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covetyou · 9 months

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freeze-thaw

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: no outbreak, fluff, smut, fingering, playing in the snow, temperature play, Joel probs has super bad circulation, established relationship but it's their first Christmas together and reader has some relationship insecurites word count: 2.7k summary: With your holiday plans ruined when a freak snow storm blows through town, you spend the fesitve period holed up with your partner, Joel Miller, learning exactly how warm you can keep each other in the snow.

A/N: happy holidays and merry sunday @oogaboogasphincter, from your Pedrostories Secret Santa! I went mostly for a snow, with a sprinkling of established relationship, and a dash of doing cozy things. I don't think I've written any of these things before, so it was a learning experience! I used just about every synonym I know for the word cold too.

snowy dividers by @saradika-graphics follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

Your holiday plans had gone to shit the moment that first flurry fell from the sky. Icy roads, cancelled flights, and downed power lines - Texas infrastructure at its finest - had put a halt to your plans to head back north for the holiday. Joel's holiday plans didn't fair much better, and instead of your first Christmas together being spent apart, you were spending your first Christmas together, well, together.

Then, to make a bad thing worse, the power went out, leaving you stuck in the dark and the cold in your apartment, and together suddenly became very together.

It hadn't been the plan - you still felt so very shiny and new at this, at being with him, and the idea of spending such a significant holiday holed up with him terrified you more than the dark ever did. But still, Joel drove on treacherous roads to come pick you up at 3am, dragging you and the perishable food from your refrigerator back to his place for the holidays. He had a generator, and fuel, and enough space for both of you to be comfortable, he said.

You spent the first day keeping to yourself, tiptoeing around, not wanting to disturb him any more than you were. Then he'd caught you circling around the back of the sofa, so as to not disturb his view of the TV, and his deep laughter stopped you dead in your tracks.

A "the fuck are you doin'" later and your insecurities came tumbling out, quickly quashed by Joel as he made it very well known just how much he wanted you there. That night, it didn't take you long to learn how warm you could keep each other.

The second day was spent bundled together on the sofa, him between your legs or you between his.

On the third, you worked up such a sweat together that you'd walked around his house naked, never more grateful for the generator chugging away in the garage.

Eventually, domesticity took over, and you spent a day wrapped up in each other in different ways. Watching a movie, drinking hot coffee, cooking a meal.

You'd trailed behind Joel into the yard on his way to check the generator that same day, Joel wanting to check it was well fueled, and you wanting an excuse to be out of the house for five minutes.

You kick at the snow, enjoying it for a few moments before it inevitably seeps through your shoes and chills your toes. Reaching down, you fluff it through your fingers, throwing a little into the air just to watch it fall again - as if you hadn't seen enough falling snow this last week. Joel is watches you, his eyes burning into your back and a smile tugging at his lips.

"You get inside, I'll deal with all this."

You stick your tongue out at him, trudging further over the snow to spin in the middle of the yard with your arms flung wide. He's laughing along with you when you stop, disorientated and unsteady on your feet. Looking back to him you stop in your tracks, finally seeing the deep gouges that mar the otherwise pristine white crust covering the ground. Yours and Joel's boots, footprints in the snow. Something about it, your foot steps mingling there together for all to see, wretches open your chest and captivates you.

And so, drawn in as you were by the footprints, you write your initials in the snow. Yours first, and then his, joined together and underlined as fact. You hesitate to carve out a frozen heart - too fearful to freeze something so warm and new and growing in something as rigid and fragile as ice - and turn to Joel again, a smile spreading across your face as you gesture to the letters in the snow -

"Oof."

- and a snowball, aimed perfectly at the back of your head a moment ago collides directly with your face. You cough and splutter, briefly blinded by ice as you swipe your freezing fingers over your face, hearing the creak of Joel's boots on the snow as he approaches you with apologies and laughter spilling from his lips in equal measure.

You glower at him, snow undoubtedly caught in your eyebrows, hiding a laugh of your own.

"Get," he says, turning you by the shoulders and pushing lightly to get you back inside. "I'll handle out here, check on the generator. Get warmed up."

Inside, the warmth almost burns as you peel off your layers and check on the food still baking away in the oven. Holding your hands in front of it like it was an open flame, you warm your fingers and wait for Joel, who comes back a few minutes later, chilled to the bone, stomping the snow from his boots and shaking his head as he shudders with the cold.

"Generator's still lookin' good," he says, slapping his gloves down on the counter. He rubs his hands together, blowing on them in an attempt to warm them up faster. Four days now, and the power was still out thanks to a new downfall of snow overnight.

"Your turn to get warm then," you smile, bending down to peer into the oven. "Dinner won't be long now."

"Sounds great, darlin'."

The bitter bubble of air he brought in with him surrounds you as he pulls you into his arms, nuzzling his frosty nose into your hair, laughing with you as you twitch away from the cold.

You expect him to move to the stove, to warm his hands on the heat of the oven just as you did, but instead he draws his fingertips up your belly, pushing your sweater up. Cold fingers meet the soft warmth of your bare skin and you gasp, gripping his arm.

"Joel! Don't you dare."

It was karmic justice really, given the number of times you'd warmed your feet on him in the night recently. You couldn't help it if the man was like a radiator.

"Got old fingers, baby, cold gets to my bones quick. Lemme warm 'em up, I know just the place."

"Fine," you say, tensing and preparing for the incoming press of his icy hand to your belly.

It doesn't come. Instead he tucks his hand down the front of your leggings, dragging the cold with him and holding you tight with his other arm.

"Joel..."

"What? Friction gets 'em warmer quicker. You don't want me to lose 'em to frostbite, do you?" You can feel him smiling into your hair as you gasp at the cold press of his fingertips to the white heat between your legs.

"No. Wouldn't want you gettin' frostbite."

Joel hums into your hair, breathing you in, just as he starts to rub softly over your clit. The sensation makes your skin prickle, first with warmth, then with cold, then something deliciously inbetween.

A moment later he's already slipping them from you and you twist, raising your eyebrow at him and preparing to call him a tease, only to watch as he slides his fingers into his mouth, slicking his cool digits up with his saliva. He's tucking them back into your leggings with a mocking raised eyebrow of his own, kissing the gasp from your lips as his fingers make cold, wet trails down your warm stomach again. They slip against your clit with ease now, but the wetness only exacerbates the chill of his fingers.

The layers of your panties and leggings can't warm up his hand fast enough, and even as he starts to rub gently at you, doing much more than just warming his fingers, you feel a shiver of cold run through you.

"Friction is b-bullshit," you stutter. "Your fingers are still cold as hell."

"Just think how I feel, they're my fingers."

"My heart bleeds for you, Joel," you retort, leaning your head back onto him.

"If it don't feel good, I can stop."

"... I never said anything about stopping," you sigh, closing your eyes and widening your stance a little so he can reach further down.

Joel doesn't need further prompting, his spit slicked fingers slipping through your folds to dip lower between your legs to swipe at your entrance. It seemed counterintuitive, putting something so cold somewhere so warm, but Joel's fingers sliding with ease through the wetness pooled between your legs was proof enough that it did something.

Small strokes become broader, his cold fingers swiping up and down the seam of you as if to prove friction was all he was after. The heat from your core soon begins to warm his fingers, pulling warmth back into his bones and easing the ache in them with each passing moment. Still, it's slow going, and your arousal seems to grow exponentially quicker than the warmth in his fingers.

When they finally feel warmer, and your soft sighs turn to deeper moans, you arch your back, winding your hips along with the movement of his fingers. The cold was no match for how hot you were starting to feel. You would burn the cold right out of him before he was through.

"Joel-"

You gasp again when he slides a single cool finger down and presses it slowly inside of you. His fingertips may have been warmed by friction, but the length of his digits had not, and they still felt icy cold, making you clench and grip around him. Still, no amount of clenching can hide the wetness dripping out of you as he slides in with ease, slicking his finger up before pushing in with a second. He fucks you with them slowly, restricted by the fabric of your leggings, before pulling your arching back flush to his body. A second later his fingers still inside you, anchoring you down just as his palm presses flat against your mound. Warming you up and then cooling you down again over and over was making your head spin, and while you shudder and shiver in his arms, you know it's not the cold that does it this time.

"How are your hands still so cold," you pant.

"Bad circulation, darlin'," he whispers, and you feel yourself grow wetter still at the low gravelly sound of his voice.

"Should get that seen to."

"Good job I got you in the meantime."

The slow curl of his fingers isn't enough, and you find yourself rocking into his frigid palm, eager for the friction to return to your clit now that his fingers are buried deep inside you.

"Grind on it, darlin', that's it. Warm me up."

He rubs the heel of his palm against your clit in sync with your movements, and before you know it you're holding back twitches and biting your lips to stop moans from spilling too loudly out of you.

"You're gonna make me come, Joel."

"Just warmin' my hands, nothin' else."

You can hear the smile in his voice and feel it against your neck as he nuzzles his cold nose into your cheek.

"I know your game, Miller," you say, before groaning once again, pressing back against him with each rock of your hips, feeling the rapid swelling of his cock against your lower back. It seemed you were warming him in more ways than one as his fingers curled inside you, pushing and dragging against that spongy spot on your front wall that he never failed to find.

"Pussy's like a damn furnace. Who needs the generator, when we got this."

His palm is still cold, but you're starting to sweat, feeling the prickle of it across your scalp as you move, panting into the warm air of Joel's home. He could hold you like this forever, be buried in you like this forever as the world outside turned to ice, and you wouldn't mind.

But you're made painfully aware that this can't last forever as you feel yourself getting closer, pressure building inside you with each buck of your hips.

"Joel."

It's dizzying - his slowly warming palm and fingers, now red hot inside of you as they press and press and press at you in a way that would normally have you boneless if you were lying on his bed. But, standing here in the kitchen, you lock out your knees and hold on, white knuckle gripping the counter with your own still cold hands.

A shudder hits you when his cold face nudges yours again, and you turn your head to meet his lips in a kiss. He pulls the warmth from you there too, his cold nose nudging at yours. Even through your panties and the restricted movement of his hand, you can hear how wet you are, sloshing beneath his palm as you let out a keening moan straight into his mouth.

"S'okay. I got you."

He coaxes it out of you, you can feel it coming, his fingers picking up the pace, making the nudge of his palm just right, for just long enough, to send you skyrocketing in his arms.

It's white hot, sending a shiver down your spine as an orgasm ripples through you, twinkling behind your eyelids before exploding in your core, a muted breathy scream pulling from you with each gasping breath that leaves your mouth. You're falling apart as he holds you together, coming on his fingers and beneath his palm as he grinds it into every rock of your hips. Well practiced hands stop just as you're hitting a point of oversensitivity, cupping and holding onto you gently as you go as limp as you can in his arms, knees locked to keep you upright.

He swallows down each of your moans greedily, until you're left breathing heavy, forehead pressed to his. You feel half asleep, even standing on two feet.

"S'your turn," you mumble, only to be dissmissed by Joel with a promise of "later". You're grateful for it, feeling too sleepy to function all of a sudden, until Joel's voice rumbles through you once more.

"I'd say you make a great handwarmer, darlin'."

Laughter spills out of you, warm and bright, the heat in your cheeks warming his nose as he nuzzles against you once again.

"Only one problem," he murmurs, the cottonwool slowly clearing from your head.

"Mm?"

"Got two hands."

His other hand is still cold, he knows it is, but that doesn't stop him from snaking it up your waist, under your sweater and tickling at your bare stomach. You crumple in on yourself, legs that had held you through orgasm buckling as you twitch and laugh into him, smacking your fists into his sturdy chest.

"Stop, stop! You ass- asshole! J-Joel! Stop it!"

He lets you taste the laugh on his lips, kissing you once more as his cold hand rests against your bare skin.

"C'mon, let's eat."

You end that day as it started, wrapped up together, oblivious to the world outside and warmer than you had any right to be in a snow storm.

By the fifth day, the storm has passed, and by the sixth the power is back on, just in time for the big day. You both barely notice, staying wrapped up and warm together over the holiday.

You return to your apartment in the New Year and, even though the power has been back on for days and the heat has been pumping steadily, the place has never felt so cold.

In the years to come, you'd ask Joel about that week - the first of a New Year, and the first without you after having you around for so long. He'd tell you how cold it felt, how empty his house was without you in it. And when you turn up on his doorstep at the end of that first week, sniffling and crying and telling him you missed him, he'll crumple, telling you he felt exactly the same before drawing you into his arms and pulling you inside.

And then, eventually, in a home that was his and is now yours, you'll be sat in warmth and sunshine - as unexpected to the you of back then as a snowball to the face - watching your combined families meet for a Christmas not turned on its head by a Texan snow storm.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

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#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics

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rachalixie · 1 year

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a/n: a little 2min x reader thing i wrote at 1am. it's just my need to have the boys i'm in love with also be in love with each other.

dating both seungmin and minho was an interesting experience in almost all aspects.

the two were, quite literally, like cat and dog. they bicker constantly, provoking one another just to get a rise out of it, but still insanely protective of one another. they’d been friends for longer than either of them had known you, a history there that you could never understand no matter how hard you tried to. they were roommates after all, they spent more time with each other than they did with anyone else.

you fell in love with them at the same time. they were a constant from day one, wiggling their way into your life until they found a home there. they were unusual, they were frustrating, they were wonderful. a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around - maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice.

they were flirting.

their bickering was their ploys for attention, their jabs at each other were their ways of showing affection, their protective streaks were their way of saying i see you, i care about you, please be okay.

it frustrates you that it took you months to realize this. months of sleeping over, alternating whose bed you ended up in at the end of the day. now, lying wide awake next to a softly snoring minho, the puzzle pieces finally line up and you’re stuck with the slowly spiraling thought that the two stupid men you fell in love with were also in love with each other.

you hear soft footsteps outside of the room followed by the squeak of minho’s doorknob turning, and you close your eyes and level your breathing. you didn’t want to see kim seungmin right now. you didn’t want to speak to kim seungmin right now.

he pads to the bedside table, quiet as possible to not wake you or minho. you hear the click of minho’s bedside lamp and the orangey glow behind your eyelids disappears.

seungmin can’t sleep with the lights on, even the softest glow from the crack beneath his door bothers him. his room is always shrouded in darkness, the thickest blackout curtains lining his windows and covers over every charging cable.

“stupid hyung,” he mutters, sliding out of the room as fast as he entered it.

this is something you’ve seen him do often. he would sneak into minho’s room, slick and quiet, and turn the lights off. he would never bring it up to minho, never scold him for leaving the lights on and disturbing his sleep.

seungmin can’t sleep with the lights on. minho knows this. minho, for all of his teasing and general i-don’t-give-a-fuck facade, he remembers these tiny details. he would never do something purposefully that would harm someone else’s health, especially kim seungmin’s.

he’s been leaving the lights burning on purpose. just so seungmin has to come into his room and then them off. just so he has a little pocket of interaction to hold close. and seungmin has been letting him. seungmin was never one to hold back from complaining to minho about his behavior, from the way he leaves his shoes just an inch away from the rack to the way he breathes too loud during movie nights. so, why does he not complain about this? why does he not barge in and wake minho up in his frustration instead of creeping in and out like a ghost?

because they love each other, your traitorous brain supplies.

you’re still pretending to be asleep when you hear minho sigh and roll over, his hand coming to cover his face. you can hear the smile in his breath, and you’re sure that if you opened your eyes you’d be able to see the fiery red burning in his ears, even in the dark. interesting.

this stays with you for days. weeks. you know you spend a little too much time staring at them now, but you can’t help it. if they notice, they don’t bring it up to you.

you start staying awake later on the days that you’re in minho’s bed, just to get a glimpse of seungmin coming in and out of the room. sometimes, he would turn off the light quickly and leave just as fast. other times, he would take a second to stare at minho’s face with heavy eyes, pausing for longer than necessary before turning and walking away. on rare occasions, when he notices that the blankets have shifted away, he pulls them over an exposed knee or elbow or foot, tucking minho in like he’s a child that needs to be coddled.

minho wakes up sometimes. he sighs like he’s in school and he’s experiencing his first crush, every single time. other times he remains fast asleep, mumbling lightly in unintelligent syllables. but every day that seungmin visits his room, he wakes up utterly content and pleased.

a month into this routine you’ve had enough. you don’t know how long this has been going on for, but you know that you’re ready for it to end.

“talk to him,” you say to minho before bed as you run your fingers through his hair in what you hope is enough to comfort him.

“talk to who?” he asks, voice trembling around the edges. he’s playing ignorant, when you know he knows exactly who you’re talking about.

“he feels the same, you know that?” you keep your voice soft, not wanting to spook him. he spooks easily, like a kitten. “the three of us are already dating each other. it’s just that you two don’t know it yet.”

“what if he says no?” he forces out, avoiding your eyes as he fiddles with his fingers.

“he won’t. trust me?” you hold out a pinkie and he links his own with it with a slow nod.

it takes him longer to go to sleep, this time. you can hear his uneven breathing under your head from where it’s pillowed on his chest, and it jumps when he hears his bedroom door creak open.

seungmin moves to the light and clicks it off, but before he could back away minho’s eyes flutter open and he grabs seungmin’s hand.

“hyung?” seungmin squeaks out, frightened at being caught for the first time. that he knows of.

“you came all this way just to turn off a light,” minho starts, words slow and tentative like he’s testing out the flavor of them on his tongue before he speaks them. “might as well stay. there’s room for you, in here.”

not the confession you were hoping for, but you suppose it’ll do, for now. he folds back the blanket a bit, enough to signal the invitation but not enough to be embarrassed about if he was rejected.

“you want me?” seungmin’s voice is too shocked for how smart he is. why can’t these boys see what’s in front of them?

“get in the bed, seung,” you jump in, not willing to witness the awkward stumbling that those two were about to engage in. you had plenty of time for that tomorrow, in the daylight. “he wants you to.”

so seungmin does. he gets in quietly, and minho wriggles a bit closer to you to make room. despite minho’s claim, it’s a tight fit, but when minho throws and arm around seungmin and pulls him into his chest so that the two of you were mirrored images of one another it works.

minho’s smile almost outshines seungmin’s, both blinding the room in the kind of light that doesn’t need flame or electricity.

the next morning, seungmin claims that it was the best sleep he’s had in a while. minho claims that it’s usually a little too cold, and having two personal heaters instead of one was better. you roll your eyes at them, but when they shyly kiss over the kitchen table you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #soft #lee know fluff #seungmin fluff #2min #lee know imagines #kim seungmin imagines

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lightlycareless · 9 months

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✨ consensual smut

Heya anon! Thank you so so so much for being patient with me!! I don't usually write smut that often so it does take me quite a while to do so, specially when I was already writing other things, but oh my god was this the perfect opportunity to write the nastiest thing I've written in my life. I have really no idea where this came from, I just—well, I just wanted to write it :))))))) and it's finally out.

Anyways, the warnings are: smut. straight up smut. oral, vaginal, anal, a bit of exhibitionism I believe, and yeah. Minors, do NOT interact pleaseeeee

So, without further ado, happy reading!!!

Sorcerers can be known as lonely wolves amongst the community from time to time; tending to keep to themselves, both inside and outside missions, for a wide variety of reasons.

Beginning with ego, preferring to brag about a job well done when completed by themselves (the riskier the job, the better). Saying you finished it with someone else just didn’t have the same impact.

Or… they didn’t like the competition, not like this, at least. It felt almost like cheating to “join forces”, circling back to the first point, where some would think that doing so would label them as weak, or worse, losing their ground.

And just as the story often goes, the higher the rank, the bigger the ego, and that would be the case with none other than Naoya Zen’in, who was anything but elated to hear that his next mission would be a team effort.

In other words, he’s going to be paired up with someone else. A fellow sorcerer.

You.

It wasn’t either’s fault, really. It’s just that the nature of both of your and his technique gave way to an unusual synergy.

You didn’t complain of this arrangement, being used to it due to you being more of a supportive sorcerer. If anything, this was just another Tuesday for you: same movie, different actor.

Oh, but for Naoya, this was the absolute worst.

“I’m not taking the mission” Naoya firmly declares. “So, find someone else to do it.”

You don’t say anything against Naoya’s words, for it was well known that while he didn’t like taking missions with others, he didn’t like taking missions with you. Or you in general, he just… can’t stand you. Why? No one knows, it’s just the way it is.

“But—Zen’in-sama—” his poor manager would always, always, try to rationalize with him, make him understand that every mission he’s assigned to is carefully catered to his talent, and not because they had something personal against him…

But it’s easier to move mountains that change Naoya’s opinion—and this always led him with problems with other fellow sorcerers and managers, having to profoundly apologize in his name whenever Naoya decides he’s too good for anyone else.

Thankfully, you were a good sport when it came to dealing with Naoya; since you were often paired together, you already knew how his tantrums would usually go.

Doesn’t mean you liked hearing every time.

Oh well, at least you’ve learned what to do to tune out his madness.

“It’s fine” you say. “If he doesn’t want to do it, I’ll gladly take the job myself.”

Naoya’s eye twitch.

“What, think you’re better without me?” he scoffs, it’s always your subtle arrogance that he hates the most.

“I didn’t say such thing” you responded, not bothering to look at him. “I just said that if you didn’t want to do the job, leave it to me. I’ll do it.”

“No—I’ll do it” Naoya frowns. “It’ll serve to show you how the job is done.”

The manager wasn’t happy Naoya ended up taking the mission by berating you, but… well, he was glad it worked.

And after overseeing the mission’s details one last time, your manager is the one that ends up driving the two towards the location where both would be spending the next few hours: an abandoned school just outskirts of the city.

To say that the drive there was awkward would be an understatement—it was overwhelmingly silent, tense, mostly from Naoya, who felt could be irked by the slightest mishap.

Your manager would try his best to ease this sensation, strike casual conversation by commenting on the weather, how work has been calm compared to other seasons, or how he knew that the two would finish this mission quickly, per usual fashion.

The only one answering would be you, though, in an attempt to escape this uncomfortable situation, but you were only able to do so much when Naoya’s occasional scoffs ruined the mood.

A discreet sigh of relief managed to escape your manager’s lips upon arriving, for it meant that he’d finally be freed of the crossfires of your and Naoya’s rocky relationship—he hated to desire this on you, but whatever happens from this point forward, it’s solely your issue.

“Check-ins are every hour” he reiterates. “All you need to do is—”

“Search the building, assess the amount of cursed energy, identify said energy, and get rid of any lingering curses.” You repeat, he smiles. Naoya rolls his eyes.

“Once done, just call me and I’ll pick you up.”

Aside from the irritation caused by the obvious flirting nature of your manager, Naoya was exasperated that he’d been essentially assigned to a recon mission. Why is he even considered for such things…?

“Thank you” you say, giving the manager one last nod; knowing his job to be done, the man turns around, gets into the car, and drives away.

Now alone, Naoya is the first one to voice his consistent displeasure for this arrangement.

“Let’s get this sham of a mission done.”

You remain silent as you trail him, careless if he was being followed by you or not, to the entrance, with him eventually opening the doors and stepping inside.

Naoya gives the main hallway a quick look of disdain, while well kept, the building has obviously been abandoned for quite some time. Nothing scary, not thrilling as he usually strives to partake—this really couldn’t be the worst mission of the—

“A school” you say, unsure if he knew.

“Huh?” he frowns, thoughts interrupted. He didn’t.

“This used to be a school back in the day.” You continue. “Apparently, this place has been plagued by rumors of curse sightings since forever, but it isn’t until one of those rumors was eventually linked to a gruesome incident that the principal decided to take them seriously, but it was too late; the parents were deeply upset by it and demanded the school to be closed. And that’s how it’s been since then.”

Naoya remains quiet, but his face carries a look that tells you he wasn’t interested in whatever history this place may or may not have, all he wants to do is finish and go back home.

You press your lips together, before sighing.

“From the top” Is the only thing Naoya says in response, and soon the two head to the last floor, starting to check every room from left to right. Naoya suggested that both go separately in order to cover more areas faster, but you counter by hinting that curses might know they’re there, so it was better to leave your technique set up to inform of future movements.

Naoya ends up unwillingly agreeing to your observation, staying behind as you set up a net of cursed strings, perfectly applied so that as soon as the slightest movement, disturbance, and all in between happens, you know of it.

Going through this same process through every room was tedious work by itself, enough for Naoya to slowly grow more and more irritated—but his emotions do not culminate until after you set up setting everything up and do one last checkup, coming to the realization that there was no threat to begin with.

No major cursed energy, or lingering curses. Nothing

Nada.

This whole mission had been for nothing, and all because everything was cleared before they even arrived.

And this made Naoya infuriated.

“Are you serious? We came here to an empty, ugly building that’s supposed to be filled to the brim with cursed energy, only to find out there’s literally nothing?! HQ is turning into a joke!” He hisses. “I should give them a piece of my mind when I return—who do they think they are, wasting the time of the Zen’in heir?! What are we supposed to do now?!”

He didn’t know what he was expecting as a response from you, possibly to agree with him, although you calling your manager to pick them up was very high up the list—but he can at least safely say that you gently wrapping your arms around him from behind and pulling him against you was not one of them.

An action so unexpected that it was enough to keep him silent while you rest your head against his back.

“I don’t like it when you get angry” you murmur softly. “It makes me sad.”

Any other person would’ve probably kept their distance from him, waited for him to cool down and then approach him. Or maybe never at all, depending of the severity of his words.

But that was for the majority, if not everyone else but you. Because the relationship you had with him was different, far from the fellow, heavily disliked sorcerer that has the misfortune of commonly getting paired up with him.

Oh, it was far more intimate than that. It was the reason why Naoya treated you the way he did, and why you treated him the way you did.

Why he had to act like he disliked you, like the mere thought of you was enough to make him vomit, no other woman in the world holding this privilege from him.

Because the two were dating—had been for a bit over a year now—and due to the noisy nature of their families and the prospects of their career, had to act like they didn’t.

“It’s not like I enjoy getting angry too, princess. But look at this shit show they pulled us into” he scowls, you feel him tense up a bit. “I’ve told them many times before that I don’t want these shitty missions when I’m clearly capable of doing more!”

“Not even with me?” you pout, gently squeezing him. He sighs.

“It’s nothing against you, baby” Naoya admits, placing his hands over yours. “I just can do more.”

“I know” you smile, hugging him tighter “I know you can do more.”

“What are going to do about this failure of a mission? I should report them for even putting us in something like this—”

“Actually, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” You say, he raises an eyebrow. “Because I know why there’s nothing here to begin with.”

“And why do you know that…?”

“Because I was the one that cleared it out” you state proudly, he blinks.

“What? What do you mean you cleared it?” he frowns.

“It was easy—just had to ask my manager to inform me of any missions HQ was considering putting us together, and work from there.” You reveal. “And as soon as I knew the type of mission it was, I went ahead, cleared it up, and the rest is history.”

“How’d you get the manager to do that?” Naoya asks. “I thought we couldn’t—"

“Let’s say I’m very persuasive.” you chuckle, he frowns. “Not like that of course.”

“Didn’t look like it earlier…”

You pout.

“I just want you.” You murmur, he smirks.

“I know.”

Silence.

“So… what do we do know? What’s gonna happen to the paperwork? Or the rest of the hours…” Naoya asks, but thankfully, you’ve long anticipated all that, given the way your hands slowly trail down to the waistband of his hakama.

A gesture that unwillingly tenses him at first, before smirking.

“What’s gotten into you?” he teases, you pout.

“…What? It’s the first time we’re alone since a long time…”

“And that’s what got you in the mood?” He might be acting like he isn’t amused by your antics, like he’s above your feelings, but the reality was so different.

Naoya can admit that he wasn’t expecting this turn of events, but what he won’t deny is that he’s all for it.

You nod.

“I missed my boyfriend…” you murmur. “But I’m upset with you too.”

“Huh? What for?”

“Because of the way you were treating me. Acting like you hate me…”

“It’s just an act, baby—we can’t have them finding out our relationship.”

“You could’ve been a bit nicer.”

“I’m sorry” he chuckles, turning around to see you and your adorable face pouting at him. “Shall I make it up to you.”

You nod.

“Let me call a taxi, then. We can at least use the hours for—"

But you stop him before he can even reach for his phone, making him confused.

“I thought you wanted—"

“I can’t wait” you insist. “I need you now.”

Naoya’s eyes widen, and then, he smirks.

“I knew you were deprived—but never to this extent.”

You don’t respond, at least not with words, opting to instead pull on his collar and bring him down to face level, where you’d lips would take his into a heated kiss, your tongue moving past his lips and into his mouth, eagerly showing your desperation for him as your hands pull him even closer to you.

Naoya expresses the same sentiment by placing his arms around you, his hand on your back and the other behind your head, keeping you still but close to him—and whatever anger he had for this wrongly assigned mission is quickly discarded in favor of drowning in his desire for you.

The only reason they ever separated from the other is because of air, had this not been an issue, the two would’ve overlooked this detail and kept on like that.

However, another reason for this distance would be your needs, those that could only be met with something more than a kiss, so when you finally pull away from him, you waste no time guiding him into the next course.

“Let’s go upstairs—I know where.”

“Here?” Naoya breathes, somewhat dizzy from the kiss. You nod. “I wouldn’t call this the best place to do that.”

“I know… but I want to” you admit. “I’ve been planning this for a long time.”

“To do it on a mission?”

You bite your lip—Naoya’s cock twitches.

“You vixen…” he hisses, allowing you to take his hide and move to the stairs.

You never understood the thrill behind the exhibitionism of doing it on… anywhere, really. More so in morally correct places.

Like a school, for example, which was the most common place where you’d heard these things happen, more so when you were still a student.

Whenever professors discussed this distasteful situation amongst the class, reprimanding them in hopes of lessening their occurrence, you knew someone had recently been caught doing such a thing, which made your face scowl out of disgust, wondering who in their right mind would fuck at a high school??

And that’s what you consistently thought through your whole life… that is, until you met Naoya.

That’s when you understood why couples couldn’t keep hands off each other, no matter the place, no matter the time—and it didn’t help that Naoya was a really good lover…

So eventually, everything you did, everything you said, everything you breathed was for him.

It’s like you stopped existing all together, or more like you solely existed for him. Completely making you his.

Oh, how you loved Naoya.

And loved fucking him too.

So now that you get the thrill behind doing it in questionable places, you have a checklist of where you want to be with him. A mission just happened to be on the top of the list.

“On the second floor” you say. “We can do it there.’

“You really did plan everything, didn’t you?” he snickers, you squeeze his hand.

“I just missed you so much, Naoya…” you murmur.

“And you couldn’t wait for the weekend?”

You shake your head.

“I want you now.” You frown.

“Alright, alright—I’m all yours.”

The two eventually arrive to an abandoned classroom, one you previously disclosed as adequately prepared for your… lascivious activities, due to the desk it had. Once inside, you waste no time to push Naoya against the wall and begin to kiss him passionately yet again, with your fingers nimbly unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it to the floor before moving onto his pants, untying his belt and easing him out of the garment, leaving him with nothing but his underwear and his hardening cock.

The sight of his bulge makes you smile, finding it adorable that even the smallest of gestures could get him like this; it was flattering, really, the effect you had on your boyfriend… and it just made your desire for him grow even more.

“Y/N—” he moans against your lips, hands trailing all over your body, starting by your breasts, kneading them harshly before going down to your waistband, tugging and pulling at it as if to urge you to act. “Y/N—take off your clothes, now.”

His wish is granted soon after, with you quickly removing your skirt and tossing onto the nearby pile of clothes, giving him a sight that makes his breath hitch up to his throat.

If his cock wasn’t completely hard by your previous actions, it is now.

“You’re not wearing underwear” He breathes. “All this time, at the car—you were wearing nothing.”

“I wanted to be ready” you say. “I didn’t want to waste my time with silly things.”

“Fuck—Y/N” he laughs. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You don’t respond, instead, you get down on your knees, pulling down his boxers and taking out his cock, which now sprung completely up to life.

“Maybe” you lick your lips—his size remains impressive even after all this time. “Most definitely after this”

You wrap your hands around his throbbing member, relishing it’s warmth underneath your skin as you stroke it, eventually leaning forward, giving it a kiss before taking out your tongue and circling the tip with him.

Naoya hisses at the warm, wet sensation of your tongue teasing over and over again the head of his cock, before it moved down to the shaft, passing through the prominent vein on the underside and eventually settling at the base, where you’d fondle at his balls also giving them a kiss, before finally taking him into your mouth.

Keeping eye contact with him was of your upmost priority when doing this, because the sight of his tightly shut eyes, clenched jaw, and the harsh grapples to your hair, always made you coo. For as much as he liked to behave arrogantly, as if he were above indulging in these pleasures, it really didn’t take much for him to succumb to your touches.

You take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, only stopping when his cock was finally nestled deep into your throat, nose touching his pelvis, and staying there as to get used to the intruding sensation.

Once you do, you do not hesitate to pull back, all the way up to the tip as you slid your tongue against his shaft, before pushing your head back down and taking him completely once more, bobbing your head up and down, loudly slurping as your tongue licked whatever on it’s way, covering his cock with a thick layer of your saliva so as to prepare him for what’s to come.

As you continued to do so, Naoya slowly began to feel more and more warm, mind going fuzzy at the sight of you earnestly devouring him, with the sounds of your slurps, or the fact that you were completely naked before him, sucking him off in a place he would’ve never once considered, highlighting your true debauched nature underneath that innocent play you always put up.

His orgasm was already on its way the moment your mouth graced his cock, been thinking of nothing but seeking his own release, grappling the back of your head and moving you to his pace of preference—but the moment you look up to him, with those damned doe eyes that always drove him crazy, is when he finally knows he’s about to cum.

So, he tightly grapples your head even further, keeping a steady speed he knows will make him cum soon enough, more so when you’re moaning and groaning, sending vibrations to his cock that just make his knees buckle, fingers dwindling their hold on you as his breath becomes ragged, more erratic, lightheartedly debating whether to finish inside the warmness of your mouth, or raunchily mark your face with his seed—one thing is for sure, no matter what he chooses, he’d loose whatever inhibitions he had left.

However, that was not something for him to decide, perhaps never was, for the moment you hear a familiar whimper from his mouth, the one that let you know he was near, you pushed your head further into him, taking his cock completely and placing your hands on his legs to keep him from moving, which he immediately tried to do when startled by your intentions.

“Y/N—Y/N” He breathes, trying his best to not completely succumb to his pleasures, but of course, that was nothing but silly dreaming of his. And in a deeper part of himself, he didn’t want to miss out on this. “I’m going to—”

It didn’t take long for him to come undone. Not when you continued to bob your head up and down his shaft, groaning and moaning at every movement, licking just where you knew he liked, making his cock twitch and then—thick spurts of his seed fill your mouth, it’s warmth briefly burning your tongue before swallowing whole, hollowing your cheeks so as to not allow any of it spill and quickly liking your lips to clean up any remnants once you free his cock from your grip.

You’d look up to him, with a flustered, expectant look that gave off the idea you were looking for approval, his commendation for a job well done, for taking him like a good girl…

Or not—

Because Naoya wouldn’t be able to say a word before you’re him back into your mouth, and wasting no time to do the same as before, bobbing your head up and down, all with the intentions of making him cum once more.

Naoya wasn’t even done coming down from the mind-numbing sensation his first orgasm gave him, before he’s already on his way for the second—and it’s here that he realizes he might’ve underestimated your lust, making him worry, for the first time in his life, what the hell is going to happen to the mission.

“Y/N—you—what’s—what’s gotten into you?!” He breathes, doing his best to distract himself from the heat and nasty slurps coming your mouth, the lewd noise of your fingers now swiftly playing with your dampened cunt, and the possibility that called your intense actions to be result of being possessed by a demon of lust—or—or something!

“The—the mission!”

Naoya would whimper, not that he really cared for something he didn’t even want from the very start, but that was all he could muster in defense of the overwhelming pleasures you were giving him, causing you to slowly free his cock from your warm mouth, tip connected to your lips by a string of saliva.

“We were given 3 hours to complete this mission, weren’t we?” you breathe, licking your lips. Naoya nods. “Then we’re going to be just fine…”

If this is how it’s going to be for the next hours, Naoya isn’t so sure he’ll live to tell the tale…

But if he was being completely honest, however, the thought of being completely subdued in pleasure with the woman he loves most, alongside the unconventional place this was all partaking in, is one that has him thrilled with anticipation, a debauchery he didn’t think himself capable of ever experiencing in his life, yet here he is, proved wrong.

So, after you reassure him for the second time that day that the mission was taken care of, he completely gave himself to you.

You’d end up making him come two more times before finally freeing him of his torment, giving him one last clean, pick-up whatever traces of cum were left behind with your tongue, before giving the tip a kiss, standing up soon after and removing what was left of your clothes, the two now completely naked.

From there, Naoya seizes your lips into a heated kiss where he was able to taste both himself and you before placing his hands over your waits and guide you to the nearby desk, where he intends to take you for the first time that day.

“Turn around” he breathes in between kisses, expecting you to obey, but instead of doing so, you whine.

“No— I don’t wanna.” you pout, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, kissing him again.

“Really, princess?” he smirks, loving the vivid contrast in your behavior: acting all shy as if you weren’t a complete, desperate whore seconds ago. “What do you want, then?”

“I want to ride you” you confess, and to your words, all he can do is chuckle out of amusement.

“What’s gotten into you?” he says—you’re rarely this assertive, always the one to let him take control instead (although he’s the one that pushes himself into that position, you just let him)

But now, you’re all over him, and not only that, but you seem to have a clear vision of what you want, he was only there for the ride.

And this… was so much better than he ever thought it would be.

“I missed you, baby…” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “I missed you so, so much.”

His heart squeezes with longing at your adorableness, and the desire to please you in anything you wanted, anything you said, completely overrules any previous sentiment.

Yet, there’s another side of him that stops him from it—tells him to not comply easily.

That he could make you work for it a bit before finally indulging you, especially after the way you treated him a few moments ago. And could you blame him? It’s all in his teasing nature, to see you beg for him in the same adorable way you’ve done before.

Something he knows you also love no matter how much you complain about it.

“If you’re always going to be this needy, then maybe we should keep apart for longer—”

But his teasing stops being fun when you, instead of begging him as he was expecting to see, give him a stern frown, followed by pressing your hands against his chest and beginning to push him away, showing how annoyed you were by his “playful” suggestion, which had nothing of playful—to you, it was straight up hurtful, because you truly did miss him…

And Naoya is quick to react, giving you a soft chuckle before pulling you closer to him—you keep retaliating.

“Ah, don’t be like that princess.” Naoya coos. “You know I was just teasing.”

But you don’t respond, instead, you look away, trying to peel away from the kisses he began to place on your cheek, down to your jaw, and to your neck…

“That not—that’s not nice” you whine. “I don’t like being away from you for too long….”

“I know, I know… I can see that” he murmurs. “and feel it too.”

Naoya doesn’t give you any further warning before plunging his fingers deep into your cunt, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch your walls as much as possible, only to find himself with failure, a feeling that proved to be much sweeter than what one could imagine, for he wholeheartedly relished on the fact that the tightness of your walls barely allowed him to move his fingers, less stretch you as he initially anticipated.

If anything, all he could do was tease and rub the spots he just knows would make you come undone, which he started to prepare given the way you began to squirm and whine against him, tightly holding onto his arm as you try to move him away, make him stop, but the forming waves of your orgasm just made your mind warm, fuzzy, the closer and closer you got to your release.

“N—No—Naoya!” you gasp, closing your eyes. “I don’t—I don’t want it like this!”

“Oh, I thought you did, my love.” He teases back, fingers unrelenting. Naoya just loves seeing you getting a taste of your own medicine. “After all, you’re squeezing my fingers so tightly, you’re going to cut them off!”

And the thought that his cock will be in the same predicament in just a few moments… it’s enough to harden him even more.

How do you even do it?

“No… please” you whine again, unwillingly clenching on his fingers. Naoya hisses.

“Then what do you want—tell me what do you want” He breathes against your ear, moving one of his fingers to your bud and teasing it, mercilessly, and this is when Naoya finally feels you’re seconds away from cumming.

“I want to ride you” you cry desperately, almost as if depriving you for one more second of your release would be your death. “I want to ride you, Naoya—please, please, please.”

And who is he to deny his princess, after she begged so nicely?

“Alright, baby” he says, freeing his fingers from your warm tightness and licking the remnants of your slick; the sudden void inside your cunt made you whine in protest, but you were swiftly quieted with a heated kiss, where he’d moan against your lips, before smiling, pulling away, and signaling the beginning of the long day ahead of him.

“I’m all yours.”

Already drunken with his presence, you waste no time guiding him onto the nearby pile of clothes, which you used to form some kind of mat for him to lay on, gently pushing him so he’d lay his back completely onto the floor before proceeding to straddle him.

Naoya’s hands rest on your hips as you begin to accommodate yourself by lightly raising your hips and grabbing his cock with your left hand, rubbing the shaft against your dampened cunt for lubrication, before aligning the tip towards your tight rim.

You were just less than a few seconds away from pushing the head of his cock into you, seconds that seemed eternal to both you and Naoya, but even when completely captivated by your hypnotizing pleasures, your boyfriend was still able to remember one last caution, snapping out of the alluring sight of his cock millimeters away of entering your cunt and using his hands to stop you in place, an action that made the impatient you frown and look to him in turn.

“Baby—the condom” Naoya explains. And while he’s loved the idea of fucking you raw for as long as he could remember, he wasn’t ready for the risks that came after.

But just as you hinted, you had meticulously prepared everything for this evening, down to the smallest details—and there was nothing that would ruin it. Not even the scare of a baby.

“I’m on the pill” you murmur, moving your hips against him. Naoya groans. “Today, I only want your cum to be inside me—whether on my mouth, pussy… Or ass”

Truly, he must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“You’re amazing.” He whispers, before hissing when you finally decide to sit down on him, plunging the head of his cock past your tight rim and into your warm walls, groaning as his member is now completely engulfed in dizzying tightness of your cunt, slowly stretched as he moves deeper and deeper, until he’s bottomed completely, nestling just by your cervix.

Once he felt he’s gotten as profound as he could, Naoya sighs, tossing his head back and enjoying how you slowly begin to jump up and down his cock, as if testing the speed, before finding a pace of your liking and committing to it—his hands, while resting on your hips, do nothing to control you, instead he just lets you guide him through your pleasure, letting you use him as your own personal sex toy, while taking care of his pent up stress caused by this stupid mission and other endeavors.

His mind turns into a blur at the sight of your tits bouncing before him, which he didn’t take long to take a hold of, fondling and pinching to his liking which in turn caused you to moan louder, barely overcoming the lewd noises of your skin slapping against him, which he knew would’ve made him cum instantly had he gotten the fortune of seeing your ass bouncing before him instead.

But what he gets is good too, specifically your contorted face, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape and letting out your lovely voice, which sweetly whined and moaned his name whenever his cock hit that sensitive spot, and as loud as your heart desired for there was no one around to hear.

“I’m going to run out of a name, my love” Naoya would still find it in him to tease you, even when you relentlessly continued to bounce over him. And on the same note, he would still overestimate the neediness in your actions, given the way you’d respond, hazily looking down to him.

“I love you.” You murmur, leaning into his face for a kiss, which he obliges all too happily. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You’d chant between kisses, squeaking every so often when he plunges his hips upwards, directly ravaging your sensitive spot.

“You’re so adorable, Y/N” He breathes, continuing to rut against you. “So pretty, so cute—How did manage to get so lucky?”

His words seem to have a positive effect on you, as seen with the tightening of your walls and the loudness of your moan while hastily moving against him, up and down his cock to achieve that ecstatic rush, that sensation that makes your head go blank and your vision white.

“Nao—Naoya—” you stammer, gasping as you lean back up while continuing to jump on him. “Naoya—I’m—I’m almost—"

“I know, baby—I know” he hisses, having felt your orgasm building up long ago by the way your hips sloppily moved against him, the hindering of your fingers intertwined with his, and of course, the drunken look on your face, slightly crossed eyed, cheeks flustered, evidently made from nothing but pleasure.

The perfect excuse to tease you—he just had to.

Thus, he presses his hands deeper into your hips, with such force that manages to stop you from moving, keeping you still no matter how much you tried, much to your dismay.

“Naoya” You try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his sly smirk tells you all. “Stop it—please.”

“What? I’m not doing anything” he says. “You keep doing you, baby—”

“Stooop iiiiit!!” you whine once more, trying to remove his hands, but his fingers only dent deeper into your skin. “Naoya! I want to cum!”

“I’m not stopping you” he chuckles. “Come on—show me how much you want to cum.”

Pressing your lips together, you frown.

If he’s going to play like that, then you guess you could give him a taste of his own medicine, see how he likes being teased too.

“I don’t want it anymore” you say. “I’m leaving—you can get off by yourself!”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N—"

“I don’t care” you interject. “And while you stay here, I’m going out there to find someone that will fuck me good—maybe even better…”

Oh.

Is that how you’re going to play? Oh, you’ve done it now.

“Excuse me?” Naoya frowns. “What did you just say?”

“I’m going to find someone that will give me what I want.” You continue, a bit satisfied by the anger showing in his face—he didn’t like it so much now, did he? “Whenever I want it, and when I want it.”

“Oh, is that so?” he murmurs darkly. “That’s what you’re going to do? Find another man to fuck you?”

“Yes, I am—so if you excuse, I have to fi—”

You don’t even know how or when Naoya gained control over you, only that you were now on his position, with your back laying against the ground, legs raised over his shoulders and pressed against your torso while his arms encased you, all whilst looking down at you with such fury in his eyes that lets you know you’ve personally offended him.

“Do you think anyone else can do what I do?!” He hisses. “Think anyone can fuck you as I do? Make you cum as I do?!”

He’s asking as if he’s searching for a response, but you both knew he wasn’t, not when he began to plunge deep into your cunt once again, fast, deep, like a mad man completely lost in both his lust and anger, berating you once again.

“You’re wrong” He groans, huffing as his skin slaps against yours, keeping you closer, tighter, and beneath him. “You’re wrong Y/N—you’re mine.”

You moan, tightening at his words.

“You’re wrong—all of you is mine, you’re mine, mine, mine, mine!” Naoya groans, completely in trance for the warmth of your pussy and the anger in his mind, the jealousy, for the barest notion of you being out there with someone else was enough to do so—he wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow it, you’re his and only his.

And he—he would die if it weren’t that way.

“Naoya—” you cry, his harsh ministrations managing to bring tears out from your eyes, but far from being those of pain, it was nothing but pure pleasure, as if you haven’t been losing yourself to that sensation moments ago,

There was just something of his possessiveness that always drove you to the edge, his dominance which you could never fight, allowing him to stretch your cunt in ways you didn’t think possible, ravaging your cervix as quickly, yet painfully good, in an unrelenting way you just had to take it.

And you loved it.

Naoya thought he’d gotten control of you, but really, you played him like a fiddle; knew what buttons to push, what words to say to rile him up.

In your defense, though, you didn’t like how arrogant he was being, more so after disclosing how much you missed him, past the way he was actively avoiding you even if it were to keep up appearances.

Besides, you doubt he’s going to care that much after this, considering the way he’s plummeting against you.

“Yeah—say my name” he groans against your ear, pushing your legs deeper towards your chest, keeping you there to treat you like a toy, his own cumdump, and nothing more. “Say the name of the one that’s making you cum, whore!”

“Na—Naoya~” you whine with each thrust, a surge of hotness washing over your body at the lewd name. Any other moment you would’ve refuted him, but here, like this—yeah, you were his whore.

The only one.

“Naoya, Naoya! I’m—It’s so—It’s so good! I’m going to cu—”

“Take it” he hisses, leaning impossibly closer to you—and you feel as if you’re about to pass out. “Take what I give you—take my cum—take me, take me!!”

The desperation on his voice, alongside the subtle twitch of his cock and the sloppiness of his hips tell you his very, very close to his orgasm.

The louder his groans, the hotter his breath felt against your ear, the more you shivered underneath him, and when he hits that one angle, you tightly close your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, whimpering his name one last time and then— your mind goes blank.

Naoya cums, spilling his warm, sticky seed as far and deep as he could into your cunt, coating every inch of your walls as he fills you to the brim—a sensation that only heightens your orgasm, eyes dizzy and mouth agape as your walls tighten once more, letting the waves of your release numb your body, all while he keeps you in place, forcing you to take all of him, just as he promised.

It might’ve been his 4th load of the day, but Naoya still felt like there was so much he could give, especially after seeing you like this, prettily sprayed out underneath him, taking his seed like a good girl while you proclaim your love for him, chanting it as some kind of mantra that would kill you if you didn’t continue to do so, even for the briefest of seconds…

Could he really be blamed if he desired to continue, after seeing all this? Besides, this was barely the minimum to make up for the weeks you’ve spent apart from him, he needed much more than that.

After coming down from the haze of his orgasm, Naoya gives you one last look before smiling.

Naoya wasn’t lying when he asked how he’d gotten so lucky to find a partner as perfect as you; he just… couldn’t believe that he had managed to find his better half in this life, or at all, when he once considered himself to be a skeptic in these matters.

But he did. Naoya found the one that would accept him as he was, with his defects, his faults, his virtues, and achievements. Someone that would look at him lovingly, even after ravaging them, and still seek for their affection, just as you were doing right now by weakly reaching for his lips and softly kissing him—undoubtedly reeling in the aftereffects of your first orgasm of the day.

…

Yes.

There’s no denying it, he had to admit it now.

The fact that even though you were the first one to declare how much you missed him, and planned all this as consequence of such, he was the one that missed you the most, and was ecstatic to hear that the main thing that kept the two apart would finally bring them together.

Oh, how he hated it when his duties as sorcerer came in between the two. How he also had to act like he didn’t care for you, show disdain at the mere mention of your name, see how others wished to pursue something more intimate with you, and not be able to tell them you were already his.

There’s not a single day he doesn’t think about you.

In fact, you’re all he ever thinks about—you.

You.

“I love you” overflowing with affection for you, he eventually murmurs, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you, Y/N.”

You give him a soft smile, heart flourishing upon hearing the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him—the things that he’d only disclose when in the confines of your arms, away from the prying eyes of the world, and just between the two.

“I love you too, Naoya.” you whisper back, softly kissing him. And something about your soft gesture, the tenderness behind your voice or the way your cunt twitched ever so lightly, immediately springs his cock back to life, wasting no time to slowly rutting his hips against you once again, making you whine in turn for you were still sensitive past your orgasm…

But that didn’t matter, not when you’ve already lost all inhibitions, allowing yourself to dive into the pleasure the man you love was giving you, and forgetting the world around you.

Naoya would take you once more in that position before moving you to your knees, amongst his favorite ways to take you, where he’d be able to knead and slap your ass to his liking, marking it bright red to the point where he’d knew you’d have issues doing the simplest of tasks such as sitting down—but it’s ok, he reassures you, he’s going to make it up to you just the way you begged him to; starting by filling you with his cum over and over again.

He'd didn’t want to move from this position, certainly not after seeing how eagerly you were throwing your hips back to him, putting up a pace even he considered to be unusual for you, but he doesn’t fight it, if anything, he allows you to take lead it’s the least you deserve after treating his cock so nicely, squeezing it just how he likes it, or frantically keeping it warm as given the way you’d reach for his cock whenever it would accidentally slip out of your cunt, quick to put it back in and continue.

“Aren’t you the desperate one?” He laughs, his right hand loudly smacking your ass as he continued to plunge his hips against you, the sharp pain makes you moan, but not falter in your pace. If anything, you just go faster. “What? You’re too fucked dumb to answer me now?”

“Naoya—Naoya please” you whine, eyes closed, tears falling down your cheeks, thinking in nothing but the way his cock stretches and fills you deliciously, rubbing all the right places not even your fingers would dream of achieving. “I want to cuuummmm!”

Wanting to take you up on your offer, Naoya then moves to your ass. He begins by down before him, ass up, allowing him to place his fingers right into your tight hole, stretching and teasing to ease the pain he knows you’re going to feel in the beginning.

And while you were delighted that he was doing so, in more ways than one, it wouldn’t take long before his good-natured intentions began to frustrate you, specifically because he seemed to be leaning more into the teasing side of things, doing so for what you considered an eternity.

“Hurry up, Naoya!” you’d whine, moving your hips to denote desperation, but he just chuckles.

“I don’t want to hurt my princess’ ass.” He says, curling his fingers inside you and making you gasp. “Who’s going to keep my cock warm if Ido?”

“You can—you can always use my pussy….” You breathe, and he has to stop himself from—wait. Does he even have to?

“You’re a whore, did you know that?” Naoya smirks, spreading one of your cheeks as he finally presses the tip against your rim.

“Yes—but only your whore.”

Even as malicious as Naoya can be, more so after the way you teased him and the hypnotic state the pleasures of your body put him under, he was still able to contain himself while moving into your ass, showing his gentleness—always reserved for you, of course— by leaning forward and kissing your cheek whenever you groaned out of what he considered discomfort, patiently moving his cock alongside your walls, letting you get used to the sensation, while asking you if you were ok.

“Does it hurt?” He’d whisper, kissing you softly.

“N—no…” you murmur back, instinctively squeezing his cock. “I’m ok.”

And the cute way you respond makes him smile, giving you one last kiss before pushing deeper and faster into your ass once you tell him you’re ready to continue.

He keeps a steady pace, one that makes both see stars, specifically Naoya who has yet to make sense as to how could you possibly squeeze him so tight, but keeping him rooted in reality, enough to hold you close to him, reassuring you it was fine whenever you whined, or praising you for being a good girl and taking him whole, like you always did.

Naoya ends up losing count of how many times he’s cum by that point, and you didn’t care to keep count either, for all that both could care about was staying as close as possible, until neither knew where one began and the other ended.

Both just wanted to think of each other, of their body, their warmth, the safety they felt when together, as well as the passion of their desires—their adoration.

The thought that the two were perfect for one another, in more ways than one, was constant, but today, it was nothing but clear.

It’s all that resonated inside Naoya’s mind as he thrusted deep inside you. Not even the need for a break was enough to sway him away from it, even after going at it for hours, forgetting to do the hourly check-in’s they were supposed to do—and that was nothing but the fault of the lewd sight before him, of his cum having filled you to the brim to the point that whenever he moved his cock drops would flood past your rim.

The rest of the world could burn, for all they cared, but as long as they had each other, that’s all they needed. That’s all they wanted—

He doesn’t think he can do it anymore.

Deny his feelings any longer, not when he’s given this, relentlessly, lovingly; a warmth that made him feel at ease whenever near, wanting nothing but to be in your arms, see your face, hear your voice.

Feeling himself become delirious if you’re not there, to the point of throwing everything overboard if he doesn’t get to see you soon.

These weeks were pure agony, and Naoya doesn’t want to handle that kind of pain anymore. Not when he can feel like this, every day, for the rest of his life.

Even as weeks passed, his sentiments to you remained the same. Unbudging, if only growing stronger…

You were his heart, his home…

And perhaps… it was time to let you know.

So, while holding you tight, in place, and against him, Naoya would cum one more time, softly groaning against your ear before moving to your lips, where he’d catch them into a tender kiss, eventually revealing the desire that has been on his mind for a while, but only now was his heart ready to disclose.

“Marry me.” He’d murmur, his tone gentle, sweet, hinting nothing but the truth behind his words—

Yet, caught by surprise, all you could do is freeze against him, tensing underneath his hold as you wondered if you heard wrong—or perhaps… correctly?

“Wh—what?” you whisper, as if afraid to have heard wrong… or perhaps, correctly?

“Marry me, Y/N. Move in with me” he breathes, giving you another kiss. “And marry me.”

“Naoya…” you murmur, but too enthralled in his excitement, he continues to ramble on.

“Come with me to the estate, or we can buy an apartment—it doesn’t matter. But don’t leave me alone anymore. I can’t—I can’t live without you any longer. So please, marry me.” Naoya begs while his face on the crook of your neck, as if embarrassed, but eagerly waiting for your answer.

But instead, he’s received with silence, alongside the acknowledgment of the tension of your body against him, and the undeniably lack of excitement he thought you’d have for his words, for he believed you’d feel the same, and such, he slowly began to realize that maybe he should’ve kept it to himself.

There was a reason why he was afraid of being disappointed, after all, and why you hadn’t said anything of the like before.

If you wanted to marry him, perhaps you would’ve let him know by now. But you hadn’t, and now, he asks himself why he ignored his instincts for something so fleeting, ruining what little time both had for one another.

“Forget it, Y/N.” He begins, pulling away from you. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was uncalled for, something at the heat of the moment, I didn’t mea—"

“Do you… mean it?” you begin, low as a whisper, but loud enough for him to stop. He could hear the fear in your voice, his heart squeezing with sadness, making him feel even more guilty. “Do you really… want to marry me?”

“I never knew I wanted something so much… until I met you.” Naoya immediately says, in his usual fashion to see you happy, more so when seeing the corners of your eyes begin to tear up—whether remnants of previous activities, of because of this surprise… he doesn’t care, he’s quick to cup your face and softly kiss them away. “I love you, Y/N. And I want to spend the rest of my days with you.”

“Are you… sure?” You ask, a hesitance that reflects fear of being hurt, or that this was nothing but a dream; too good to be true.

But if there’s one thing you’ve come to know about Naoya, is that even in his playful nature, he’d never, ever lie to you. Less with the intention of hurting you. Not when he’s already told you over and over again, that you’re the love of his life.

“I mean it. I mean all of it.” He’d reassure you, thumbs swiping your tears. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and the next one, and the one after that, if you allow me.”

You tried to find any hint of deceit, anything that might indicate he was lying; but as mentioned before, Naoya is a man that holds no fear when it comes to being assertive, and as all that surrounds you, he’s nothing but honest.

“So please” He murmurs as he slowly begins to rut against you once again, pressing his lips against your neck and making your breath hitch. “Marry me.”

You moan, beginning to feel pressure building up in your cunt for the nth time as he continues to chant the words you’ve longed to hear since the moment you knew he was your soulmate.

“I love you, Y/N’ he breathes, clenching his teeth as the buildup of his orgasm comes far earlier than he anticipated, perhaps it was the sensibility of this tender moment, or because you just had something that drove him crazy; but he doesn’t give it much attention, nor does he care how many times he’s cum or how much he’s got left. All that matters is being with you, close, like this—and the notion that this might be a permanent thing now, if you so desired it. “Marry me, my love.”

That he’ll come back from a long day of work to the home the two will build, and you’ll be there, waiting for him, as loving and adorable as you always are, ready to ease his sorrows away.

“I love you.”

Naoya ends up coming inside you at the thought, all whilst holding you tightly against him, taking in your scent, while you remain still arms wrapped around him and taking one more load, which you thought to be impossible since your tummy felt full beyond capacity, proven right when his seed begins to drip out your cunt and beneath you, a clear fault against your condition; but a minor complaint when it comes to what just happened.

You just wanted to focus on the man who just disclosed his desires to be with you… and telling him that you want the same thing.

“I do.” You whisper back, this time, you cup his face. “I want to marry you—I love you.”

And so, you seal your compromise to him by wrapping your arms around him and kissing him; your cunt equally holding onto him as his cock twitches a few more time, letting out the last spurs of his seed.

A sensation that warms your heart when you imagine that one day, you’d be doing the same thing in hopes of having a child.

But for now, you’d both continue to enjoy each other’s bodies, now with another level of adoration and anticipation for the future, until of course, Naoya decided it was time to be the responsible one, much to his dismay for he would’ve liked to not be, when said future begins to concern him—specifically, how long has it been since the two started.

“What—what time is it?” Naoya breathes, taking a deep breath as he lays beside you, resting as he slowly comes down from his nth bliss that day; he’d been in a constant state of fuzziness, it’s a mystery how he even thought of anything but you.

“I don’t know…” you murmur back, following him by placing your head over his shoulder, draping one of your arms around him and sighing contently. “But it’s still not enough for me…”

“Princess, as much as I’d like to stay inside you all day, we need to get back.” He says, you pout.

“Do we really?”

“I never thought I’d say this myself, but we have… duties to tend to.” You sigh again.

“Fine, I guess you’re right, but… we can’t leave like this.” You say, and the devilish smirk on your face passes undetected to him. “We need to get cleaned up.”

“What do you propose?”

It was quite easy, and nothing Naoya could disagree to at first, until he eventually realized this was just an extension of your lust, not willing to let him go just yet—but even then, he complied.

You’d have him lay down on the floor again this time, giving him a quick peck before you carefully hovered over him, adjusting yourself in a way that set his cock right before you while you pussy faced his. Once ready, you began to lower yourself over him in a position that easily allowed his tongue to tease your walls, while you, his cock.

Naoya slightly shudders when you take his cock in your mouth once again, beginning to do what you claimed to be cleaning, although he knew better than that, specifically by the way you’d lick the edge between the tip and his shaft, the areas you knew as sensitive, and how he ends up coming not so long after that.

“I thought you were supposed to be cleaning me.” He breathes; Naoya might be “annoyed” by your deceiving act, but it’s nothing but a hypocritical act for he ends up making you cum as well. “You’re just getting me dirtier.”

“Re—Really?” you whine, instinctively clenching your walls against his tongue by your orgasm. “Try not to get hard then…”

“That’s impossible” he says, clenching his teeth when your tongue licks that same vein that was always have him grow sensitive. “Not when I have my slutty wife’s cunt in front of me.”

At his words, you moan, unknowingly pressing your pussy into his face, making him grab your hips instead and keep you there, moving his tongue deeper into you and inciting another orgasm out of you.

Neither you nor Naoya know how they’re going to make it to the rest of the day, feelings virtually sucked dry by their strenuous actions, yet unwillingly to let go of the other; seems like the two were far more pent up than initially disclosed.

But even then, neither considered too bad—specially Naoya, who was thrilled by the notion that you would have to dress up in your uniform once again, head back to headquarters with your pussy filled with his cum, and with nothing, not even some panties to hold his seed from sliding down your thighs.

It certainly doesn’t make him want to “clean” your cunt as initially planned, not when it twitched so beautifully before him, as if teasing him, his seed overflowing past your rim, evidence of the countless times he marked you as his.

Well, he guesses he could reward her for her arduous work instead, succumbing to do so by beginning to softly kiss it, relishing on the combined flavor of his seed and your slick, a taste that immediately has him moaning, cock hardening as well.

You moan too upon feeling his cock harden inside your mouth, instinctively pushing your hips deeper into him, completely smothering him.

“Naoya—” you breathe, pulling away from his cock once his tongue graces a sensitive side of your walls that has you clenching on him. “Naoya—”

He only groans in response, particularly louder than before, coarser too, which only makes you feel prouder, hotter, as if he were enjoying himself even more than before. Did this really have to stop?

“Ah, yes, Naoya—” you whine, curling your toes. “Right there—Naoya, right—There!”

And your beloved future husband obliges, prodding and pushing his tongue just where you wanted, how you wanted it, pushing you closer to your release while greatly relishing your taste, as you imagined so due to the incessant, loud groans he was giving you. It was such your enjoyment for both your and his pleasure, that the need to turn around and see him began to overrule your senses.

You definitely want to lose the adorable face he must be having right now, didn’t want to miss this type of intimacy after being so far apart from one another; so without much time to waste, you give up on his cock, giving his shaft one last lick and the tip a quick kiss before licking your lips clean and leaning back, carefully to not hurt him as he kept eating you out, until you felt safe enough to turn around and see him.

The anticipation was killing you, you wanted to see him! But… just as you raised your dizzy eyes, thanks to the orgasm he was able to put you through that every moment, something before you catches your attention, temporarily hindering your movements as you attempted to focus your vision…

Running cold when you finally manage to see what it was, completely petrified when realizing the following revelations: one, that the groans you once believed came from Naoya and his undisputable enjoyment didn’t come from him, but rather, someone else.

And two, that the place was not as curse-free as you previously proudly assessed.

In other words, the one groaning had been a curse all along (Whether it had been aware of your activities from the very start, or just noticed it, you don’t know.) But most importantly, you’ve let your guard down and now placed both in danger, delicately so, since the two were in a very, very vulnerable position!

All sense of lust you had for Naoya quickly disappeared into thin air, now replaced with the urgency of leaving the goddamn classroom and getting him into safety.

“Naoya” you fret, trying to move, but he keeps you in place by the tight hold of his hands on your body. Great! “Naoya!”

“Yeah—yeah I know” he groans, completely consumed by your cunt—any other moment, you would’ve loved this, but now—this wasn’t the right time! “Keep squeezing my tongue, baby. You’re so cute when you—”

“No, Naoya!” you squeal. “It’s not that!”

Naoya has heard you scream a plethora of ways, most of them of his authorship—but even when this tone was scarce, he was still able to recognize it as one he did not want to hear from you ever in his life, certainly not like this, on the moment you should’ve been feeling nothing but worshiped.

So, alarms quickly begin to ring in his head, finally lifting his attention from your ass to you, wondering what could’ve put you in such a rush, eyes widening when finding out soon after.

“Y/N!” he gasps. Naoya doesn’t bother to ask why, or how such thing appeared before you, instead he focuses on maneuvering you off him and keeping you away from the imminent danger, swiftly using his technique to do just that.

Once Naoya completely exorcizes the curse out of existence, he was finally able to focus on you, regaining his breath as he tried to calm down the commotion.

“Are you ok?” he asks, to which you hesitate to respond at first, but you eventually nod.

“Yeah—I’m… I’m ok.” You breathe, trying to fight off the guilty beginning to settle into your heart; the one caused by the mere miscalculation of your surveillance. “But—"

Or worse, how you now compromised this area and mission, simply because you were too excited to see Naoya again…

“But the—the mission—I—what have I done?” you gasp, clasping your hands over your mouth once guilty finally roots itself in your mind. “Oh, Naoya—what did I—"

“Don’t worry about it” Naoya quickly intervenes, hating to see you like this, quickly wrapping his arms around you to take away your concerns. As stated before, he didn’t care about how the cursed spirit came to be, he just worried about your safety. “Sometimes curses can pass undetected, even to the most talented of sorcerers.”

“But I’m—I’m supposed to be one of the best!” you fuss. “How—why—”

“What matters is that we’re both ok.” Naoya reassures once again, and with enough insistence, you begin to take deep breaths, finally calming down, at least… a bit more.

“Oh, Naoya�� what are we going to do now?” you still manage to fret. He chuckles.

“Well… we ought to leave by now, shouldn’t we?” He says, and you press your lips together, frowning as you wondered how he could be so… at ease?

“But the mission… I filed—”

If there’s another thing you can count on (and shouldn’t forget so easily), is that Naoya always has a solution for everything. Perks of being a Zen’in, one supposes.

“I’ll worry about that” he says. Nothing money can do if that’s the case. “And instead… you can worry about our wedding.”

“Our wedding? But how could I—” you suddenly go quiet as color of your skin returns, but this time, a flustered bright red, as if finally remembering the shocking advancement that occurred today. “Our wedding…”

After a few seconds of thought and acknowledgement, you can finally enjoy the nice ring it has to it.

Our wedding. You repeat. In due time, you’ll be his wife and he’ll be your husband. Taking his name as you’d begin to live together… undoubtedly preparing for the future both will build the children you’re going to have…

If that’s the case, a simple mission does seem a bit redundant to this fact, but even then, you couldn’t help but worry—

“I have ways.” Is all that he says when noticing the slightest turmoil in your face. “I know they’re not the best, but for this occasion I think it can be… forgivable.”

“…are you sure?”

“Didn’t want you finding out like this, but I’ve done worse.” He says.

“Like in Sendai?”

“Yes, like in Sen—Huh?! Who told you that?!”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “I just said a random city, you’re the one that snitched on yourself.”

“Ah, hahahah, don’t act all smart on me, princess. You heard something, didn’t you?”

You shrug again, smiling.

“Y/N!”

“Let’s just hope that your skills in hiding things are better this time, my beloved husband.” You chuckle, and the nickname makes his heart skip a beat.

“You’re lucky you’re so adorable.” Naoya says, you chuckle, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips. “But yes, I’ll do my best to keep this hidden… we might only need to get creative to make up for the… six hours we’ve been away.”

Your concerns return. “Do you think we’ll be able to pull this off?”

Naoya still wants to show off.

“Of course, have you forgotten who your beloved husband is?” He smirks. “My love, the Zen’in name holds an amount of power no other family can compare to, not even the Gojo’s—so don’t worry about anything. In fact, I think that finding an excuse might not even be necessary; we’ll just say there was a curse of higher grade that managed to pass undetected, we dealt with it, and that’s it.”

“Sounds simple… do you think it’ll work?”

“Told you, didn’t I?” he says, leaning in for another kiss. “There’s nothing a Zen’in can’t do—and you’ll know so soon enough once you become one too.”

Y/N Zen’in.

… yeah, it has a nice ring to it. You wouldn’t mind being called that from now on.

“So don’t worry your pretty little head about anything—your husband will take care of it. Until then, worry about our wedding, or where you want to go after this…”

“A hotel.”

“You’ll be the death of me.”

If… headquarters didn’t get to him first.

“—what do you mean there was a curse?” Your assistant frets upon receiving your updated report, one that is intended to work as a patch to the one you previously filed. A rare occurrence in your career, for you were known to be meticulous, nothing ever escaped your gaze, not that common in Naoya, but he believed that since you were on the case, this would’ve been easily dealt with!

So… why was it different this time?

“I thought you said there weren’t any!”

“There wasn’t” you respond. “At least… when I checked first.”

“Things like this happen.” Naoya intervenes, doing his best to not lash out completely for he hated how you were being treated right now.

“I—I get it, it happens” he stammers, quick to sense the threatening aura coming from Naoya and composing themselves, sighing. “I guess what surprises me is that it took you six hours to realize that. But also, there’s a lot of things that don’t add up!

First, as soon as the two called the sighting of a higher-grade curse, we began an investigation… only to find out that there weren’t any remnants of cursed energy to match a curse of said level. In fact, there was nothing at all, as you initially said, Y/N!

From there, if you were truly fighting this curse as long as you did, you would’ve died. No one can go on that long without, well, facing repercussions! Yet here you are…

Just—please, be honest with me if you want me to help you. What where you two doing during all that time?!”

Your eyes and Naoya’s quickly dart to one another, bearing a look that told the other this turned out to be far bigger than they expected, certainly out of the norm for the heir who was bragging of their seemingly untouchable status.

But even then, neither worried, because they knew that once their relationship was made public, your assistant would be able to place the pieces together on their own. It’s going to be anything but obvious when it does.

“So?” He insists. “What were you two doing?”

Better keep it a surprise, then. Oh, how Naoya wants to see his face the moment he finds out you've been fucking him all this time, and to believe he really thought he had a chance with you...

“Nothing.” you eventually say, a smile on your face. “Just… catching up.”

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #ask

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thelarriefics · 7 months

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OFFICE FIC REC: Below you will find find that take place in an office, have Harry and Louis as coworkers, or just in general have to do with work.

📖 if it kills me by @nobodymoves (110k)

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for three years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning. The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)

Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive. Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

📖 Secrets, Santa? by @indiaalphawhiskey (19k)

Right, okay, so Harry had confessed his deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets to a stranger who turned out to be his boss. No big deal. This was probably just the beginning of Harry’s own hilariously heartwarming, wildly romantic Hallmark Christmas movie, come to life, right?

📖 Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) by @twopoppies (17k)

Louis has a very hands on approach to training his new secretary. How else can he make sure Harry realizes his full potential?

📖 Through the Warning Signs by @ireallysawanangel (12k)

Harry and Louis have been best friends for years, but when Louis suggests they become friends with benefits, how will Harry handle that while also being in love with Louis?

📖 Make Him Want to Sin by @becomeawendybird (9k)

Harry is a curatorial assistant at the London Museum of Natural History, on the day of the big annual gala he catches a glimpse of someone unexpected.

📖 Blame It On Christmas by @larrysballetslippers (7k)

Life was good until a new coworker showed up. It’s a little insane but not even a little bit funny how much Harry instantly despised the new guy. He’s always late, but always shows up with the most charming smile so nobody can get mad. His desk is a mess and he doesn’t seem to have ever learned the words ‘thanks’ or ‘sorry.’ And as if a bad employee isn’t bad enough, this particular bad employee is none other than the CEO's nephew, Louis fucking Tomlinson. Or, Harry is the six-time winner of the yearly Christmas sweater competition, but it all changes when a new coworker shakes up his whole world.

📖 On That Note by @allwaswell16 (6k)

Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.

📖 i swear i could give you everything by @alwaysxlarrie (5k)

Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 each morning. But he did have to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though. Talk about self sabotage.

📖 Hello Darling by @zanniscaramouche (5k)

As CEO, Mr. Tomlinson is used to spending more nights curled on his office coach than his bed, but this time it isn't an impending merger or new client deal keeping him hibernated on the fortieth floor this Christmas Eve. A city wide blizzard warning, a power outage, and a dismal lack of tea leaves him hours away from what he expects to be one of the more pathetic Christmas mornings of his life. That is, until the new bright eyed intern scares the living crap out of him.

📖 baby you're the boss at home by @loveislarryislove (3k)

Louis sets up a camera in the master bedroom, so she can watch over her wife while she's at work. But it doesn't take long for Harry to notice -- and to decide to have some fun with it, at the expense of Louis' sanity.

📖 Sweeter Than Fiction by @lookslikefairytale (2k)

With that, Louis channels every single Drama lesson he ever took in school, and starts walking towards Curly Angel, as his drunk brain has dubbed him in the past twenty seconds. It sounds at least a little less biblical than His Saviour. And then, in lieu of a great conversation opener, he does the only thing his drunk brain can come up with. He grabs Curly Angel, pulls him close and kisses him. or, the one where Louis has to attend the most boring work party and Harry might be his way out of there.

#masterpost #hljournal #hlcreators #1dsource

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boxheadpaint · 5 months

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the problem with my last post on the subject was listing a bunch of pieces i already knew and not being specific enough to say 'im looking for something of similar feeling but lesser known'.

im specifically looking for unique "analog" or just video youtube horror that i Havent already heard of. something that doesnt rely exclusively on creepy photoshop face and text to speech voice with the same general idea as any other series. if you know something thats quite good and interesting but you dont see as many people talking about thats the recommendation im looking for

morley grove - from the creator of gemini, incredibly strong. plays with older internet, older youtube and geocities type of personal websites. things that dont jump you right out the blue but continuously build dread. things that are hidden even, implied to be something much worse than you can understand and allowing your mind to run wild. very good, but on hold Along with gemini due to the creators computer problems.

1990s lost media: obscure security system - only one video at the current time sadly, as it is a very good video. plays out plainly like a windows movie maker piece, and once again its only showing you a Part of whats happening. theres startling noises, but not without proper buildup or reason. again strange implications that make you actually Think about whats going on. funnily enough, actually had a nightmare based on this one after watching it. Extremely well done

countess pasta - moreso original writing and readings as opposed to visual storytelling. if you were ever into thelittlefears and still yearn for something that captures that same feeling, take a listen to countess pasta's videos. there also seems to be some kind of overarching plot that could tie the stories together, but even listening to them on their own is a treat. her selection of work is impeccable and anxiety-inducing, well thought-out and refreshing in the current climate of creepypasta readings

Minecraft alpha 1.0.16 versions - hard to describe, more mystery than horror but still unnerving. INCREDIBLY beautifully done and written. teases with the idea that things haunting your minecraft world may not be supernatural or truly sinister in nature, yet still a glimpse into a stranger world seemingly lost to time. remembered this one at the last second

if theres any other videos or series you feel arent discussed as widely as some others, something obscure and slash or of great quality, feel free to put it directly in my eyes

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loversofthegrave · 9 months

Text

teenage sammy grappling with his intolerable attachment to his big brother one shot<3

1998, South Carolina

Summer hits full on like a hammer, shrivelling the last spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. John has them situated this time in South Carolina in the middle of a buttfuck nowhere trailer park. Sam huffs out a whoosh wafting a strand of his shaggy, greasy hair and scuffs his knock-off beat up converse into the dry dirt, the path leading up into their new home for the next week or two.

John recites his customary speech, Dean nods, ‘Yes sir’ as Dean always does. He’s John more often than dad these days. John gave Sam a name when he was born then left, like a background actor in a movie, cut from the film roll. The rumble of the impala and he’s gone.

Spider plants hang from pots on the wide trailer porch. Chipped ceramic ornaments of butterflies and lizards were placed outside. Inside, the shabby floral wallpaper and checkered armchair. The tattered cotton curtains blowing gently, and the cross hung on the wall, wonky. It was like a polaroid from the 70s, all orange hues and clashing patterns.

“What a dump,” he said gritting his teeth.

“It’s not so bad,” Dean shrugs “Kinda cozy,”

Dean’s eyes like hawks observing their new home, finding quick exits, salting the windows and doors. Safety first, look out for Sammy, like the good toy solider that he is.

Sam knows Dean can’t help it, the urgency, the attentiveness, to keep safe, guard his little brother. Sam would be lying if he said he wouldn’t want it any other way, he hopes it’s a two-way street.

Truth is, being in each other's pocket is all they’ve ever known. Dean is Sam’s brother as much as he is his only friend, his father, his mother, all rolled into one. Dean's hands being a caress and a fumbling worry of a mother’s. Dean who changed Sam’s diapers, who soothed teething pains with nimble fingers, tender rocking's and forgiving scoldings. It was all him, not a woman with satin blonde hair and porcelain skin nor the man with the grief-stricken furrowed brows and whiskey sighs. No, it was the kid with the goofy grin and the shoulders weighed down heavy with more liability than a kid should ever know, now turned leather jackets and calloused hands, felon fingers, summers caress dotted upon the bridge of a nose. Summer has always been extra generous to him, he thought, kind of face that weighs heavy on a teenage boys heart.

Looking at Dean is like hallucinating like looking through the lenses of kaleidoscope, soft orange and pink hues from the sun dipping into the horizon of the late summer dusk framing his head like an angel but an angel in the flames. An angel that could be Gabriel but an angel that could be Lucifer too, like he would readily delve into the deep, dark hell as he would fly up to the lofty, illuminated places. And Dean would for Sam.

Dean was Sam’s first everything, and it’s no surprise Sam would want that forevermore.

Sam can’t help it, this craving, it’s insatiable, like an itch irritating him under new stretched teenage skin. If he itches and itches, scratches with blunt anxious bitten nails until he draws blood. But the blood he revels in, the curving, cutting and slaughtering himself to fit into the groove of Dean’s heart, he would do anything, and he knows Dean would do the same but not in the ways Sam yearns for. Sam knows, he knows it’s twisted, he knew as soon as he was enrolled in school and how not everyone else feels that way about brothers. But he doesn’t care, not when Dean is the only grace he was given in his world of destruction and ruin, his pure drop in an ocean of chaos. Damn it if the lord doesn’t forgive him, heaven and hell are just words to a hopeless boy like Sam. When his brother looks at him, he decides to wage holy war.

But Dean doesn’t know, not really, he knows Sam loves him but no more, no less, too frightful Sam would scare him fiercely, that he would leave Sam here, loose his grace, and what is Sam without his grace? Just an empty vessel, an angel damned from heaven, forever. Think he’s sick, corrupt, disgusting. Only Sam can be the one to know this about himself, swallow the key if he must. He tries his best to shelter away these parts from Dean, distancing ever so slightly, it just makes the craving worst, he thinks, withdrawal.

So, he lives with Dean, in his shadow. Watches him, envies him, wants to be him, wants to be with him, under him. Watches him waltzing around the kitchen with sultry hips after this week's easy fuck. Probably some white trash bimbo Sam thinks harshly, doesn’t know what it truly means to have him, a boy, a man, like Dean. He goes for anything with legs and a mouth in a 1-mile radius, puts it out to anything, anyone but Sam.

“You stink Dean,” Sam mumbles under his breath

“That’s the smell of champions Sammy” Dean grins, easy and careless, throwing a wink over his shoulder. Sam shoots daggers into his back.

This is their dance, Dad goes on a hunt for a couple of weeks, Dean and Sam are holed up in a shack and they pretend that this is their normal, habit, but it’s not, they we’re and forever born in motion. Dean enrols Sam into the local (another) high school, Dean gets a short-term job working with his hands to hold them over until Dad gets back, this time at the garage. They make small talk with strangers when necessarily and act according to their roles, relocates the suspicious eyes on Sam’s stitched up hand me down t-shirts and Deans violet blooming bruises from training and hunts, keeps social services off their back. But they fit in OK around this truckers town so Sam holds it rigid, this vexation, lewdness, this jealousy brimming. Puberty is fucked, Sam likes to blame it on that.

It’s Friday, the shutters of the trailer are open and wide. Sam’s in makeshift shorts that were once jeans that he cut at the knees one town ago. The radio is static, and The Mama’s & The Papa’s is being carried through the thick-cut air, ‘you've got everything I need, and nobody can please like you, you baby and who believes that my wildest dreams and my craziest schemes will come true?’

Sam’s growth spurt mixed with food stamp fed spindly legs are propped up on the coffee table barefoot, toes wiggling, as he shovels spoonfuls of store brand cornflake knock offs in his mouth. Dean comes in wafting of oil and summer sweat after being outside tinkering with the ford pick-up truck Dad sorted out with a local hunter before he briskly left. He slaps the bottom of Sam’s foot with his greasy rag. Sam grunts.

"Up and at 'em or you're gonna be late" Dean lectures, parenting.

Sam rucks on an old 1975 Black Sabbath tour shirt that used to be Dean's that used to be Dads, now faded grey and bobbling. Pokes his feet into socks with his right toe sticking out of the hole, laces up his shoes and climbs into the passenger seat of the pick-up. Dean drops Sam off at the Pine Springs High and told him he'd pick him up, told him to ‘give ‘em hell’.

Pine Springs High was full of scraggy kids, Beavis and Butt-head boys, girls busty and leggy. Sam befriends one friend, a skinny freckled boy with thick rimmed glasses. His name is Davey. They were sat next to each other in science, dissecting a frog. Sam figures cutting open this frog is harder than the ghouls they slaughter. What did this frog ever do to anyone? Davey was informing Sam on the anatomy, pointed out the chambers of the heart, the ventricle. He seemed interested in trying to impress Sam with how smart he was. "You know a lot," stated Sam.

He smiled. He was a boy who wanted to be seen. Sam suspects with certainty he’s not in these careless halls of teenagers reeking of hormones and wariness of social status.

High school is not as gentle with kids like Sam and Davey. But Sam can tackle it, give as good as he gets. That’s what he’s been trained to do, what their dad trained him to do, those sparring sessions with Dean every other day doesn’t go to waste, as much as Sam likes to grumble and whine. The decomposition ghost of a girl in a tatty white dress with fine needlepoint lace trimmings from the 1820’s has more oomph in her thump than any of these teenagers.

Even in a Gas-mart town like this one full of greasy kids with dirty fingernails Sam still is stared at by clusters of kids. Maybe it’s the adequate collection of bruising on his body from said sparring and Victorian decomposition, or maybe it’s the fact he’s an outsider (he’s always the outsider) but Sam doesn’t mind. Cleanliness and godliness are deceptive, he’d rather wear his wounds, his ugliness. No fooling, he was torn and stitched.

Dean picks Sam up, sees the mop of brown hair and downcast face amongst the sea of chattering high-spirited kids. It reminds Dean of when he encouraged him to go to a classmate's birthday party in kindergarten, timid little Sammy protested but Dean encouraged his little brother to go, nervy on all he was missing out growing up. When Dean went to pick him up at McDonald's he spotted him, dejected, eyes glazed over. Other children around him screaming and sliding into pits filled with coloured balls. It splintered Dean to his core.

When Sam is in arm reach Dean tousles Sam's hair, and he gets a whack of the hand and a gruff in response.

“How’d it go Sammy?” Dean asks, hefting himself up into the driver's seat.

“Fine.” Sam replies, quick, sharp. “And it’s Sam,” he stresses.

Dean doesn’t know what it is these days but there’s a slight ache, a gnawing. Sam used to look at Dean like he hung the stars just for him. That Dean was God’s own reflection but now there’s a distance, an interspace and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it. At first, he thought maybe it’s teenage hormones or pheromones or whatever the fuck, but Dean never remembers being that sulky as a teenager. Maybe he never got the chance. When he tries to touch Sam, he flinches, scurries away like he just spooked a rodent. Used to revel in it, they practically grew up in each other's arms. Was still sharing a bed in the motels until two years ago.

Dean would never admit it out loud to him, but he misses Sam. Misses that constant comfort of touch and affection.

They stop off at a local diner on their way back to the trailer park, Sam questions if they have enough money for the month to eat out, Dean tells him not to worry. All wooden panels, red and white checkered table clothes, a sign that reads, ‘lumber jack pancake special for $5.95!’ Dean eyes it up, breakfast at dinnertime, their lives never have rhythm or reason anyways. They slide into a booth of worn leather, Sam on one side, Dean on the other.

Sam orders a panini with ham and cheese and fries, Dean the lumber jack pancakes. When they arrive by a shy petite waitress with inky dark eyes and blushing blotted cheeks, Dean swipes a fry off Sam’s plate just to receive another swat. Any touch is better than no touch, bad attention better than none.

Sam doesn’t miss the way the waitresses' eyes linger on Dean’s profile. If he shoots a frosty glare her way Dean doesn’t have to know.

The sun with no forgiveness, a parched sky, the hillsides with purple wilting drifts of milkweed, dotting the cracks of the gas-station and garage. It was Saturday, Sam was at the garage while Dean worked. Tucked in a corner sheltered from the suns ruthless beat with his library copy of Catcher In The Rye he couldn’t return when John dragged them out of the motel inn at dawn a town back. Sam said he felt guilty, Dean told him to stop being such a law-abiding citizen.

He gazed at Dean, could smell his sweat, sharp and strong, a man, Sam’s brain applied helpfully. He was wearing overalls, wiping workman sweat from his forehead. Sam wanted to lick him, taste the salt and summer kissed skin. He knows he’s disgusting. At this rate Sam thinks he should stab his eyes out, so he can’t look. Burn his skin off, so he can’t touch.

The next Sunday, Sam sleeps in late. He finds Dean slouched on the floral couch, stretched out like a housecat watching TV. It’s always a rarity to see him in a relaxed stance, undisturbed, a recess to the constant chaos of their lives. It settles something steady and peaceful within Sam with just a hint of sadness. He mumbles a drowsy good morning and trudges to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He pisses in the toilet, sluggish, holds himself up steady with a hand against the tiles. The splash of his piss hitting the water too loud in the quiet murmur of their trailer.

Washing his hands, he moseys around in the medicine cabinet above the sink. Inside, aimless trinkets left behind by previous owners. Tweezers with a single gemstone on them, antibiotic ointment, outdated eyedrops.

Sam finds a small capsule behind an empty bottle of aspirin. He reaches for it, revealing a lipstick, the cheap kind you pick-up at Walmart for $5.

He holds it in his hand, stares. Turns it in his palm, opens the lid with a subtle click and rotates the base.

The lipstick itself is a cherry red, obscene kind of red. The type he sees on hookers lingering around the corners at motels when he slips out at dusk to buy Dr Peppers from the vending machine with the quarters Dean made him pocket.

The garish fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, whirring like insects as he watches them showcasing their chests and unveiled legs. They always look cold, Sam thinks.

Sam looks up and scans his face in the mirror, holds the lipstick close to his nose, sniffs it. It smells like wax and chemicals, half suspected it to smell like strawberries and an angel's kiss or something, screws his nose up.

Without much reflection he smears the cherry red lipstick onto his lips, it's messy and askew not as neat as he sees on the girls in Dean's skin mags. He sets down the lipstick onto the sink and looks at himself, really looks.

The glaring red on such a boyish face like Sam's feels lewd and indecent. He feels slightly silly, embarrassed, his cheeks stain a weak scarlet. He wonders what others would think of him like this, Dean, his dad.

God, dad would probably be appalled, call him a sissy, punish him by making him do triple the training. Make him run for miles under the blazing sun.

But Dean, what would Dean think of his little brother like this? If Sam just waltzed right out of the bathroom now and stood dead in the line of Dean's vision. Would he stammer? Get all flustered and struck-dumb? Would he look at Sam and think of him as those girls he promenades to the impala, the motel room when he thinks Sam's asleep and not hanging onto every grunt and sigh coming from Dean's throat. Stores them in the hollow of his heart, imprinted on it just as sacred as the Holy Bible is to a priest.

Would he want to tenderly caress the shape of his mouth, smear the lipstick, make Sam looked wrecked? He inspects the long plains of his body, like scorched landscape, bronzed from June’s boldness.

Sam’s been trying to get used to it, his recasting body. Finally losing his baby fat, almost catching up to Dean in height much to Dean’s dismay. Just he doesn’t carry the newly stretched limbs well, feels like a puppet and someone else is yanking the strings. He hasn’t thought about it much, how others perceive him, how Dean perceives him.

Sure, Sam’s had his first kiss and fumbled under a girl's shirt in Indiana last year, let him touch her boobs. She wore lots of eyeliner, wore black bulky boots and liked Alice In Chains. Sam creamed his pants as soon as he got a soft plump handful, she didn’t seem to mind so he tried not to feel too embarrassed. He couldn’t wait to tell Dean (lied to a reasonable measure) for him to be proud of him. Dean let Sam have his first beer after he told him, “Since you’re a man now,” Dean announced, “Don’t tell Dad,” He winked. Sam never tells John their secrets.

But other than that, he’s a bit clueless, still bashful when girls look his way. Isn’t fabricated like Dean, heavied bottom lip into effortless grin that make’s girls drop and fractures their porcelain hearts, little unconsciously brutal but never intentional to be so. Sam would let Dean smash him into smithereens, shards of broken ceramic all over the tiles, if he’d wanted.

He thinks about the woman who supposedly left the lipstick here, he decides it’s an older woman, barefoot in a simple dress in the tail end of summer, her feet and the palms of her hands showed pale pink against her sunburnt skin, looked ornamental. He decided she had many lovers, wore it for them, wonders if Dean would be one. Wonders what she would think finding out a gawky teenage boy was trying on her bygone lipstick.

Wonders what it would be like to wear this for Dean, his lover.

Dean compulsive, gluttonous with the want of Sam, gushing his hands over the sides of his body, the pull of his rutting teenage hips. The neediness he sometimes gets in that platonic brotherly way bordering on hysteria whenever Sam’s hurt. All his senses submerged entirely by Dean Dean Dean, his touch, his smell, his hot breath.

Sam shoves a frantic hand down his pyjama pants and briefs, wrenches his dick with crazed tugs. Comes that exact same time there’s rough banging on the door, Dean shouting, “Come on Sam, you’ve been in there forever!” rattling the door with his presence.

Sam leaps, grimacing at the mess he made in his pants, swiping a towel and cleaning himself up in rapid motions. Rubs off the lipstick with the back of his hand, scouring his mouth.

“You jerking off in their little brother?” Dean calls out, muffled slightly through the thick wood of the bathroom door, amusement laced in his tone.

When Sam is sure he’s cleansed himself of any misdemeanours and removed all crucial evidence he swings the door open and shoulders past Dean muttering, “No Dean, I wasn’t jerking off.” How much of that Dean believes is out of his control. He pockets the lipstick.

#I wrote a wincest thing #teenchesters #should i write more #i did write a whole story to this like 13k words but I didnt like it much in the end but #here is a snippet #sammy pov figuring his feelings for his brother out #wincest #wincest one shot #weecest #weecest one shot #wincest fanfic #supernatural #spn #sam/dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #pre series sam/dean

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blackdragoness · 2 years

Text

PAC: WHAT MAKES YOU STAND OUT?

1) Pile 1 - 10 of Pentacles

2) Pile 2- Page of Wands

3) Pile 3- 5 of Pentacles

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Pile 1 - 10 of Pentacles

💍WIFEY💍

What makes you standout:

- wifey material

- stable

- patient

- kind

- sustainable

- efficient

- workaholics

- might come from a great family or upbringing

- endurance

- "you better shape up, cuz I need a man but my heart is set on you" sandy from grease

- temptation

-personable

-charismatic

-public speaking

-might be great with animals

-high standards and high morals

Tarot Cards:

You are the TOTAL PACKAGE. Hot Mami Tamale 🔥This is why you are wifey material. You are the calm of any storm. You are a great problem solver. I'm channelling alot of masculine energy. A lot of men think about you. You may be surrounded by men a lot either in a work environment or friend environment, etc. Men know they can rely on you to complete tasks that may be too heavy for other women to carry. You may have many suitors. Early on you may doubt your self worth because many of your suitors may not take you seriously at first but then fall madly in love as time goes on. You may be extremely attractive whether you care to admit it or not. This is why men don't take you seriously at first. They think you are nothing but a trophy and a good time. That is until they open up Pandora's box and find out all there is to know about such a beautiful alien creature that you are lol. Men realize you are not one to play with because you aren't afraid to walk away from anything that doesn't serve you. You may be "the one that got away" for a lot of people. This is not a love reading but I am channelling alot of romantic feelings from the opposite sex (not gender specific). You may be perceived as someone who never struggles in romance as you have lots of romantic offers. You always seem to glow up and level up every time you close a chapter in your life. A lot of people from your past miss you and wish to reconnect. What makes you standout is how people react to you. People notice the various reactions you evoke in those you interact with. Even those who are widely known for being the Eeyore of the crew will crack a smile or laugh during an interaction with you. You make everything seem effortless. I'm hearing legacy. Those who chose this pile are destined to leave behind a legacy. It could be positive or negative, but it's your choice to write your own story. Whatever it be, it will be what your bloodline is known for for generations to come but also be what you guys are skilled at. People don't realize what you meant to them until you walked away but things seemed to be effortless for you once you walked away and chose yourself. You stand out for your self love and your love for others. You want everyone around you to succeed and thrive. Everyone feels more inspired and motivated when you are around. You are many peoples muse. Keep shining bright like a diamond hunty.

Channelled Movie: Land Before Time

Channelled Song: You're The One That I Want - Olivia Newton John & John Travolta

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Pile 2: Page of Wands

⭐SUPERSTAR⭐

What makes you standout:

- limitless potential

-innovative

-breathe of fresh air

-unorthodox

-thinks outside the box

-talkative and communicative but in a way that grabs your attention for a long period of time

-leadership qualities

-initiative

-strong aries vibes

-lone wolf

-menace to society

-catalyst for change

Tarot cards:

If you chose this group, the thing that makes you stand out is that you have an undercover celebrity vibe about you. What makes you stand out is that you do not see just now truly magical you are to other people. Whimsical. You seem like a fairy when people first meet you and they wonder why you settle for the life you choose. You might live a very simple mundane and minimalistic lifestyle. Nothing wrong with that but you stand out to people because they think you should be living more lavishly. It's like if someone who looked like Jennifer Lopez decided to settle for a basic 9-5 career while rocking Shein's and being okay with that. Granted, she would still slay but do you see why you stand out? You look like something that waltzed right out of a Disney movie. "if there was anyone who would make it big from this small town, it would be that girl!" A lot of people see you as a celebrity in the making. Like you could be a model, an actress, a super star! But you are at peace with working a basic job making minimum wage. You make people want to invest in you. However, there's Something about a lack of motivation and being stuck in between two worlds. Indecisive energy. This may keep you awake at night. Wondering about your stability and your future. You are a rollercoaster! When people meet you, they aren't prepared for the rollercoaster of emotions you take them through. You are hard to comprehend and understand. Some of the things you do may at face value seem completely disrespectful and inhumane. But as time goes on and people pick apart the incident, they come to understand the innocence of your actions. As much as people hate it, they can't resist it. People can become very addicted to you and lose sleep over you. People can develop very jealous feelings towards you wondering if you are entertaining others or if their partners are secretly entertaining you. Lots and lots of birds in your life. Lots of talk. Lots of chita-chatta. You stand out because you are very humble. You are okay with the simple and mundane things in life. A lot of people think you could be famous or widely known for the ideas you come up with but you don't seem to care for the recognition. This is why you stand out. You are very talented and skilled in many things yet you do nothing with it. You are someone who shines bright without even trying. you may not like the spotlight or being the center of attention but when you do open up and share parts of your world with others, they feel so warm and gooey like warm honey lol. People don't understand why you aren't utilizing your talents. But it's only because they are addicted to your honey! They wish they could have it 24/7 but they disregard the fact that you are a human being as well. You may like a lot of time alone. Inner peace. Boundaries. You see the world differently. You choose to develop and master your talents in private and use them only when needed. Fame is not what you are after. It's skill. But not many people understand that or know. You may not even know that yourself. That is why you do not care to show off your talents.

Channelled Movie: Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile

Channelled Song: Anti-hero: Taylor Swift

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Pile 3: 5 of Pentacles

🏍️RIDE OR DIE ALPHA🏍️

-charitable

-selfless , will take the shirt off your back to help someone in need

-Icy Queen vibes - you colddddddd AF bitch 🤣 I'd like to see a mf TRY!

-cut off game strong

-spiritual to the point where people think you are a little kookoo in the noggin

-out of touch, out of reach, out of sight

-known for overcoming deep struggles and being victorious

-Soldier energy

-experienced

-teacher, mentor energy

-moves in silence

-unexpected

-enigma

Tarot cards:

You stand out because of your resiliency and your indestructibility. Whoever chose this pile, you have been through the war field many times in your life. Wounded. Stranded. Deserted. Left out. Shamed. Abused. Manipulated. Betrayal. So much hate and malice thrown your way and still you rose. Gahhhh dayum Pile 3, y'all some muthafuckin' souljah's, lets just say that! Your world could have been flipped upside down And tossed around and yet you still rose from the destruction and created opportunities for yourself. Dayuuuummmmmm. This energy is huge and it's intense. Who tf are you? When people think of you they are AMAZED at your inner strength especially after they find out your history and all the battles you've fought. You are valiant. Chivalrous. Immovable. Courageous. Unstoppable. Warrior spirit. Phoenix rising. People may have seen you come out victorious from a very tumultuous time. It's shocking and astonishing. You see the silver lining in everything so even the sourest of life experiences, you are able to see the sweetness of it all. Real life influencer vibes. "N*gga, F*ck your twitter, bitches follow me in real life" -J Cole. In a league of your own. In your own world. Superhero vibes. Super Villain vibes. GOAT. Go getter. Midas touch. Alpha dawg. Regina George/Sharpay Evans vibes. Pristine. Prim & proper. Upperclass vibes. The popular girl in school. Girl next door vibes. Confidence on 30000x. Beyonce of your own world. Fierce. Magnetic. One in a million. Unique. Straight to the point. Cut-throat. No bullshit.

Channelled Movie: The Blind Side

Channelled Song: Scars to Your Beautiful - Alessia Cara

#pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarot community #intuitive readings #astro community #astrology #astro notes #art #zodiac

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depravitycentral · 1 year

Text

Friday Nights

Yandere! Yuu Nishinoya x fem! reader

Synopsis: A routine movie night with your best friend turns into a bit more than you bargained for – action movies, popcorn, drugged soda, and a man absolutely desperate for you, no matter how underhanded his methods may be.

Warnings: non-con, non-consensual drugging, choking, bruising, non-consensual groping, delusional Yuu, lowkey dragging action movies sorry, mentions of stalking, mentions of past non-con (by Yuu), somnophilia, implied somnophilia, obviously timeskip!Yuu who decided to get educated and go to college, mentions of reader’s pubic hair, fem reader

WC: 5.2K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

“So what movie do y’wanna watch?” Yuu asks, his voice high pitched with excitement as his brown eyes scan through the rows of movie titles. The TV perched on the wall is queued up with Netflix, the various titles jumping out and seeming to fly by as his fingers repeatedly press down onto the ‘next’ button, moving too quickly to even get a glimpse at the synopses.

You roll your eyes but giggle lightly, the behavior typical from him.

He’d always been a bit scatterbrained, impatient and always eager to go out and do something, for excitement and stimulation in every possible way. He was a busy body, a trait you admired about him, albeit something that occasionally had you ripping at your hair when he just wouldn’t stay still.

And yet, it was a reason why you loved him– one of your closest friends, a joy of a man that you felt lucky to have known since high school. He may have been in a different class, but through coinciding clubs and college seminars, a friendship had bloomed quickly and passionately, the both of you seeing a missing piece in one another.

“I don’t care, just please not Die Hard again. It’d be what, the twentieth time in the last two months?” You teased, sending him a glare as he pouted, lips puffing out as crossed his arms.

“Hmpf, you’re just jealous that I like actually interesting movies, not the shit you watch.”

Suddenly the popcorn bowl – fresh and dripping in butter and salt – that you’d just finished making was snatched away from his outstretched hand, an indignant huff spilling from your lips.

He spluttered, eyes blowing wide as he stared at you.

“Wha – you can’t do that!” He exclaimed, facing you with an incredulous expression.

You closed your eyes, puffing your chest and tilting your chin up. “Mmm, I made it, so I get to choose what I do with it.”

Yuu threw his hands up, shaking his head and asking in a defeated tone, “Okay okay, your liege, what must I do to earn some of your world class popcorn?”

Opening your eyes, your index finger tapped against your chin, fake contemplating. “Hmmm…”

“C’mon, I’m hungry!” He whined, shoulders drooping as he pouted.

You snorted, before sighing heavily. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to apologize, and thank me for being so generous and letting you off so easily.”

He scoffed, eyes rolling to the sky as he flopped back against the cushions of his couch. “Sure, sure princess, I’m so sorry for offending you, and thanks for being such a softie.”

You smirk and glance over at him, holding out the popcorn bowl and watching as his eyes lit up, a hand immediately reaching out to grab as big a handful as possible.

“You’re a pig, you know that?”

He picked up a stray piece that had fallen onto his gray t-shirt, flinging it over at you and smiling through a mouthful of popcorn at your offended glare.

You laughed despite yourself, the man beside you too easy to forgive for his own good. Choosing to ignore the way he snickered at your failed attempt at seeming irritated, you instead focused your gaze onto the television, just to watch him pass through movie after movie under the action section.

Eventually, he landed on a rather non-descript action thriller that looked to have the same plot as the other twenty action movies he’d had you watch the last few movie nights. You were sure you’d be able to recite the lines word for word despite never having watched this particular film.

He glanced over at you, seeking your approval on the movie. You nodded, giving him a small smile despite your secret displeasure at his movie choice. Well, it’s not like I ever manage to stay up to watch the full thing, anyways.

The lights were dimmed, the crunching of popcorn accompanied by the opening soundtrack of the film. Your gaze focused on the screen, explosions and guns filling your sight as the plot droned on, the lead going through a heart wrenching loss of a family member, all typical so far.

Yuu seemed fully immersed in the movie, his profile showing the concentration in those brown eyes, his lashes barely fluttering as the movie continued. Popcorn was shoveled into his mouth, little gasps and expressions in response to the movie passing over his face frequently.

You smiled softly, the sight of him enjoying himself making you unspeakably happy. It was no secret that you’d developed feelings for your friend, but the years’ worth of fondness that had slowly seeped into your mind wasn’t worth endangering the tight friendship you shared, and so you stayed quiet. Yuu was a friend, nothing more and nothing less.

But he looks so pretty like this…

You sighed, adjusting yourself and taking a sip of the soda he’d brought over for you. It was a new brand this time, though it was still your favorite flavor, something he kept on hand in bottled form for nights exactly like this. The lid was always unscrewed, a few sips having been taken by him beforehand (“what? It’s not like we don’t share everything else, besides you’ve got decent taste! I just want to try it every time, you know?”), and as much as it made you feel like a creep and embarrass you, some small part of you enjoyed the fact that his lips had already touched the rim.

You shivered, snuggling deeper into the blankets you’d buried yourself in. You were acutely aware of his presence on the other side of the admittedly small couch, but as the movie continued on, slowly your eyes drifted closed, sleep overtaking you.

“Damn, wasn’t that such a good movie? I totally didn’t see the ending coming –“ He started, a wide grin on his face as he turned to face you, honey eyes appraising your sleeping form.

The ending credits of the movie were rolling, the music slowly fading into the background as he stared, your peaceful, unconscious form looking absolutely beautiful to him. He’d known he was in love with you for a while now – since your first year in college, really, after you’d approached him during a shared class and practically begged him to study with you. He knew you were only asking platonically, but you were so sweet and funny, your laugh was addictive, your eyes so pretty, your body looking so good in your tighter shirt…

Plus, you asked him to study – a poor choice, really, but that must’ve meant you’d noticed him and though you were smart! (You were sorely disappointed when he’d looked at you in confusion when you’d mentioned helium during your chemistry studying, but he was endearing so you let it slide.)

It was a bit of a hopeless spiral into his feelings, if he was being honest, and while he didn’t necessarily enjoy being stuck in a perpetual friend-zone with you, he was satisfied. He was just happy that he was able to spend time with you, to see you and speak with you, to have consistent movie nights like tonight where things became more bearable.

More bearable, if only because he got to do the things he’d spend all week daydreaming about, thoughts of you racing through his mind late at night when the knowledge that you were only a few hundred feet away from him was starting to get into his head. Movie nights were a near weekly occurrence, marked by Friday nights spent in his apartment, the old worn couch getting its fair share of use in many, many ways.

Yuu gulped, jaw going slack as he merely stared, the minutes ticking by slowly as his eyes raked over the curve of your nose, your brows and lashes, the soft parting of your lips. You were truly gorgeous, his ideal woman in every possible way, and as he slowly stood up, calling out your name a few times to make sure the drugs he’d spiked into your soda were effective, excitement began building up in his chest.

Sure, it didn’t feel great to be doing this, to have grown a habit out of the way he slowly uncovered your form, the blankets being pushed to the side as his breath grew ragged, his sweatpants slowly beginning to feel too tight, but it was too late now to stop, the habit too ingrained into his mind to ever seriously quit.

And as he pulled off his shirt and slowly wrapped your unconscious body into his arms, every ounce of guilt slowly drifted from his mind, the feeling of your form against his bare one making his head spin in the most wonderful of ways.

Moving you to the bed was easy – despite your consistent complaints of being too heavy, your weight posed no problem to the young man as he carefully set you down on his bed, your head lolling back against the pillows as he analyzed your expression. You were still out, thanks to the copious (but not dangerous) amounts of sleeping agent he’d administered into the fizzy drink before you’d arrived, his fingers nearly trembling with excitement as he’d handed over the plastic bottle to you. You were always so gullible, a trait he found simultaneously endearing and worrying, though it wasn’t as if he had any real nefarious intentions – better him drugging you than some random creep, right?

At least he normally made you come.

Yuu shivered, exhaling slowly as he tugged his pants off, his lack of underwear allowing his already mostly hard cock to spring free, the leaking tip flushed a dark red as he moved to situate himself between your legs, his hands lightly dusting over your legs as he debated what to remove first.

Undressing you was always a process – a slow, methodical one, arguably one of his favorite parts about the whole ordeal. Depending on his mood, he’d start at different spots – if he was feeling more handsy, aching to grab onto you and never let go, your top and bra were first to go, followed by a solid twenty minutes of his hands carefully groping and squeezing at your breasts, pinching and playing with your nipples until they were puffy and sore looking, perfect to latch onto and suckle at while he basked in your scent. Other times, it was easier to simply begin where the real magic happened – if his cock was positively aching, desperate to be touched and buried inside of you, it was hard to hold back. Your shorts and panties would disappear, your legs spread and his tongue eager to work at your folds, getting you prepped for what he always swore would be a more gentle fucking, a situation in which he’d make love to you rather than hump into you like some wild animal.

The promise had yet to be fulfilled, but with opportunities arriving every week, he was confident he’d manage to achieve his goals in the near future, right after the ever-present initial shock and ecstasy that being inside of you brought him.

He shivered, reaching up to peel off the hem of your sweatshirt, your soft skin exposed as he carefully shifted you around. He was cautious to not bend your elbows in an uncomfortable or jostle you around too much, though he knew you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, much less from something as light as a few tugs. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of your bra – a simple t-shirt bra fit with a neutral shade, nothing he’d ever see on the cover of a magazine or in porn, but something arousing and enticing all the same, if his cock’s throbbing and pulsing had any say.

As soon as his nimble fingers had unclipped the garment and tossed it to the side, immediately he was licking his lips, reaching up to run his fingers up your stomach and towards your chest, taking a breast in each hand and firmly squeezing.

“Ah, Yuu, I love it when you touch me…” He whispered, voice rising in pitch to sound similar to yours, the fantasy of hearing you encouraging his sexual exploits with you sending yet another wave of arousal down to his groin. It had been strange, the first few times he’d tried to talk to himself and pretend to be you, embarrassing to the point where he’d struggled to meet your gaze for a few days later (though he’d laughed it off as some joke about how he’d just been fulfilling a dare about ignoring you). But as time passed and he’d gotten more used to it, he found himself suddenly unable to get off without imagining your responses. He found himself depending on imagining and imitating what your moans and whimpers of his name would sound like, the noises you’d make as he fucks you on his fingers or stuffs that pretty mouth full of his cock.

“I love it too baby, you’re so fucking soft.” He groaned, hands squeezing a bit harder as he groped and kneaded at your breasts, pinching the pebbled flesh between his thumb and pointer finger as he lightly rutted against your thigh, the friction making him hiss and dip his head, nose coming to rest right over your clothed cunt.

He inhaled deeply, the musky scent driving him wild with lust as his hips bucked extra hard, the sensation making him desperate for more more more, to see and feel your body clenching and creaming around him.

After a final, harsher squeeze against your breasts, his hands wandered down your sides to rest at your hips, untying the drawstring to your shorts and tugging them down along with your panties. The recent development of you choosing quite possibly the shortest shorts he’d ever seen in his life to wear to your weekly hang outs was arguably one of the best things to happen to him, something he’d be eternally grateful for for years to come, a memory he’d look back on with flushed cheeks, a flustered smile and an aching cock.

The sight of your pubic hair and bare thighs had him groaning, his eyes fluttering shut as anticipation roared through him, the familiar image making the phantom taste of your slick against his tongue stronger than he’d thought possible. Carefully grabbing your knees, he spread your legs further apart to expose more of your cute little cunt, before throwing your legs over his shoulders to allow more dexterity for what he was planning next.

Now eyelevel with your cunt, Yuu shut his eyes and inhaled deeply once more, the smell stronger now, richer and more prominent and oh so fucking delicious, drool slipping down his chin as he shuffled closer, quite literally burying his face into the soft mound between your legs. He shivered, his entire body convulsing as he slowly gyrated his head, spreading the minimal slick and discharge along the bridge and tip of his nose, fully immersing himself in as much of you as possible. You were gorgeous, perfect and delectable, and as he lightly pulled back to lick his lips, Yuu groaned.

“Please, no teasing Yuu, y’know I need you, I want you so bad.” He whined out, his hands finding solace at your thighs, finger tips digging into the plush fat to hold your unresponsive body still. Fantasies of the way you’d writhe and shake under him flooded his mind, the idea of you being so overcome with desire and impatience that you’d literally beg him to touch you, to taste you giving him a blood rush.

“So impatient baby, so greedy…” His voice was muffled against the space of your inner thighs as he peppered kisses against the sensitive skin (though careful to never leave any hickeys or bruises, no matter how desperately the temptation ate away at him). “Always wanting so much, you’re so lucky ‘m so generous, all for my sweet girl.”

And with that, he dove in, licking a long strip up from your quivering hole to your clit, tongue circling around the little bud in earnest as he groaned, the sound sending vibrations against your body as you lightly moaned in your sleep. Lips attached to the bundle of nerves, cupping around the area as he sucked and licked, managing to work your body exactly how he’d learned after months of having you all to himself for hours at a hand, all with the sole goal of getting you ruined and hazy with sleep-ridden pleasure.

Rationally, he knew that he didn’t really need to get you off before fucking you, especially with you being unaware either way, but the fantasies built up in his mind were more catered towards you genuinely enjoying the experience, moaning his name and grasping at his hair as he worked you towards an orgasm, getting you to the brink before pushing you over, making sure you were ready to take the oftentimes animalistic pace of his hips.

Lewd sucking and slurping noises reverberated through the room, the movie having ended a while ago. He grunted against you, fingers digging into your thighs before moving one hand to gently prod at your entrance, his tongue continuing to work away at your clit. Carefully, he pushed a finger inside, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him driving his hips to hump forward. His comforter created a delicious mix of pleasurable pain against the sensitive skin of his cock.

You whimpered lightly in your sleep, head lolling to the side, and for a moment Yuu froze, terror that you’d wake up slapping him harshly in the face. He stayed still for a few seconds, staring up at you with wide silver eyes and a ring of creamy, off white slick around his mouth and across his nose, before gulping and returning back to position. He needed to make you come, the urge too strong to ignore, and with a new vigor Yuu was curling and scissoring his fingers, rubbing up against the spots he knew had you jerking and twitching in your sleep.

And, five minute later, he wasn’t disappointed in the least – your hips violently jerked upwards, a small gasp tumbling from your pretty lips as you orgasmed, your body shaking underneath the firm grip of his hand as he worked you through your high. His tongue never stopped moving, his fingers slowing their rhythm but never stopping, the entire experience of feeling your walls flutter and clench and seeing your chest rapidly rise and fall making him all too eager to pull back, but not before placing a quick kiss to your clit that had you twitching.

Tongue flicking out to lick up any residual slick, he smiled down at your form, leaning over you on his knees to cradle your cheek with a cum-stained hand, whispering down at your unconscious form, “You’re so pretty, look so beautiful when you come for me, baby.”

“Anything for you Yuu, wanna make you feel good too.” He mumbled, fingers coming down to toy with your nipples again, idly flicking the sensitive flesh as he briefly lost himself in the imaginary conversation.

“Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that angel?”

“Wanna taste you, please?”

“Shh, tonight is about you princess, and you wanna suck my cock?”

“Yuu! Don’t say it so lewdly…”

“You’re not saying no, baby, that must mean you want my cum down that pretty throat of yours, huh?”

He moved to trace the shape of your lips with a callused thumb, his breath hitching in his throat when your lips parted, his thumb sliding inside to rest idly against your tongue. A strangled groan tumbled from his throat, his cock rutting against your newly slick pussy, the feeling making his eyes tightly squeeze shut.

“You make it sound so dirty, just like it when you’re in my mouth okay? It’s not weird!”

He laughed, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and instead placing it in his own, sucking your spit off the appendage. “I know baby, I know. But right now, I wanna fuck you, wanna feel that tight little cunny squeezing me, ‘kay? And you know how much I love the little noises you make when you’re creaming on my cock.”

And with that, his hand traveled down to wrap around the base of his shaft, giving himself a few pumps that earned a soft hiss from his lips. His other hand moved to press against the mattress, supporting his weight as he nudged his tip against your slick folds, biting his lip as he languidly brought the tip up and down, collecting your cream, feeling the way it mixed with his precum as he slowly shuffled forward.

Your legs were spread out at an odd angle, surely hurting your hips, but as he slowly, oh so fucking slowly pushed inside, Yuu couldn’t find it in himself to care – how could he, when your walls were sucking him in, wet and warm and fuck, how could you be so tight even after he’d prepped you?

“Oh fuck, hnghh-“ He groaned, head lolling forward to bury itself in between the junction of your shoulder and neck, the overwhelming sensation of your pussy welcoming him in making his head swim. His breath came in pants, his muscles twitching as he tried to give your unconscious body a few moments to adjust, knowing that despite his work to get you loosened up and ready, it would still take a bit to get used to him.

“God, do you even know how fucking goo – shit, good you feel baby?” He stuttered out, voice strained as he slowly pulled out, before pushing back in, keeping the pace slow and steady, as much for you as for him.

The squelching noises of his cock stirring up your insides was euphoric to him, the sound of him fucking you making him dizzy, only furthering the sensations racing up his spine. The pleasure, even from being inside you for a grand total of forty five seconds, was mind-numbing, every part of him focusing on going deeper, harder, faster, giving you more more more –

“Oh Yuu, oh – ngh, oh please, you’re so big!” He squeaked out, imagining the way your nails would scratch down his back, his hips pistoning into you, angling up to hit that spongey, magical spot inside of you that would have your back arching and your voice turning into a near scream.

“Oh god, fuckin’ - shit baby, wanna feel you come on my cock again please – “ He gasped, eyes squeezing shut as you gave a particularly hard clench around him, his balls twitching in anticipation. “Fuck, I love you, oh fuck I love you so much, I love you I love you I –“

“A-ah, what –“ A small mumble had Yuu freezing, silver eyes blowing wide as his hips stood at a stand still. He audibly gasped as his gaze darted down to your face, seeing your bleary eyes staring up at him, dizzy with sleep and confusion as you slowly took in your situation – Yuu above you, his face beet red with sweat lining his temples, the dull throb between your legs, the strange sensation of something stretching you out, pushing at your walls.

The situation was slow to make sense to you, but as soon as he shifted slightly and the resulting sensation of something lodging itself deeper into you registered, your eyes were suddenly widening, fear and panic gripping your heart as you realized exactly what your former friend was doing, why the cold air of his room had felt so strange against your bare skin.

“Oh my god – Nishinoya what the fuck – “ You started, hands coming up to push him away as you squirmed, but the way he suddenly plopped down onto you, pinning your legs and arms to your side had you halting any movements, the hand covering your mouth only making you panic harder.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to flail, thrashing underneath him only to find that he was much, much stronger than you remembered him being – not a single movement panned out, your limbs essentially useless as Yuu panicked above you, completely unsure of what to do next.

What had happened? He’d been using those sleeping pills for months – not once had you ever woken up, regained any semblance of consciousness, anything at all! You’d been dead asleep for hours afterwards; plenty of time for him to get off and clean you up, to get rid of any trace of his activities, even as painful as scooping out the cum from inside of you had been.

The sudden memory of the new brand of soda he’d bought on a whim surfaced, making his eyes narrow. Maybe there’d been some reaction with the drug?

“I – oh fuck!” He started, eyes darting between yours, watching tears well up in them as you tried to bite at his hand, anything to get him away.

Sure you’d had a crush on him, but what was he doing? You’d been asleep, you were sure of it – and here he was, fucking you, having presumably undressed you and done god knows what else. You felt sick, the sinking feeling in your gut making bile rise up the back of your throat.

“I – I can explain!” He stuttered, mind racing as he tried to think of a solution to this, now that you were obviously terrified and likely hating him, thinking of him as some monster, a pervert, a criminal…

A muffled scream slipped through your lips, one that had him cringing, his hand pressing harder against you in an effort to drown out the noise as much as possible. “Shh! I swear, this isn’t as bad as it looks – I, god, how do I explain this?”

His voice was miserable, defeated and still ragged from the fucking, but at the slight shift of his hips, your body betrayed you. A small whimper, muffled behind his hand but still audible, and the clench of your cunt around his cock had Yuu cursing, head falling forward slightly, the influx of emotion making tears spring up in his own eyes, matching your own pearly ones.

“It’s just – well fuck, I might as well come clean then, huh?” He bit his lip, slowly moving his hips forward, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slowly fucked into you, the pleasure too overwhelming for him to stay still.

You winced, the sensation of his cock brushing against your sensitive walls making you shudder, the pleasure certainly not what you wanted, and yet, with a small sob, it felt so good. It’s not fair, you thought – the man you’re in love with, taking advantage of you, and your body enjoying it so thoroughly, something that only gets confirmed as he slowly began speeding up, every thrust punctuated with a shameful moan of yours.

“I’ve – oh, I’ve loved you since damn near the fucking second I met you, a-ah, always wanted you, oh fuck baby –“ He groaned, resting his forehead against the pillow next to your head, his weight still distributed onto you and keeping you in place.

You froze, the sensations of his body and his words making your blood go cold, the idea that all this time, Yuu had felt the same hitting you like a ton of bricks. This was wrong, so wrong – and yet, why did your heart almost feel warm at his admittance?

“’ve wanted you, n-needed you, for so long, ‘m sorry, I’m sorry, god how are you still so damn tight,”, he hissed. “I’m sorry, oh fuck I’m so sorry oh –“

A particularly hard clench of your cunt had him gasping sharply, hips rutting up, the hold of his hand over your mouth momentarily broken in his moment of weakness. Quickly, your lips parted, preparing to scream for help, but Yuu’s hand was suddenly wrapped around your throat, pressing in harshly and making you splutter, the air barely circulating.

“No! N-no, no please baby please, don’t do anything rash, shit, it’s okay, I know you like – like being choked.” He grunted, making your eyes go wide. “’ve seen you choke yourself a thousand damn times, looked so fucking pretty while you fuck that little cunt with your fingers.”

You whimpered.

“Ngh, makes it feel – fuck, feel better, huh? More intense?” He muttered, keeping his hand over your throat, occasionally letting you gasp in a bit of air, but not enough to muster up a scream.

His hips were still snapping into yours, rutting up against that special spot, and before you could even question how he knew exactly where that spongy spot inside you was, the telltale signs of your orgasm were washing over you – that familiar tightness, the twitching of your muscles, the white edges of your vision.

You came with a hoarse moan, a shameful sound that had you pathetically thrashing, your attempts to resist his thrusts and strength pitiful at best. Yuu groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as his hips stuttered, the fluttering of your walls pushing him towards his own orgasm.

“Oh god, here it comes – oh shit, oh fuck, oh take it, take it take it take it -!” He moaned, the sound high pitched and desperate, and to your absolute horror a distinct warmth registered inside you, ropes of cum settling against your unprotected walls in bursts, making you stare up into those brown eyes lidded in ecstasy. His hand sporadically tightened around your throat, surely leaving harsh bruises against your sensitive skin.

After a few moments it was over, his hips finally slowing to a stop after fucking through his orgasm, his breath ragged and fanning over your face. He brought his lips down to yours, kissing you with a passion and desperation that had your head spinning, the feeling of his cock still lodged deep inside of you making you simultaneously disgusted and aroused.

He parted after a few moments, your own breath harsh as well from the hand still limiting your supply of oxygen. He rested his forehead against yours, hazel eyes staring down at you, a million thoughts a minute racing through his mind. Somehow, despite your struggling, you’d been even better than what he was hoping for – perfection, literally, and while he would’ve preferred you to enjoy it, to engage with him and love the feeling of him inside of you, Yuu was glad for what he could get.

“I – I love you.” He whispered, eyes wide and vulnerable, hazy with the after effects of pleasure. Your brows furrowed, body having grown numb from lack of blood circulation, and as the hand tightened and you slowly blacked out, the feeling of his hips beginning to move once more had you distantly squealing.

“Love you, and fuck, guess I don’t have to confess, huh? Don’t have to worry about you saying no now.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere nishinoya #_lee's fics #_yuu nishinoya #_karasuno #_haikyuu #haikyuu smut

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