arm around your waist. “excuse me. she’s mine.” he said as he glared at him. “she’s not an object. seems kinda toxic of you. call me if you ever want to get away from him.” he gestured to you. oh he was fuming now. little did that random man know, you liked it when he was possessive, you liked the idea of being an object. his object.

he knew it was better to be the bigger person, so he grabbed your arm and led you away. he went outside, stopping to check on you. when you assured him that you were okay, just a bit frustrated. then, he asked if you wanted to go home, and when you said yes, he raced home. as soon as you got there, he slammed you against the wall. “did you like that? i bet your pussy is practically gushing from that interaction.” he’d accuse you with a fire in his eyes. “n-no he was so gross! but…” “but?” he raised his eyebrow at you. “seeing you get so angry for me was so sexy.” you would tell him as you had a flirty look in your eyes, causing him to smirk at you. he wasn’t mad at you, he knew it wasn’t your fault, but he was furious to say the least. “i’m going to ruin you.” he would say as he picked you up, taking you to the bedroom.

once the foreplay was done, he would turn you over so you were lying on your tummy. “ass up, baby.” he’d say as his voice was laced with impatience. you quickly got into the position, your face smushed into the pillows as you felt his hands tightly grip your waist. you had already reached your high a few times as taesan really wanted to overstimulate you, to show you only he could please you. he guided his hard cock to your cunt, rubbing the tip all along your folds to tease you, some of your wetness from your arousal and previous orgasms coating his cock in the process. “dongmin! no teasing, just put it in already!” you whined out, the emptiness of your pussy starting to annoy you. “yeah? my desperate girl wants my cock?” he’d arrogantly ask, and in turn you would just moan out into the pillows. “yes! need your big cock in me, show me who i belong to.” oh he would absolutely wreck you after that statement. his ego was through the roof, a smile plastered on his handsome face as he started sliding in.

once he made sure you were fully comfortable, he would just start going at it so heavily. smacking his hips against your pelvis as his grip on your hips never let up. you would definitely have bruises tomorrow, and the thought just made you even more turned on. “fuck- this pussy is the best,” he’d groan out as he started pumping faster, “gonna cum so deep in you, you want my cum, baby?” he would ask, and you would just moan out. he would smack your ass, prompting a response, “use your words.” “yes! want you to cum in me so bad!” he would keep pumping his cock into your cunt, his pace only faltering as his high got near. he snaked his hand around your body so he could rub your clit. you moaned out, your body clenching around him as you got closer and closer to your orgasm. “fuck! i’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as he felt himself on the brink, and you were right there with him. “inside! want all of it!” you cried out causing him to finish, his cum coating your walls, filling you up so deep. the feeling of his cum inside you as well as his hand still playing with your clit was enough to make you reach your high too.

as your highs started to fade, the two of you basked in the afterglow. he flopped next to you on the bed, making sure to wrap a gentle arm around you. you both were breathing so heavily together from the sheer impact of your orgasms. “god, you really need to get jealous more.” you said to him as he laughed at you. “really? you like that side of me?” he said as he smiled at you. “yeah it’s sexy, but at the same time you know i’m yours right?” you asked, and he nodded his head. “i know baby, and i’m yours, it’s just fun to have a little drama in our lives huh?” you both smiled at each other as you then spent the night cuddling.

[pbnbucks]

Hi would you write smut for Nika muhl?

word count : 890

warnings : sad sex kind of?, angsty, poorly written smut

summary : nikas been acting weird and you give her a taste of her own medicine

“nika! where have you been its 3:18 in the morning” nika takes her coat off as she walks in ignoring you, ignoring the fact that your screaming and angry acting like nothing happened.

“i was out with the team” she says blankly reusing the same excuse that shes been using for months.

“oh bull shit nika your always with the team” sarcastically dragging out your voice at the girl who clearly had a night who still ego boosted as she walks past you

“you know what im gonna start doing everything you’re doing, im gonna let everything that walks by fuck me, and act like i don’t care and come home late” and with that sentence her heart drops to her stomach as she turns her body walking your way arching her back down to meet your face at the same level using her height to try and claim dominance,

this wasn’t the nika you knew, the one who wanted you to fear her.

“what did you say?” you scoff at her pettyness “you heard what i said im fucking tired so fuck you im going to go do whatever i want and if that means fuck other people then so be it asshole” raging as the girl in front of your face doesn’t change her facial expression only furrowing her eyebrows lightly wanting to remain unfazed.

her familiar hand found its way to your neck thats been placed there many times, when she was in loving and sweet mood but this time shes purely angry

“nika get the fuck off me” she pins you against the wall holding your body under her as your entire body’s are touching each other “don’t ever say that your going to fuck anybody else or so help me-” she says degrading you but you cut her off before she can try and make a point that you could care less about

“you’ve been fucking God knows who and your expectations are for me to be tied down and okay with it? are you fucking serious nika?” nika often took advantage of you, taking you for granted, not listening to things you wanted her to respect in your relationship. she wasn’t the same sweet girl anymore, the girl who made sure you both where in bed by 9 pm.

“you don’t mean that shit baby.” you knew the card she was going to play, sweet talk you and then in 3 days its back to the same day routine “the fuck i don’t nika, i wish i never met your sorry ass”

this was the comment that sent her overboard her whole face changed from nonchalant to complete rage, she overused her nonchalant cover so what happened next had you shocked as she dragged you to the bed shoving you face down as she got on top of you going to say something in your ear

“i wanna hear you say you don’t mean it” you whine because you knew nothing would change you where going to forgive her, she would play nice for a bit and then go do what she pleases.

“please start caring nika” you cry out as her body begins to hug every part of you as she places soft kisses along your jawline “i know baby, i know im sorry..” she says hesitantly as she wasn’t known for letting people see her feelings, not even you.

“i want to make it up to you, so fucking bad” she slides her large cold hands up and down your waist trying to calm you down from your pain washing over you. “i promise babe, gonna make you feel so good” she assures you as she flips you onto your back brushing the hair out of your face and with that your flipped on your back as her hands roam all over your body

she slips the strap on as she slowly enters the strap into your sweet hole as a groan leaves your mouth while your stuff your face into a pillow gripping the sheets.

“no pretty i want to see your face” she coos as she takes the pillow away from you running her fingers up and down your leg.

pornographic moans continue to leave your mouth as nika continues to push her hardened strap into not slowing down by any means.

“so fucking good” you plea out as you feel your walls begin to tighten, nika brings her fave down to face level with yours placing kisses along your jawline

“im so so sorry my good girl, i love you so fucking much” she mumbles in to your neck as her hands roam down to your butt massaging the large chunk she had in her hands

“i love you too mommy” she hums in response to your reply moaning in to the sweat spot on your neck

“i know you do mama i know” she coos edging you in to your release “want you to cum right here pretty” she whispers seductively in to your ear as you liquids begin to spill on to the strap that fills up inside of you, as moans begin to spill and fall out of your mouth.

“so so sorry princess” she reassures you for the final time

but sure enough a week later the same argument and event occurred again.

[tiramisuc0ffee]

Cold Nights.

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆ pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!reader

Summary: Suguru defected. Satoru comes to you for comfort.

warnings/tags: Takes place before "The Ghost of You" (which you can read here), and takes place after Warm Afternoons (which you can read here). Mentions events during the Hidden Inventory Arc, reader, and Satoru are close friends, but it's clear there is something more, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, not a lot of comfort tbh- like a sprinkle of fluff? slight OOC!Gojo, imo teehee

word count: 3.2k (I KEEP GOING OVERBOARD WHEN IT COMES TO THIS MAN)

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

It was an incredibly rare day off. Classes had been canceled and no missions had been assigned to you. The only flimsy explanation you were given by Yaga was that some form of internal investigation needed to be done within the school and it was in everyone's best interests to keep most of the students away from the main campus.

The news had been a shock and you certainly had several questions—the suddenness, the complete lack of clarity—it simply didn't sit right with you. A part of you wanted to attempt and pry for more details but, truthfully, the allure of finally having a day to just take it easy and potentially indulge in some hobbies you've fallen out of touch with was so tempting that you simply nodded with a smile before heading back to your dorm.

The sun shone brightly when you left Yaga's office, the day couldn't be more perfect. You capitalized on this, taking the time to finally visit that cafe you had been eyeing for a while, bringing along that fiction book that had been doing nothing but collecting dust on the shelf. You even did some shopping, treating yourself to a new outfit that you hoped to find an excuse to wear sometime soon.

But as evening approached, dark clouds rolled in and rain began to fall. Your eyes watched how the raindrops splattered across the window of your room, creating a repetitive pattern as you held a cup of tea close to your chest, sitting upright, your knees to your chest on your bean bag.

Finally a day off... God knew how badly you and everyone else needed it.

Especially Satoru and Suguru.

You couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips as you thought of the two men. Of course, you only heard stories of what they went through. Stories of a young girl by the name of Anamai who they couldn't protect, how Suguru had to watch her life being taken right before his very eyes, watching as the blood poured from her head, Satoru who came face-to-face with death and essentially lost his touch with reality, resorting to killing a man, though an assassin, in such a brutal manner.

You hadn't been there to witness any of it, but you saw the evident repercussions and how deeply the events affected them both.

With each passing day, you could see Suguru was looking worse for wear. Deep and dark circles contrasted heavily against pale skin, his hair growing long and unruly, and his body slimming, losing the definition it once had. And even though Satoru and Shoko would seemingly take his lazy excuses at face value when they asked, you were certain that you all knew how the raven-haired boy had something eating away at him.

Then Haibara died, and a hefty state of mourning took over the campus.

You watched as Nanami would have these flashes of anger, seeing several moments of barely contained rage and sadness. You understood his emotions deeply. You felt gutted. There was a part of you that always felt like you built a family within Jujutsu Tech, that these were your people and you cared deeply for each and every single one of them.

You remember the tears you shed silently in your room the night you found out. Remembering the handful of outings you, Suguru, Shoko, Satoru, Nanami, and Haibara went on. Several afternoons and evenings were filled with goofing off... just living life, feeling like normal high schoolers.

He was so young...

You didn't have it in you to go to the morgue to see his body, you weren't sure you could stomach the sight of it all. You knew Suguru went with Nanami, the two of them didn't talk much that day.

You tried to be as supportive as you could. You couldn't stomach the thought of seeing another one of your beloved friends fall, so you tried to be there. There were times you tried talking to Suguru, during the one-off chances you got to be alone with him for a brief couple of moments, but he would brush you off gently, giving you reassurances that you knew were nothing more than poorly constructed lies.

You wanted to be there. But what could you do? As much as it pained you to see him struggle, it's hard to help someone who wasn't ready for it.

You sighed softly.

But Satoru on the other hand of it all, his response was exactly what you expected, and if you were an outsider you would honestly have thought that he was completely unaffected by it all.

His normal demeanor was the same as always, carrying himself around with a lax and carefree attitude.

But, you second-years knew better.

Suddenly Satoru was pushing himself more and more, so much more than he normally did. You saw his determination tenfold and how there was this prominent need to push himself further to master his technique. You watched on as he managed to figure out how to manipulate his Infinity to discern levels of danger, automatically at that. His struggle to use Red was no more, mastering it to a tee and now proudly showing off the fact he was able to utilize the Reverse Cursed Technique as well.

He rose above everyone else so quickly, at such an alarming rate, it left many of you in the dust when it came to strength-

He truly had become the strongest.

But you knew, this all developed from deep-rooted frustration.

You could see as plain as day that he took what happened to Amanai and himself as a hard-hitting failure and a sign of weakness. And he wanted to make sure that it would never happen again.

But as a direct result of his intensive training and remarkable improvements, you got to accompany him on missions less and less, meaning he was away a lot more often than he usually was.

He often went alone returning with an earful of stories the moment he reunited with you, talking about what weak first grade he had to obliterate that day. Talking with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic delivery as you would laugh at his antics, munching on whatever sweet treat he picked up on his way back to share with you.

At least they had today to take it easy, you thought to yourself. You hoped that they would utilize this opportunity to do something fun to add some color to their life. Especially for Suguru, maybe Satoru or Shoko decided to drag him out somewhere, the thought made you smile for a moment as you took a sip of your tea.

Yeah, a day off for both of them was definitely needed. They deserved to feel like normal people again... even if it was just for a day.

BANG BANG BANG

A loud banging on your door had you jolting and letting out a soft squeak as you nearly spilled your half-cold tea all over your lap. You scramble to set the mug aside on your coffee table at you hurriedly rise to your feet, sliding on your slippers as the knocking begins to grow a bit more restless.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG "Coming!" you called out, hoping the knocking would finally cease. You swallowed your annoyance, trying to find it within you not to curse out whoever was at the door for giving you a scare as just a few gentle knocks would have sufficed.

You approach your front door and your fingers reach out and wrap around the doorknob, twisting and pulling.

"Satoru?" you blinked, your voice laced with surprise when you opened the door and were greeted with the sight of him.

It wasn't that strange for him to show up unannounced, he did it all the time and you were more than accustomed to the habit. No, what confused you was the fact that he was soaked as if he had been caught in the rain. His hair was matted down, his clothes clinging to his body as waterdrops dripped from his skin.

He didn't have his Infinity activated. Something was clearly wrong.

“Hey—are you okay—” you started, cutting yourself off with a gentle 'hmph!' when Satoru suddenly pulled you into him wordlessly. Your clothes dampened from his own soaked ones and normally you would curse the life out of him for something like this, but you made sure to hold your tongue, knowing very well now wasn't the time for that.

He held you tightly in his arms, and you could feel the shivering of his body against your own, likely from the cold wind nipping at his body from being out in the rain for who knows how long.

You frown, letting him hold you for a few seconds longer before gently patting his back, indicating for him to ease up his hold. You can feel him hesitate, giving you one last gentle squeeze before pulling away. You take the opportunity to close the door behind him, locking it and glancing up at him wordlessly before walking further into your apartment, inviting him further in.

"You're going to catch a cold..." you sigh out loud, moving hurriedly to your dresser, first fetching a towel and tossing it to him, which he catches with ease. He still doesn't speak and it bothers you deeply. The Satoru you were used to had no off switch, he could talk aimlessly for hours without a care. But this unnerving silence, the way it was so blatantly evident that something was bothering him and he wasn't even trying to cover it up— it was strange.

You open up one of your drawers, fetching out one of his shirts and joggers that the two of you agreed to keep in your room given how often he decided to stay over. Closing your drawer, you hold them delicately and make your way back over to Satoru, watching as he dried his hair, his gaze lowered to your floorboards.

"When you're done drying yourself, change into these... I'll get you something warm to drink and then we'll talk, okay?" You murmur softly, handing him the change of clothes, a gentle sympathetic smile on your face as you place a reassuring hand on his arm.

He nodded simply, leaving your side and heading into your bathroom, sliding the door shut behind him. You sigh softly, allowing your smile to drop to a frown as you immediately busy yourself by putting together a cup of hot chocolate. You grabbed a mug from your cupboard, poured in the hot chocolate powder as you heated up some milk, and reluctantly dropped two sugar cubes into the mug, knowing that Satoru would comment on it if you didn't.

As you are pouring in the milk, you hear the sound of your bathroom door sliding open once more, causing your eyes to flicker away. Satoru emerges, looking a little more put together than before, his hair was a ruffled mess but at least he was wearing dry clothes.

"You can hang them by the heater..." you say to him softly, eyes flickering down to the damp clothes that were in his hands while you stirred together the milk, sugar, and hot chocolate powder.

He does just that, gently laying out his clothes before sauntering over to your bed and sitting on top of the plush covers. You follow suit, fingers gently holding the handle of the mug, you walk over to him, leaning down to hand him the warm drink.

He musters up what looks like a weak smile, and you whisper a soft 'you're welcome' before pulling away and moving to go sit back in your beanbag—

But a gentle hand grabs your wrist.

And you meet his gaze.

His normally bright cerulean eyes are dulled down. He looks tired, and there's this specific look on his face— you don't like it—he looks so worn down.

He gently tugs on your arm and you immediately understand. Wordlessly, you sit down next to him on the bed. His free hand laces with yours and you give him a gentle squeeze, watching as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate, a soft sigh leaving his lips from the warmth.

He's running his thumb along your knuckles, lips tugging down into a frown as his eyebrows furrow.

A moment of silence passes.

"Suguru's defected" Satoru finally speaks, his voice devoid of any emotion, it's light, quiet in volume but the words have a sharp edge to them. They hang in the hair for a second, five, then ten—

"What?" you say incredulously, sounding more like a statement rather than a question. It's the only word your mind can conjure, your eyebrows furrowing, wondering if you heard him correctly, wondering if this was one of Satoru's sick pranks that simply went too far.

"He killed an entire village, he killed his parents— I went and saw him, there was this look of indifference on his face like it was nothing to him..." Words started to spill from his lips the more he spoke, not being able to stop since he started, "I wanted to stop him, I knew I had to, he would kill more, I could see it in his eyes but I—" "Satoru please slow down—" you tried to interject watching as he was getting more and more worked up with each word he spoke. His leg was bouncing rapidly and the hold he had on your hand was starting to become a little painful. His gaze was straight ahead, boring into the wall with this thousand-yard stare. He look petrified.

"But I couldn't, and he knew I wouldn't, he taunted me the bastard essentially telling me to go ahead and just pull the fucking trigger but I-" His voice broke and his eyes screwed shut, his head swinging down as his lips began to tremble. "I couldn't, (Y/N), I couldn't do it"

Then you see it.

Cascading down his cheek...

...along his pale skin...

...collecting at his jaw...

...dripping onto his freshly changed shirt...

A tear.

Your heart broke.

"I mean how could I...?" he laughs bitterly, "I'm not that heartless, am I?" he continues to laugh, a sorrowful sight as more tears begin to leave his eyes.

"I knew- we all knew something was wrong. And I tried... I swear I tried. But the fucker just wouldn't talk to me" his smile is wobbly, his bottom lip continuing to tremble and he bites down on it, a huff of air leaving his nose as he tries to still himself.

You truly didn't know what to say.

This simply was too much. You had never seen Satoru so vulnerable before. You had never seen him cry. And beyond that, you were still reeling from the news he brought to you. Your mind was running at a million miles per hour, searching for something, anything to say. Begging that somehow the right words that would heal everything would appear and leave your mouth.

But you drew a blank. So silently, you remove the mug from his hand, setting it on the coffee table next to your long-forgotten cup of tea, and slowly, you wrap your arms around him and hold him close. Hoping that maybe something as childish and as simple as a hug would provide some measly sense of comfort for him.

He breaks.

He's pulling you into his lap, arms tight around your waist and he shoves his face into your neck, stifling his emotions. His breathing is ragged and he's stuttering out nonsense as he tries to find his voice again but fails pathetically.

You felt your entire being shatter at the sight of your best friend being so broken, "This is not your fault, Satoru" you finally whisper, your own voice cracking, wondering if what you said was the right thing to say. "Like you said... you tried, we all tried- we wanted to help him, we really did-" A soft sob leaves your lips at the end of your sentence and the two of you just hold onto each other tighter.

"We can't save those who don't want to be helped.." you resolve, your hand gently running up and down the expanse of his clothed back.

You didn't know what more to say, what could you say at a time like this? Were there any right words? You were still reeling from your own emotions, you didn't know what to make of it all, and you simply felt devastated.

So the two of you sit there, silently crying in each other's arms, mourning over the fact that you lost another one of your friends. Wondering what you both could have done differently, wondering how you could have let Suguru fall so low?

"Stay with me tonight..?" he suddenly speaks again, his voice slightly hoarse as he continues to cling to you tightly.

"Of course..." You whisper back to him, not missing a beat as you attempt to wipe away your tears.

Eventually, the two of you move, making your way underneath the covers of your bed, lying on your side and facing each other. He brought you back to his chest, engulfing you in his arms wordlessly, allowing the two of you to fall into silence for just a few moments.

"Do you remember that mission we had together a couple months ago? The one where we thought we'd be going up against Grade Two Curses" he starts, voice nothing more than a hushed whisper that if you hadn't been so close to him, you may not have heard him. "Yeah, and it turned out to be Grade One's instead..." you whisper back, briefly recalling your annoyance over the misinformation that you and Satoru were given at the time.

He lets out a soft chuckle and you feel you've earned yourself a small victory. "That's the one..." he trailed off, letting out a shaky breath before continuing to speak, "we decided to wander about for a bit afterward... and we just- watched the sunset together and talked," he said, his hands trailing up your back to begin playing with the ends of your hair and a soft smile graces your lips at the action.

"Yeah, I remember that" you murmur, recalling the fond memory as you leaned into his chest a little more.

"So-" he begins, cutting himself with a shaky sigh, "...You don't plan on going anywhere, right?" his voice breaks again, and your ears perk up, realizing he was mimicking those exact words he spoke to you that day.

And you're unsure if this is a narrative you're creating in your head, but you realize at that moment that Satoru was just as terrified as you were.

As selfish as it felt, you realized that he also was afraid of losing more people. That there was a part of him that also didn't know if he could stand to watch as another person slipped through his fingers.

That maybe, he was afraid of potentially losing you just as you were scared shitless of losing him.

You felt something stir within you, an emotion that you couldn't quite place as you processed your own thoughts.

"I promise you... you're stuck with me" you say with teary eyes, mimicking your exact answer to him from that evening. You feel his body tremble and he just holds you tighter, the next few words he speaks coming out shaky and strained.

"...Thank you..."

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

A/N: well if you read "Ghost of You" - if you know- you know :P But that is the 2nd and final prequel/addition to the Ghost of You story. I wanted to write these two parts as I thought it would help bring more meaning to the story and that it would also offer a bit more of a deep dive into the dynamic that Satoru and the Reader had, and it'll help sort of justify Satoru's reactions and emotions during the story. But thank you guys for the love and support on this fic! It did so much better than I ever thought it would! I have a few drafts of drabbles that I have been preparing to post but I hope you guys will stick around and see some of the new works I will be posting. Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!

Taglist: @hyori2 @kalulakunundrum @smolbeanzzz @numblytemporary @satxoru

[demonpiratehuntress]

dreams

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

summary - majority of your dreams seem to manifest in the real world somehow, so when you have one about your crush and your best friend...things get a little out of control.

warnings - heavy angst (im sorry), hurt to comfort

a/n: when i started writing for this fandom i PROMISED myself i would not make it all angst and no fun, but oh well :))))) idek where this idea came from, i need help

You woke up from a nap with the sickening urge to empty your stomach overboard. Nausea reared its ugly head, and before you could even try to tame the feeling, you were sprinting to the side of the ship to empty your stomach.

What exactly was the cause?

This would sound insanely ridiculous, and to you it really was, but you had a weird dream. And it didn't sit well with you. Most of the dreams you had often became a reality, albeit with slight changes. There were some that didn't, but almost all of them came true eventually or manifested in a similar way at some point.

And that's probably the reason you couldn't stop yourself from vomiting obscenely before your stunned - and confused - crew.

"(Name), are you okay?" Nami asked worriedly, coming over to you.

You flinched away from her, increasing her confusion, before turning and running off to the bathroom. She exchanged looks with the others who were out on deck - Usopp and Luffy - before shrugging it off and going back to mapping the ship's course.

The truth was, you had a completely unexpected yet maddening dream while napping, one that you prayed to any god who would listen would not come true. You had dreamed of Zoro - the man you had the biggest crush on - and Nami, which may seem an odd coupling and probably was but you couldn't control your dreams. Much like how you couldn't control how you felt about it, despite it only being a fictional idea your mind concocted.

You went straight to yours and Nami's room after cleaning yourself up, setting up the divider that separated your section from hers so you wouldn't have to deal with seeing her if she came in. Your behaviour was unfair to her, since you knew she would never do anything like that, nor did she have any romantic interest in Zoro. In fact, she barely had any interest in the swordsman at all. But according to your dream, that might change.

You curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket right up over your head to shield yourself from the real world. The familiar feeling of something wet running down your cheek informed you that you had started crying, but you couldn't care less. You couldn't move. You didn't have the energy to move, much less bring your hand up to wipe your tears away. So you just lay there, curled up in a foetal position, trying - and miserably failing - to get your mind off it.

A while later, a knock at your door caused you to jerk up in your bed, before you groaned and flopped back down.

"Go away!"

"Nami said you're sick," came Sanji's voice, "So I made you some soup. Please open the door."

You breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't either of the two people you were currently trying to avoid. Slowly dragging yourself out of bed, you had to make even more effort to get yourself to the door. Forgetting that you had just been crying, you opened it and let the cook in, confused when his expression immediately grew alarmed.

"(Name), why are you crying??" He immediately set the soup down and pulled you into a comforting hug - one that seemed to be much warmer than usual right now.

"I-I'm fine," you mumbled into his shoulder, "Just not well."

He nodded, falling for your excuse, before pulling away to hand you the soup, "Here, this should help. If you need more, or if you need anything else, just let me know." He smiled at you, before leaving you alone once again.

You sat back down on your bed and ate the soup - because who can say no to Sanji's cooking, even if you're not really in the mood to eat? And it did help, the warmth helping to settle your queasy stomach and alleviate the nausea if only a little bit. Minutes after you finished it, there was another knock and you frowned, wondering who it was now.

You didn't answer, in fear of it being Zoro.

Just the thought of Zoro had you replaying that dream all over again, and before you could stop yourself or at least soften the sound, sobs were wracking your body and you were burying your face in your hands, crying into their warmth.

The door opened and a familiar set of heavy footsteps reached your ears before the bed dipped beside you. Your entire body froze up, tensing at the arrival of the green-haired swordsman. Your sobs fell silent, hiccups replacing them as you stilled and tried your best to quell your sadness - still keeping your face hidden.

"What happened?" Came that usually-comforting deep voice you loved so much, but that now caused your nausea to return. "What's wrong, (Name)?"

"Please go away," you found yourself speaking, not wanting to push him away but knowing you'd feel even more ridiculous if he found out how you felt about him while you were recounting a silly dream.

"No."

Usually the swordsman would leave without a word if you asked for space, or if you told him to go away, but this time he could see you were absolutely not okay and you needed someone. Luffy wouldn't be a good idea, Usopp wouldn't know what to do, and you seemed to be avoiding Nami. And he sure as hell did not want that stupid cook anywhere near you right now, in fear of him comforting you so well that the swordsman would lose you to him entirely.

You didn't respond to that, so Zoro brought his hands up to slowly and gently peel yours away from your face. You let him, shocking yourself, and the sight of your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face caused his heart to constrict painfully.

"Tell me what's wrong."

He held your hands in his own, not wanting to let go. He had waited so long to be able to hold them, and he was glad for this excuse to. But he was heartbroken seeing you so upset and apparently sick over something he didn't know about yet. He gently squeezed your hands, silently encouraging you to speak. He wasn't good with words, but if comfort was what you needed he would do and say whatever he could to make your pain go away.

"It's you and Nami."

He stiffened. He didn't know what that meant, but just hearing he was part of the reason you were so upset made his heart sink.

"What did we do?"

"It's...um...it's silly," you replied quietly, voice low but pain still evident. "It doesn't matter." You tried pulling your hands away, but Zoro only gripped them tighter.

"It does, if it's making you this upset."

Reluctantly, you relayed to him what you had dreamed about, voice cracking halfway through as more tears fell. You felt even sillier saying it to someone else, especially him, and avoided making eye-contact throughout the entire explanation. When you finished, you shot him a small, brief glance - only to do a double take when you saw the absolutely horrified and disgusted look on his face.

"Me and the thief?" He questioned, distaste clear in his tone. "You've got to be kidding me." He sighed, sneakily shifting closer to you on the bed. "That can't be possible."

"But-"

"Some of your dreams don't come true," he reminded you, "This is definitely one of those. You want to know how I know?"

You nodded slowly, biting your lip.

You did not expect his next words.

"Because I already dream about doing that with you."

Your jaw dropped. If you were like Luffy, it would have probably dropped all the way to the floor, you were so stunned by his confession. Your formerly slowed heartbeat picked up speed again, heat filling your cheeks as you processed his words.

"Me?"

"Mhm. Only you. Been a recurring dream, actually."

As you stuttered out an incomplete sentence and then stammered through some nonsense, Zoro leaned in slowly and pressed his lips against yours, locking you in a slow but sweet kiss. His lips were warm and soft, inviting you to lean into him and return the kiss. The affectionate gesture had butterflies blooming in your stomach.

"I'm sorry," you whispered once you remembered how to speak.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm, comforting and secure embrace.

You sat like that quietly for a while, Zoro rubbing soothing circles onto your back while you clung to him, face buried in his neck. He kissed the top of your head every few minutes, in between mumbling sweet words of comfort into your ear - mainly "you're beautiful" and "i'm yours" because he didn't know what else to say. But it was enough for you.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"You should clear things up with Nami. She's upset because you're not talking to her."

"I know...later."

He chuckled and tightened his grip on you, keeping you warm and increasingly happy in his strong arms. He didn't intend on letting go, but that was good because you didn't want him to.

BONUS:

"STUPID MOSSHEAD!"

Loud banging and clanging jerked you awake the morning after your confessions, the sound of Sanji's loud exclamation having woken you - but not Zoro - up. He probably had woken up the others as well.

You tried to get up to see what was wrong, but Zoro refused to let go. He was still sleeping, but his arms wound around you even tighter, pulling you back against him. You sighed, knowing you could ask someone else later anyway.

Nami poked her head around the divider and smirked, "He's upset that Zoro finally confessed and ruined his chance to woo you."

You laughed at that, "Give him an hour, max. Then he'll try to woo you."

She groaned, "I'm already dreading it."

The two of you laughed, and it felt good to be back on speaking terms with her. Even though, strictly speaking, you hadn't had a reason not to be in the first place. But oh well.

The power of dreams...