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#To not always want to talk because of how frustrating life has been lately and I'm really trying to be understanding of it all
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I feel like shit, too many straws on my back and one of them is def gonna break it
#Arushi rambles#It's my bday soon and I've never had a lesser inclination to celebrate it#God ugh#My best friend isn't in town#Neither is my boyfriend#And my anxiety won't shut up about how he's actually forgotten my bday and won't even wish much less send a gift#And recently we've been talking much less too since he went back to his hometown and we went long distance#And it feels like I'm the only one who even wants to talk and it's starting to make me feel really really stupid. So stupid that I get angry#Like I get its gotten really stressful. Since he is back home plus has this whole really frustrating job hunt going and it kinda makes sense#To not always want to talk because of how frustrating life has been lately and I'm really trying to be understanding of it all#But it feels horrible to pick up my phone at 2 in the afternoon and have absolutely 0 texts since last night#Which was also me trying to initiate a casual conversation that we did not even end up having#And it makes me want to completely stop initiating any conversation and it's making me want to stop putting in any kinda effort and ughhhh#idk man#I thought this would be different#If he does forget my bday I don't think I'll stay with him. I'm not making the same mistakes here.#I was an idiot to not recognise lack of efforts in the last one I'm certainly not doing it again#No matter how fckn amazing and consistent he'd been the 4 months he was here.#Maybe I should tell him I'm feeling like shit I know I should but whenever we talk he sounds so down and stressed already#I really don't feel like adding on#Ugh idk
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propertyofwicked · 4 months
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WANTED - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - smut! MDNI!! jealous!lando, fingering + oral (fem receiving), possessive!! unprotected (stay safe yall), spitting, light slapping (u have been warned) not proofread
ur girl has finally officially finished first year!! i have never felt so freeee (im ignoring the fact i now have to move out rip) (also osc p2 monaco lets gooooo)
masterlist the playlist
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lando had been busy lately, too busy. between races, training, and quadrant, it seemed like he barely had any time to himself, or to spend with y/n. she understood, of course, she knew how demanding his career was - but understanding didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.
and even when he was around, it’s like he wasn’t there at all, not for her at least.
everyone was stood around at the end of a quadrant shoot - it had only been filmed at max’s house so the group settled into the living room easily. y/n there to accompany lando since she had little else to do, desperate to spend any time she could with her boyfriend before he flew off to the next race - even if it did mean sleeping in max’s spare room.
lando stood on the opposite side of the room, talking almost exclusively to max, whilst she sat on the sofa, alone.
y/n didn’t think anything of it when will came and sat next to her, showing her a meme on his phone that she laughed at. and she didn’t think anything of it when they continued the friendly conversation. it felt good to be noticed, to have someone ask her how she’d been - maybe she laughed a little too much at a joke that wasn’t funny, maybe it was just the first time anyone had shown her any attention in a while.
across the room, lando watched the interaction with a frown. he saw the way y/n laughed, the way she leaned in a little too close to his friend. he knew he had been neglecting her, but seeing her with someone else made his blood boil. he wasn’t possessive, no, and usually the sight of his girlfriend laughing with their friends didn’t strike any anger in him. but this was different.
“— we can post that next week sometime?” max said, interrupting his thoughts.
“yeah, yeah - sounds good,” lando replied, not really listening, “i’ll be back in a minute, just need to do something,” he added before striding across the room, leaving max stood alone, his face contorting into slight confusion.
“hey," lando said to the two, his voice low, "mind if i steal her for a minute?"
will looked somewhat confused, but nodded. lando reached out, taking y/n wrist before yanking her from the sofa, pulling them into the hallway. the door shut behind them, y/n’s mouth opened, ready to ask him what was so urgent.
"lando, what are you—"
but he didn't let her finish, pushing her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, caging her in.
"what the hell were you doing?" he demanded, his eyes sharpening with jealousy. he was met with her eyes glaring up at him in defiance.
"i was having a conversation, lando. something i rarely do with you because you're always so busy."
"so your idea of fun is flirting with my friends?" his jaw clenching.
"flirting?" she shot back, shocked, “he was asking me how i was?”
“and that’s why you were two seconds away from giggling and twirling you hair for him, no?” lando continued to argue, anger still bubbling in him as one hand dropped to her hip, gripping tightly.
“ok, i was flirting with him and now, we’re going to run away and live a long and happy life together - is that what you wanna hear?” she continued, shrugging slightly as she sighed at the ridiculousness.
he stared at her for a long moment, his chest heaving. without warning, he crashed his lips onto hers roughly, his possessiveness filled with pent-up frustration and desire he'd been ignoring for weeks. y/n responded instantly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip, begging for more.
"lan," she breathed out as he broke the kiss, whining slightly as his mouth moved to press kisses down her neck, nipping at the flesh harshly, "there’s people here."
"’don't care," he growled against her skin. "you're mine, and im going to remind you of that."
he kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body, gripping at her hips. she moaned into his mouth, her resistance melting away. she was engulfed in him, the way he touched her, the way he pushed her further into the wall as his hips rolled into hers.
"need you," she breathed when he pulled back for air, his forehead resting against hers.
he nodded, his pupils blown with his own need.
"come on," he told her, taking her hand to guide them up the stairs to max’s spare room.
stumbling through the door, clothes already being discarded, lando pushed her onto the bed, his eyes raking over her body.
"you're so beautiful," he murmured, crawling over her. "and mine. only mine."
"only yours," she whispered, pulling him down to kiss him again.
“gonna need you to be quiet f’me, ok?” he told her as his lips trailed her body, his body sliding down the bed till he was resting on his knees. he pulled her legs closer to him so his face was level with her heat, her hips moved upwards, desperate for anything after weeks of nothing.
“patience, angel,” lando breathed out, moving his finger to toy with her clit slowly. he wrapped an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, slowly he pushing a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. his lips joined onto her clit, sucking harshly as he added a second finger, curling them up into her.
“please lan,” she moaned out, unsure of what she was even asking for.
his fingers never faltered, continuing their assault as they hit that spot that had her pushing her hips up, his tongue circling her clit once more before he pulled his face away from her heat. his eyes flittered from looking up at her before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she began to fall apart for him. she was getting fidgety, her moans gaining in volume as his thumb returned to her clit, rubbing deep circles, his other hand still pushing two fingers into her at an alarming rate.
“shush angel,” lando told her, before trailing his spare hand up her body and pushing his thumb into her mouth slowly. her hand moved to grip his arm as her tongue glided along his thumb. as much as he wanted to hear her, as much as he wanted everyone to know who she belonged to, he also wanted her all to himself - no one else deserved to hear her fall apart for him.
his mouth barely had time to return to her clit before her legs were shaking around him, clamping around his head periodically as she came around his fingers.
“good girl,” lando mumbled against her thigh, his fingers slowing inside her as she rode out her high.
“need more lan, please,” y/n begged, pulling at his arm to bring his body back to hover over hers.
“so needy,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her lips, allowing her to taste herself.
“been too long,” she told him, a hand reaching down to tug at his hardened length a few times.
he would’ve felt guilty about neglecting her needs for so long, if it wasn’t for the feeling of her fingers wrapping around him, her thumb circling his tip before spreading pre cum down his cock.
“let me make it up to you,” lando told her, pressing a kiss to her jaw, before taking himself in his hands and running his tip through her slick folds. he pushed into her roughly, finding himself desperate to feel her after so long.
“breathe for me angel,” he told her, pulling out slightly as he felt the way her body tense,, “feel so good.”
his cock pushed into her again, setting a steady pace as he leant back over to kiss her harshly.
“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his. his necklace dangled from his neck, the cool metal settling on her skin.
“yeah? ‘my the only person who makes you feel like this?” he asked bitingly.
“you snatched me away before will had the chance to do a better job,” she teased cautiously.
lando pushed himself back, rising to stand at the end of the bed, his cock never leaving her. he pulled her legs again, yanking her roughly to the edge of the bed before pulling one of her legs over his shoulder. her eyes began to glaze over from the new position, his length thrusting into her tightening walls at a relentless pace. however, a sharp sting on her cheek brought her back to reality, sending shots of pleasure to her core whilst tears pricked her eyes. lando’s had slapped at her face lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to tell her that she had pissed him off a little too much.
“you wanna say that shit again?” he grunted, slowing his pace to roll his hips into hers tauntingly.
she genuinely considered it for a moment, contemplating how possessive he could get if she teased him further, but his fingers dipped into her cheek, holding her jaw tight.
she shook her head quickly as if to say no, refraining from flinching as his hand moved, but this time it fell gently, stroking her cheek where it stung.
“good answer,” lando added, returning to a regular pace, “you gonna behave now?”
“i wi- will,” she choked out, nodding despite his grip on her face, “i promise.”
satisfied with her answer, his fingers moved to toy with her clit. using the leg over his shoulder and her other leg wrapped around his waist as an anchor, her hips rose from the bed, moving in circular motions to match the pattern his fingers drew on her heat. lando’s free hand gripped at her calf, pulling her closer to him, deepening his thrusts. the tip of his cock pressing desperately into her as she whimpered and moaned his name.
lando leaned forward to kiss her, letting her leg over his shoulder drop to his waist so that she wasn’t folded literally in half. y/n wrapped around him tightly, pulling him in to kiss her deeper, tongues clashing as his thrusts faltered slightly. he balanced on his arm as his head dropped from her lips, his teeth nipping at the skin of her breast before his lips wrapped around her nipple, his free hand moved to grip tightly onto her other breast, fingers toying with her.
y/n whimpered, trying to keep quiet as she remembered how many people were also in the house. lando smirked to himself, loving the way she sounded, the way her heat gripped around his length as he moved inside her. his teeth pulled at the skin of her breast again, the flesh moving with him as he pulled away before dropping, bouncing slightly as it landed.
“so pathetic,” he grunted, feeling his high coming rapidly as he looked at her head thrown back. her mouth hung open, heavy breaths escaping, and her nails gripped tightly into the skin of his bicep. his other hand moved to settle lightly on her neck, thumb and index finger holding her jaw open for him. lando’s face hovered above hers, their eyes locking as a trail of spit fell from his mouth, landing on her tongue. he watched as she swallowed it, before re-joining their lips in a messy kiss.
“look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed, “’m so stupid for neglecting you,” he added, his tone softening from his previous frustration.
“not stupid,” she reassured, kissing his jaw.
“i love you,” he told her softly, despite his hips quickening in their movement, feeling the way her legs tightened as she got closer to her climax. his lips returned to her neck, sucking softly at the flesh, blood running cold as his ears picked up on the way she panted out his name.
“lan, baby, im go-”
“i know,” he told her, eyes squeezing shut, “let go baby, i got you.”
she came hard and fast around him, the tightening of her walls bringing him to his own climax.
“can i come inside?” he asked her, almost begging. she nodded rapidly, unable to talk as her mind became fuzzy.
“fuck,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers desperately before shooting ropes of warm cum into her, filling her completely, “all mine,” he said, more to himself than her.
lando pulled out slowly, careful of the way her eyes screwed up from the sting before rolling to lay next to her, chests heaving in unison. he turned his head to face her, noting the bruises forming on her neck and her chest, till his eyes settled on the red flush of her cheek.
“i didn’t hurt you did i?” he asked softly, hand reaching up to stroke at the redness.
“not really, it was hot,” she said with a shrug, smirking as she turned her head to face him.
“noted,” lando replied, laughing lightly.
“love it when you get possessive,” y/n added, cautious with her next statement, “makes me feel wanted.”
“im sorry i ever made you feel unwanted, angel. i never meant to,” he sighed, pulling her body close to his so that her head rested on his bare chest, “ill do better i promise.”
“i know you will, lan - i just wish i didn’t have to ask to be wanted, you know?” she told him, her fingers stroking lightly at his shoulder.
“you are wanted, y/n,” he repeated fiercely, “you are everything to me. i think i just got too comfortable with how things were, i jus- it took the thought of you leaving, the thought of you with someone else to bring me back to reality.”
“i am yours lando, forever,” she assured him, holding out her pinky to join his, “i promise. besides, if you keep fucking me like that i don’t think i could ever leave,” she joked.
“yeah?”
“but if you keep spitting in my mouth i may go completely feral, you won’t be able to get rid of me,” she said, smirking up at him, “do that again and you’re actually having my children.”
“that’s…not possible?” he questioned, smiling at her.
“so you don’t love me? is what you’re saying?” she asked, pushing herself up to look in dead in the eyes, her mouth straining to stay clamped shut in fear of laughing.
“i fear for what i have started,” lando laughed, pulling her back tightly into his chest.
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mononijikayu · 1 month
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supersonic — gojo satoru.
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Finally, Gojo breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly serious. “Was it really that bad?” You blink, confused. “What… what do you mean?” He leans back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “That I like you. Was it really that bad to hear?” “......I’m sorry, what?”
Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;
Warning/s: General Rating, SFW, Romance, Fluff, Humour, Comfort/No Hurt, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Sorcerer! Reader, Tsundere! Reader, Feelings, Romantic Confession, Getting Together, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Happy Ending, Gojo Satoru Loves Reader But Reader Doesn't Know How to React;
Words: 8k words.
Note: the bubble words is gojo saying you shouldn't fall hard for him!!! i didn't think this would be longer than 5k but I just??? i swear someone has to tell me not to make stuff longer because i feel bad that its way too long and people just suffer my yapping </3 anyway, i love you all!!! thank you so much for reading once again <3
masterlist
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YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOU HAVE GOOD MEMORY. You often boasted to Atsuya about your memory, especially during exam season or when the two of you had to write detailed reports after every mission. It was a point of pride—being able to recall every detail with sharp accuracy, a skill that set you apart.
But lately, that once-reliable memory has been betraying you, twisting itself into something both frustrating and bittersweet. Because now, instead of recalling battle strategies or obscure curses, you find yourself remembering everything about him. Gojo Satoru.
No matter how much you try to push the memories away, they persist, etched into your mind like an indelible mark. It’s infuriating because he’s the last person you want to think about. Yet, there he is, popping into your thoughts when you least expect it, with that smug grin and irritatingly carefree attitude.
You can’t forget that day during the Sister School Goodwill Event in your first year. It’s impossible. That was the first time you met Gojo Satoru, and even now, the memory of it lingers like a stubborn shadow. He was everything you couldn’t stand—arrogant, always grinning like he knew something you didn’t, and constantly cracking jokes that got under your skin. The moment he opened his mouth, you knew he was in trouble.
He’d waltzed into the event with an air of confidence that bordered on cocky, his white hair catching the sunlight as if to announce his presence to the world. You remember the way his sunglasses glinted as he surveyed the arena, looking completely at ease, like he owned the place.
And maybe, in a way, he did—after all, his reputation had preceded him. The strongest sorcerer of his generation, a prodigy unlike any other. Everyone was talking about him, and you had been curious, but when you finally met him, that curiosity quickly morphed into annoyance.
It wasn’t just his arrogance; it was the way he seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to push your buttons, like he had a map of your every weakness. From the moment he opened his mouth, you knew he was trouble.
He didn’t even bother with formalities, didn’t extend his hand or offer a respectful bow like any normal person might when meeting someone new. No, Gojo Satoru made his grand entrance with all the subtlety of a peacock in full display.
“Hey there, I’m Gojo Satoru. Don't fall in love with me too much, okay?” he said, his tone so light and casual it was as if he was talking about the weather. 
And then came that wink—oh, that infuriating wink. It was the kind of wink that dripped with self-assurance, as if he’d already decided that the world, including you, was his playground. The kind that made your blood pressure spike and your temper flare in an instant.
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you glared at him, eyes narrowing into a scowl that you hoped would convey just how unimpressed you were. But if you expected him to back down, to maybe realize that he’d crossed a line, you were sorely mistaken. Gojo didn’t just take your scowl in stride—he laughed, a sound that was as easy and carefree as everything else about him. 
The laughter caught you off guard. It wasn’t mocking, but it wasn’t exactly kind either. It was the kind of laugh that made it clear he was enjoying this, enjoying you. It was like he’d found a new toy to play with, and your irritation only made it more fun for him.
“Aw, come on, don’t look at me like that.” he’d said, still chuckling. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. We’re supposed to be having fun with this, right? No need to be so serious.”
But you were serious—deadly so. This wasn’t some lighthearted game to you; it was a competition, a test of skills and strength, something you’d been training for relentlessly. The Sister School Goodwill Event was your chance to prove yourself, to show that you weren’t just some novice from Kyoto who could be easily brushed aside. And here was Gojo Satoru, with his casual grin and infuriatingly relaxed demeanor, treating the whole thing like a joke.
Yet no matter how much you glared, or how much you tried to put him in his place with your icy demeanor, it seemed to only amuse him more. He had this way of tilting his head just so, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he were daring you to say something, to try and put him in his place. But what could you say? Anything that came to mind seemed to bounce off him like water off a duck’s back. He was untouchable, not just in skill but in personality.
And that’s what really got to you. The way he seemed to glide through life without a care, untouched by the things that would have sent anyone else into a spiral of self-doubt. He was arrogant, yes, but it was the kind of arrogance that was infuriatingly earned. He knew he was good—no, he knew he was the best—and he wasn’t afraid to show it.
As the day went on, you found yourself trying not to react to his constant quips and jabs, but it was like trying to ignore a particularly persistent mosquito. The more you tried to brush him off, the more determined he seemed to get a rise out of you. And the worst part was, he was succeeding. Every time you shot him a glare or bit back a retort, he’d just laugh that infuriating laugh, as if to say, “See? I knew I’d get to you.”
It was like he could see right through you, past the carefully constructed walls you’d built to keep people at a distance. He saw how much you cared, how much you wanted to succeed, and he poked at that vulnerability with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Not because he was cruel, but because he found it entertaining.
And that’s what made him so insufferable. He wasn’t just some cocky sorcerer throwing his weight around—he was someone who enjoyed getting under your skin, who relished in the challenge of breaking down your defenses. To him, it was all a game, and you were the unwitting participant. 
Looking back now, you can almost see the moment he decided you were worth his attention. It wasn’t when you scowled at him or tried to brush off his comments; it was when he realized that no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, you couldn’t hide the way he got to you. And from that moment on, it was as if he’d made it his personal mission to see just how far he could push you.
He was everything you couldn’t stand in a person—arrogant, overconfident, and far too comfortable with himself. But even then, there was a part of you that knew there was more to him than just that. A part of you that recognized that behind the jokes and the winks, there was someone who saw the world in a way you didn’t quite understand, someone who, for better or worse, was going to be a part of your life whether you liked it or not.
That was the beginning of your tumultuous relationship with Gojo. Every interaction since then had been a battle of wits, with him always managing to get the upper hand, no matter how hard you tried to stay one step ahead. He was insufferable, and yet… you can’t stop thinking about him.
You remember how Gojo had effortlessly dodged your attacks during that time. He was skilled and perceptive. It wasn’t just that he was fast—he moved with a fluidity that made it seem as though he was dancing rather than fighting.
Each time you lunged at him, he sidestepped or spun away with an ease that was almost maddening. His grin never faltered, never wavered. It was as if he were enjoying the entire spectacle, completely unfazed by your every attempt to land a hit.
“Come on, is that the best you’ve got?” he’d taunted, his voice carrying a casual amusement that only fueled your frustration.
The way he said it, so nonchalant and dismissive, made it clear he wasn’t just teasing—you were genuinely failing to impress him. It wasn’t just a challenge to him; it was a game. And for someone like Gojo, who seemed to have everything handed to him on a silver platter, the stakes felt almost trivial.
What made it even more infuriating was the way he seemed to almost predict your every move. No matter how you changed your strategy, how you tried to outthink him, he was always one step ahead. It was as if he had a sixth sense for reading your intentions, a talent that made him appear almost supernatural. Every dodge, every counter, was executed with a precision that left no room for error.
In that moment, it felt as though the fight wasn’t just about physical skill—it was a battle of wills. You were pouring everything you had into trying to best him, to prove that you were more than just a novice from Kyoto. But Gojo’s demeanor, his seemingly effortless ability to avoid and counter your attacks, made it feel as though you were trying to fight against an immovable force.
It wasn’t just that he was good; it was the way he made it look so easy. It was like watching someone play a video game on the easiest difficulty setting while you were struggling on the hardest. His ease in the face of your best efforts was both impressive and infuriating. It was clear he was toying with you, not out of malice but because he genuinely enjoyed the challenge, however mild it might have been for him.
Every time you threw a punch or unleashed a spell, his reaction was a mix of amusement and mild surprise. It wasn’t as if he underestimated you—he knew exactly what you were capable of, and he relished the chance to outmaneuver you. His grin was a constant reminder that he was having fun, that he wasn’t taking this seriously because he didn’t have to. For him, it was all just another day, another opportunity to show off his skills.
“You’re strong!” He tells you with a grin on his face. “Let’s be friends! Give me your phone number, quick!”
"Huh?"
"Hurry, bring out your flip phone already!"
"We're in the middle of a one on one, you idiot!"
"So? I wanna be your friend!"
And that was what made him so exasperating. The whole event felt like it was being played out on his terms, with him in control of every aspect. To him, it was less about proving himself and more about showing just how superior he was in a way that made it almost seem effortless. The arrogance wasn’t just in his words; it was in every action, every movement that demonstrated his dominance.
For you, the fight was a matter of pride, a chance to show that you were more than capable, that you could stand toe-to-toe with someone of his caliber. But every time you saw that grin, every time you heard that taunting voice, it drove home the fact that no matter what you did, you were always going to be playing catch-up. And the more you tried, the more it seemed like you were just feeding into his amusement.
The whole experience left you feeling both frustrated and oddly impressed. Frustrated because you couldn’t seem to catch him, no matter how hard you tried. Impressed because, despite your annoyance, you couldn’t help but admire his skill and confidence. It was a bittersweet combination of emotions, one that made you both present and respect him in equal measure. And as much as you wanted to forget that day, Gojo’s presence in your mind remained an ever-present reminder of the challenge he represented—and the way he seemed to effortlessly stay one step ahead.
But what bothers you the most is how, despite all of his flaws, there’s something about him that draws you in. No matter how hard you try to deny it, those memories of him, those moments where he’d flash you that grin or make a ridiculous joke, are seared into your mind.
You find yourself remembering the smallest details—the way his voice sounded when he teased you, the warmth of his hand when he’d casually patted your shoulder after a mission, the way his eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses, seemed to see right through you.
It’s maddening because you’ve spent so much time trying to forget, trying to focus on anything but him. But no matter what you do, the memories remain, vivid and persistent. And it leaves you wondering, despite everything, why you can’t just let go. Why, after all this time, you’re still thinking about Gojo Satoru.
Back then, when you first met Gojo Satoru during the Sister School Goodwill Event, you had quickly dismissed him as just another arrogant brat who seemed to have the world handed to him on a silver platter. His cocky attitude, the way he flaunted his abilities, and his effortless charm made it all too easy to write him off.
To you, he was nothing more than a figure of annoyance—a sorcerer who, with his overconfidence and privileged position, would never be someone you’d get along with. It seemed clear from the start that your paths would never truly align.
Fast forward to the summer break of that year, and you find yourself face-to-face with him again. The sun blazes overhead, turning every outdoor spot into a sweltering inferno.
You're trying to navigate the heat while staying cool, but Gojo Satoru appears as if the oppressive temperature doesn’t affect him at all. His white hair seems to shimmer in the sunlight, and he’s wearing his trademark sunglasses, the kind that makes him look perpetually unbothered.
You’re waiting in line at a smoothie stand, desperately trying to cool down with a cone in hand. You were fanning yourself, trying to evade the intensity of the strong Kyoto sun. That’s when he shows up, casually strolling towards you with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.
“Hey there, struggling to beat the heat?” Gojo calls out, his tone light and teasing. 
You roll your eyes, not in the mood for his games. “It’s scorching out here, Gojo. Not exactly the time for you to be playing your little tricks.”
“Oh, come on,” he says, leaning against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m just here to offer some company. Can’t have you melting away all alone, can I?”
You try to ignore him, focusing on your drink as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “I’m fine. Really.”
But Gojo isn’t deterred. He follows you as you leave the stand, his presence like an unwelcome shadow. “So, where are you headed next? I hear there’s a nice little café down the street. We could cool off there.”
“I’m not interested, Gojo.” you snap, quickening your pace.
“Are you sure?” he persists, easily matching your stride. “It’s not every day you get to hang out with the strongest sorcerer in town. I promise I won’t bite.”
You shoot him a skeptical glance. “You’re really not going to give up, are you?”
“Not a chance,” he grins. “You look like you could use a break, and I could use some company. Besides, I’m a great conversationalist. You might even enjoy it.”
Despite yourself, you find his persistence a bit endearing. You sigh, finally relenting. “Fine. One quick stop at the café, and then you leave me alone.”
“Deal!” Gojo exclaims, his grin widening. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”
At the café, as you sit across from him, the air conditioning feels like a blessing. Gojo Satoru is still as relaxed as ever, leaning back in his chair with that same self-assured smirk. “See? Much better, right?”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Yeah, this is definitely better. But don’t think this means I’m going to start liking you or anything.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, captain!” Gojo says, his tone playful. “I’m just here to make sure you’re not melting away into a puddle of frustration.”
As the conversation flows, his teasing starts to feel less like an annoyance and more like genuine fun. He talks about his latest adventures, exaggerates stories in his usual dramatic fashion, and even shares some surprisingly insightful observations about the work you both do. Somehow, he manages to not get on your nerves today.
“You know,” he says between bites of his own ice cream, “for someone who hates me so much, you sure seem to enjoy spending time with me right now.”
You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m just making the best of a bad situation.”
“Well, I’d like to think it’s more than that.” Gojo says with a wink. “Maybe you’re starting to see that I’m not just a cocky brat. Maybe I’m actually kind of fun.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gojo.” you warn, though you’re smiling. “This doesn’t change anything. I still think you’re incredibly annoying.”
“Fair enough, I suppose.” Gojo chuckles. “But I’ll take that as a win for now. Maybe one day, I’ll get you to admit that I’m not so bad after all.”
As you finish up your meal, you reflect on how different this encounter is from your first meeting. The arrogance is still there, but it’s mixed with a kind of charm that’s hard to ignore. Despite yourself, you find that you’re enjoying his company, and maybe, just maybe, there’s more to him than the cocky façade he puts on.
By the end of the day, as you part ways, you can’t shake the feeling that this summer break—this unexpected reunion—might just be the start of something different. Gojo’s persistence has managed to chip away at your defenses, and you’re left wondering if there’s more to this irritating sorcerer than meets the eye.
You tell yourself he’s still as annoying as ever, but your heart betrays you, pounding in your chest whenever he’s near. You don’t understand why, but you can't help but feel drawn to him. Every time you think of how he made you laugh when you least expected it, or how his confidence seemed to shield you from the world, your feelings get more confusing.
Is it possible that the guy who irritates you so much is the same one who’s now making your heart race? You can’t figure it out, but one thing’s for sure—something has changed, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You try to shake it off, convincing yourself it’s just the heat messing with your mind. After all, why would you like someone like Gojo Satoru? 
He’s arrogant, overconfident, and never takes anything seriously. But then, you remember how, during that first encounter, he didn’t just laugh at you—he noticed things. Little things. Like how you tried to stay strong even when you were clearly out of your comfort zone, or how you struggled to keep up with the fast pace of the event but never gave up.
You tell yourself it’s nothing, that he’s just good at reading people. Yet, the memory of his voice, the way he looked at you with those sharp eyes hidden behind his glasses, keeps replaying in your mind. The more you think about it, the harder it becomes to deny what you’re feeling.
It’s frustrating. You’re not supposed to like someone who drives you crazy, who makes you question everything about yourself. But here you are, your heart beating faster every time you think of him, and that infuriating smirk of his. Why did he have to be so… so irritatingly charming?
You find yourself wondering what it would be like to see him again, to have him tease you just so you can feel that strange flutter in your chest. But then, you immediately scold yourself for even thinking that way. There’s no way you could actually like him… right?
But deep down, you know the truth. No matter how much you try to deny it, the thought of Gojo Satoru won’t leave your mind. And with each passing day, the line between irritation and affection blurs just a little bit more. Yet you can’t do much about it. One way or another, somehow—you were just stuck with him being around. In Kyoto or Tokyo, or everywhere else. He’s just somehow always round. 
Months passed by, and it was summer again.
You’re sitting with Shoko Ieiri under the shade of a tree, fanning yourself with a hand to combat the relentless summer heat. It’s one of those rare, blissful afternoons where you’ve managed to carve out some free time. With Utahime-senpai occupied with a mission from Gakuganji and no assignments on your plate, you decided to take advantage of the break to catch up with Shoko. The two of you have become quite good friends over time, and her presence is a welcome relief from the sweltering heat. And you think that even under this hot summer this year, you’ll end up becoming better friends.
Shoko leans back against the tree, her posture relaxed as she takes a sip from her drink. She listens with a wry smile as you continue your tirade. You’ve been going on about Gojo Satoru for what feels like hours now, pouring out your frustrations about how annoying and insufferable he is.
“You wouldn’t believe it, Shoko. He just—ugh! He keeps showing up everywhere I go! It’s like he has a personal vendetta to make my life miserable.”
Shoko raises an eyebrow, her smile barely containing the amusement she’s clearly feeling. “And yet, you don’t seem to be able to stop talking about him.”
“That’s because he’s impossible to ignore!” you exclaim, waving your fan more vigorously. “He’s always so… so smug! Always grinning like he’s got some big secret. I can’t stand it!”
Shoko chuckles, taking another sip of her drink. “You know, the way you’re describing him, it almost sounds like you’ve got a bit of a crush.”
You nearly choke on your own breath. “A crush? Are you kidding me? I can’t stand him! He’s arrogant and insufferable. There’s no way I’d ever—”
Shoko cuts you off with a knowing look. “Oh, come on. It’s perfectly normal to be irritated by someone you’re secretly interested in. You’re practically obsessed with him.”
“I am not!” you insist, your face turning a shade redder as you realize how ridiculous you must sound. “I’m just... venting! He’s always there, poking at my patience, and it drives me insane!”
“Uh-huh.” Shoko says, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “And yet, you’ve been ranting about him for an hour now. You don’t do that with just anyone.”
You huff, crossing your arms defensively. “That’s because he’s a special kind of irritating. There’s nothing romantic about it, Shoko. It’s purely aggravation!”
Shoko leans in, her expression teasing. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say. But if you don’t want to talk about Gojo, maybe we should switch topics.”
Before you can respond, a familiar voice calls out from behind you. “Hey, I didn’t realize I’d find you here.”
You turn to see Gojo Satoru standing a few feet away, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlight in a way that makes him look even more infuriatingly cool. Beside him was Geto Suguru, who had a face that reflected yours. He was, you supposed, as done as you were with the man with bright cerulean eyes. You purse your lips. He’s grinning, that same smirk plastered across his face as he casually approaches.
“What are you doing here?” you demand, trying to keep your irritation in check. “This is a private conversation, Gojo. Leave us alone.”
“Yeah, Satoru.” Geto parrotted back, his hands in his pockets. “Leave them alone!”
Gojo just laughs, seemingly unfazed. “How cold! I was just passing by and thought I’d say hello. But it seems like I’m interrupting something. Were you talking about me?”
Shoko suppresses a grin behind her drink as you try to regain your composure. “No, we were just—”
As Gojo stands there, still grinning, Shoko decides to have a little fun. She leans in, looking as though she’s about to share a juicy secret. “Actually, I was just telling her how annoying you are,” she interjects with a playful nudge. “In detail too. Nothing was held back.”
Gojo’s smirk only widens, clearly amused by Shoko’s teasing. Before he can respond, Geto Suguru—who has been hovering just out of sight—steps into view. He’s carrying a large bag of sweets and looks somewhat frazzled, his usual cool demeanor slightly ruffled. He looked so worn out, you think. Much too much heat and Gojo, you feel for the guy.
“Honestly, you should have called me. Geto says with a grin, eyeing both you and Shoko. “I have a lot more to share about this freak.”
You turn to Geto, eyes wide in surprise. “What did you just call him?”
“HUH!? Suguboo, how dare you call me a freak?” Gojo’s voice rises in mock outrage, his face turning into an exaggerated scowl.
Geto rolls his eyes, clearly unbothered by Gojo’s antics. “You dragged me around Tokyo to buy sweets all day. I can’t feel my body anymore.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his expression one of mild exasperation. “You’re currently not on my good side.”
Gojo throws a hand up in dramatic defense. “Hey, I had to make sure you didn’t miss out on the best sweets Tokyo has to offer! It’s not my fault if you overindulge.”
Geto shakes his head, still grumbling. “I’m pretty sure it was more than just overindulgence. I was about ready to collapse by the end of it.”
Shoko laughs, thoroughly enjoying the banter. “See, you’re not the only one who has complaints about Gojo. Even Geto here has his grievances.”
You look from Shoko to Gojo and then to Geto, feeling a mix of amusement and relief. The dynamic between the three of them is light and playful, and it’s clear that there’s a strong sense of camaraderie, despite the occasional grumbling.
“Well, it’s nice to know I’m not alone in my irritation,” you say, letting out a small chuckle.
Gojo’s grin turns into a more genuine smile as he turns to you. “Hey, don’t be too hard on me. If I’m really that annoying, at least I’m entertaining.”
Geto snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Entertaining or not, you owe me for today. We’re going to need a serious dessert break after all that.”
You nod in agreement, feeling more at ease with the situation. “Agreed. And Gojo, don’t think you’re off the hook just because you showed up here. I’m still not happy about you popping up everywhere I go. You’re so annoying!”
Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Annoying, huh? Well, I guess that’s one way to describe me. But if I’m annoying, why do you keep bringing me up?”
You groan, feeling the heat on your face increase, whether from the sun or from embarrassment you can’t tell. You didn’t want to know.  “Oh, just go away. We were having a perfectly nice conversation before you showed up.”
Gojo chuckles and leans casually against the tree. “Well, I was hoping you might invite me to join you. But if I’m that annoying, I guess I’ll just have to prove I’m not.”
Shoko looks between you and Gojo, clearly enjoying the scene. “You know, it’s kind of nice to see you two together. It’s like watching a rom–com soap opera, but with crazy strong superpowers.”
You shoot Shoko a mock glare, though it's clear you’re not truly upset. The corners of your mouth twitch into a smile despite your best efforts to look annoyed. “Thanks for your support, Shoko.”
Suguru Geto, still holding the bag of sweets, grins broadly. “Shoko, you and your talent for fueling fires. I swear, you live for this kind of chaos.”
Shoko, not missing a beat, gives an exaggerated bow. “Anytime, folks. I’m here for your entertainment. It’s my specialty, after all.”
Geto chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m starting to think you enjoy stirring up trouble more than actually helping out.”
“Maybe,” Shoko admits with a playful glint in her eye. “But where’s the fun in being boring?”
You can’t help but laugh at the exchange. It’s moments like these, filled with light-hearted teasing and genuine friendship, that make summer breaks so enjoyable. The heat of the day, the annoyances of the past, and even the unexpected encounters with Gojo seem to fade into the background as you relax with friends who make even the most mundane moments entertaining.
“Well…..” you say, still smiling, “if I have to deal with more of Gojo’s antics, I’m glad I have you two around. It definitely makes the experience more bearable.”
Shoko grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We aim to please. Just remember, if Gojo starts getting on your nerves again, you know where to find us.”
“Absolutely.” Geto adds, lifting the bag of sweets in a mock salute. “And if you need more sweets to get through it, I’ll be your guy. Though, I can’t promise I won’t complain about it.”
“Oh, Suguru! There’s a Digimon-themed café nearby!” Gojo exclaims, excitement clear in his voice as he checks his flip phone. His eyes are practically sparkling with enthusiasm as he waves the phone in front of Suguru and you.
Suguru Geto, clearly exhausted from the earlier sweet spree and the relentless summer heat, groans. “Hehhhh, I don’t wanna go anymore, Satoru. I’m tired.”
Gojo, however, is undeterred by Suguru’s reluctance. He leans in, practically vibrating with eagerness. “Suguru, please! You can sit down throughout while I do my thing. They have card trades going on there right now! You know how rare those are.”
Suguru looks at Gojo with a mix of amusement and frustration. “Card trades? Really? Is that what’s got you so worked up?”
“Yes!” Gojo says, his voice rising with a mixture of pleading and excitement. “I’ve been looking for a specific card for ages. This is my chance!”
You watch the interaction with a smirk, enjoying the dynamic between the two. Suguru’s exhaustion is palpable, but Gojo’s enthusiasm is infectious. It’s clear that Gojo is determined to drag Suguru along, no matter how tired he is.
“Come on, Suguru!” Gojo continues, his tone softening as he tries to appeal to Suguru’s better nature. “Just a little while. You can rest while I geek out over the Digimon stuff. And there’s bound to be something good for you too, right? Maybe a nice, cool drink or something.”
Suguru sighs, clearly defeated but not entirely unmoved. “Alright, alright. But if this turns into another full day of Gojo dragging me around, I swear I’m going to collapse.”
“Deal!” Gojo says, beaming with satisfaction. “I promise we’ll keep it short. Just a quick visit, then we can head back. I owe you one, for real.”
Shoko could only sigh as though this is the hundredth time today. “Looks like we’re going to a cafe.”
“How do you deal with this everyday, Shoko?”
She shakes her head. “Believe me, you do not wanna know.”
As the four of you make your way to the café, you can’t help but chuckle at the contrast between Gojo’s boundless energy and Suguru’s weary resignation. It’s moments like these that highlight the unique blend of personalities and friendships that make summer days so memorable.
When you finally arrive at the Digimon-themed café, the atmosphere is lively, with colorful decorations and enthusiastic fans trading cards and chatting about their favorite characters. Gojo is immediately in his element, diving into the card trades with a fervor that makes you smile. 
Suguru, though still looking a bit tired, finds a comfortable spot to sit and relax, occasionally glancing over at Gojo with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Shojo sat beside you, sipping her cold peach iced tea. For a moment, the three of you look at Gojo and think he seems almost like a child.
“You’re a trooper, you know that?” you say, handing him a cool drink you picked up from the café. “I don’t know what I would do if Kusakabe dragged me half across town for a Digimon card.”
Suguru takes a sip and smirks. “Yeah, well, it’s not every day you get to see Gojo this excited. I guess it’s worth it. Plus, more excitement for him means he’ll be less active at the dorms tonight and not bother me.”
“That….” You paused. “So he runs out of energy too, huh?”
Suguru nodded. “Well, Satoru is a human being too. He gets tired too.”
“I think I like this version of him better.”
Shoko snickers. “You sure you don’t like him?”
“Now, now. Don’t scare them away, Sho.” Suguru smiles back at his friend. “If anything, they might be the last shot for Satoru to be a human being. After all, love makes one completely human.”
“B–but that’s not….. I don’t like him like that! He’s annoying and I just….”
“Denial that sounds like absolute lies is wasting Mother Earth’s air, you know?”
You shoot Shoko a playful glare, but your frustration is tempered by an internal chaos that’s increasingly difficult to ignore. Gojo, completely absorbed in his Digimon card quest, is a whirlwind of excitement and enthusiasm. His eyes are locked on the card he’s been wanting, and the moment he finally acquires it, his face lights up with an infectious joy that makes it hard for you to look away.
As Gojo gushes over the card and exchanges high-fives with fellow fans, you’re left sitting at the table with Shoko, trying to make sense of your own turbulent emotions. Your mind feels like a jumbled mess, caught between irritation and a confusing, unwelcome admiration. The way Gojo’s energy radiates around him, how his excitement seems to draw everyone in, including you—it’s all so bewildering.
Every time Gojo moves closer, whether he’s showing off his latest acquisition or simply passing by with that characteristic, carefree swagger, your heart races a little faster. It’s a reaction you can’t quite explain, and no matter how much you want to deny it, it’s becoming increasingly clear that you’re affected by him more than you’d like to admit.
You glance over at Shoko, who’s watching the scene with an amused expression. “How does he do it?” you ask, more to yourself than to her. “How does he make everything seem so... effortless?”
Shoko’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans back in her chair. “Oh, come on. You know exactly how he does it. It’s the same way he manages to get under your skin so easily.”
You try to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the way he gets so wrapped up in things. It’s like nothing else matters to him.”
Shoko chuckles softly. “It’s his passion. It’s what makes him who he is. And it’s probably why you can’t seem to get him out of your mind, even when you try.”
You groan, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I thought I had him all figured out, but every time he’s near, it’s like everything I thought I knew just... unravels.”
Shoko’s grin widens as she takes a sip from her drink. “Sounds like you’re having a hard time sticking to your own rules. Maybe you’re just more affected by him than you want to admit.”
You shoot her another glare, but this time it’s softer, tinged with resignation. “Yeah, well, thanks for pointing that out. I really needed the reminder.”
As Gojo returns to your table, holding up his prized card with a triumphant grin, your heart skips a beat. His enthusiasm is undeniable, and despite your internal struggle, you can’t help but be drawn to his infectious energy. He flashes a quick, radiant smile in your direction before turning his attention to Suguru, who’s still looking somewhat worn out but is clearly amused by Gojo’s excitement.
“Look what I got!” Gojo announces, waving the card in front of Suguru and you. “It’s the one I’ve been searching for!”
You try to muster up a response, but the sight of Gojo’s unabashed joy and the warmth of his smile make it difficult to focus on anything else. Your heart continues to beat faster, and despite your best efforts to keep your feelings in check, it’s becoming increasingly clear that Gojo’s presence has a profound effect on you.
Shoko leans in closer, her voice a soft tease. “Looks like you’re in for an interesting summer. Who knows? Maybe there’s more to this adventure than just the heat.”
You let out a soft sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and acceptance. As Gojo continues to share his excitement with Suguru and the other café patrons, you find yourself caught up in the moment, realizing that no matter how much you try to resist it, Gojo Satoru is undeniably a part of your world now—one you can’t seem to escape, no matter how hard you try.
“I’m craving some ice cream, it’s still too hot.” You muttered under your breath towards Shoko. “I’m going to go and buy some.”
“You want me to go with you?” Shoko asked, looking up towards you. 
You shake your head. “I’ll need some time to think for a bit. Besides, it's just around the corner.”
She nodded back at you. “Okay, then call us when you come back. Gojo might be here a while, the nerd he is.”
“Sure.” You managed to mutter as you walked off.
It didn’t take you long to get to the ice cream store. You settle into a corner booth, hoping the relative solitude will give you a chance to cool down both physically and mentally. The air conditioning provides a much-needed respite from the relentless summer heat, and the cold, creamy sweetness of your ice cream is a soothing balm for your frayed nerves.
Despite the comfort of the cool air and the calming effect of the ice cream, your mind refuses to be at peace. It keeps drifting back to Gojo Satoru—his teasing words, that infuriating grin, and the effortless way he seemed to handle everything while you were left feeling like a tangled mess of frustration and confusion. You replay the scene in your head over and over, each replay adding another layer to your mounting exasperation.
You stab your spoon into the ice cream with a little more force than necessary, your frustration spilling over into the simple act of eating. The satisfying crunch of the spoon hitting the ice cream echoes your internal struggle. You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice the door of the shop opening until a familiar voice breaks the silence.
“There you are.”
You freeze, spoon halfway to your mouth. Slowly, you look up to see Gojo Satoru standing in the doorway, his tall frame casting a shadow over your table. He’s got that same easygoing smile on his face, but there’s something different about his expression—something softer, almost hesitant.
“Where’s Suguru and Shoko?”
“They wanted to stay behind to rest up.”
“....Makes sense. You drained them up from energy.”
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he steps inside and takes a seat next to you at the small table.
You can’t help but feel a surge of panic mixed with irritation as you watch Gojo settle into the seat next to you. Of all the places in the city, why did he have to find you here, in this tiny ice cream store where you’d sought refuge from the chaos of the day? The familiar flutter in your chest is back, and despite your efforts to remain calm, your heart races as he sits down across from you.
Gojo’s presence feels overwhelming, and the proximity only amplifies your confusion. You can’t seem to reconcile the image of him as the carefree, teasing troublemaker with the more subdued, almost earnest expression he wore earlier. The combination of his unexpected arrival and the emotional turmoil from the day makes it hard to focus on anything else.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The only sounds filling the space are the steady hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of your spoon against the bowl of melting ice cream. It’s a stark contrast to the earlier energy of the café and the animated conversations you’d been a part of. Now, the silence feels almost oppressive, adding weight to the tension hanging between you.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on the ice cream, but the act of eating feels mechanical, a mere distraction from the growing unease. Each clink of your spoon against the bowl seems louder than it should be, amplifying the silence and making it harder to ignore the pounding of your heart.
Gojo, seemingly unfazed by the silence, takes a casual sip from his own ice cream. His relaxed demeanor is in sharp contrast to your internal turmoil, and it only serves to heighten your frustration. You want to break the silence, to say something that will diffuse the tension and make sense of the situation, but the words elude you.
Finally, Gojo breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly serious. “Was it really that bad?”
You blink, confused. “What… what do you mean?”
He leans back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “That I like you. Was it really that bad to hear?”
“......I’m sorry, what?”
Your breath catches in your throat, and you suddenly feel the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But the words won’t come out. Instead, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and completely at a loss for what to say.
Gojo’s expression softens, and he gives you a small, almost shy smile. “I’m not the best at being subtle, I know. But I meant it. I like you.”
Your heart skips a beat, and in your shock, you try to respond—but instead of words, all that comes out is a choked gasp as you accidentally inhale a spoonful of ice cream.You start coughing, the cold dessert lodged in your throat as you struggle to catch your breath. Gojo’s eyes widen in alarm, and he quickly reaches over to pat your back, trying to help you out. 
“Hey, hey, easy! Are you okay?”
You manage to swallow the ice cream, though your throat still feels cold and tight. Your face is burning with embarrassment, and you can barely bring yourself to look at him. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine… I just… you just…”
Gojo lets out a relieved laugh, though there’s a hint of concern in his eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shock you that much. I guess I should’ve picked a better time to say it, huh?”
You don’t know how to respond. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, disbelief, and something else you can’t quite identify. The fact that he just confessed, out of nowhere, is overwhelming, to say the least. He waits for you to say something, his usual playful demeanor tempered with genuine concern. 
“I’m serious, though. I know I tease you a lot, but that’s just because I like being around you. You’re fun, and… well, I like you.”
You feel your heart pounding again, and you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or the way he’s looking at you. It’s different from his usual teasing gaze—there’s a sincerity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.
“I…” You struggle to find the right words, but nothing comes out the way you want it to. “I don’t know what to say.”
He smiles, that playful edge returning just a bit. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know how I feel. But… if it’s too much, I’ll back off.”
You shake your head, feeling a mix of emotions too tangled to sort out. “No, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”
Gojo’s smile softens, and he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. “It’s okay. We don’t have to figure it all out right now, okay?”
You nod slowly, your mind still reeling from everything that’s happened. As he sits there beside you, holding your hand in his, you realize that despite all the teasing and frustration, there’s something undeniably real about the way he’s looking at you now. Maybe, just maybe, this summer heat isn’t the only thing making your heart race.
Gojo’s hand is warm against yours, and the feeling sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. He’s still looking at you with that playful grin, but there’s a tenderness in his gaze that makes your heart flutter.
“Sorry for springing this on you out of nowhere.” he says, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “But I couldn’t help it. Seeing you all flustered and cute earlier… I just had to tell you how I feel.”
You glance down at your hands, trying to process everything, but all you can focus on is the way his fingers are interlaced with yours. It’s surprisingly comforting, and you find yourself feeling a little less overwhelmed by the situation.
Gojo leans in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a soft, teasing tone. “You know, you’re even cuter when you’re flustered. I might have to make it my mission to see that expression on your face more often.”
You feel your cheeks heat up again, and you instinctively try to pull your hand away, but Gojo holds on gently, his smile widening. “No escaping this time. You’ve caught my attention, okay?  I’m not letting go so easily.”
You huff, trying to sound annoyed, but it comes out more flustered than anything. “You’re such a pain, Gojo.”
“Ah, but I’m your pain, right?” he quips back, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”
“Well, I’m saying it." he replies, leaning in even closer until you can feel his breath against your cheek. “And I think you secretly like having me around, even if you won’t admit it.”
You’re about to protest, but the words catch in your throat when you see how close he is. His face is only inches from yours, and the playful grin has softened into something more sincere.
“I like being around you, you know?” he murmurs, his voice gentle. “Even if I drive you crazy sometimes.”
You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s something incredibly endearing about seeing Gojo like this—still teasing, but with a softness that makes your heart melt.He pulls back just enough to give you a bit of space, his expression turning thoughtful.
 “You know, I’ve had a lot of people in my life, but no one’s ever made me feel the way you do. It’s different with you… in a good way.”
You blink, taken aback by the honesty in his words. “Really?”
“Really.” he says, his smile warm and genuine. “You’re special to me. And I don’t want to let go of something that feels this right.”
Your heart swells at his words, and for a moment, you forget all the teasing and frustration. All you can think about is how sincere he’s being, how much he actually cares.
Gojo must notice your softened expression because he chuckles lightly, his eyes twinkling. “Now, I know this is a lot to take in, but… would you mind if I tried something?”
You tilt your head, curious. “What?”
Instead of answering right away, he reaches out with his free hand, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is featherlight, almost hesitant, as if he’s waiting for your reaction. When you don’t pull away, he smiles softly and leans in closer.
“Just wanted to see if you’d let me do this.” he whispers, and before you can respond, he presses a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead.
The contact is brief, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You stare at him, wide-eyed and speechless, while he pulls back, looking pleased with himself “There,” he says with a grin. “Now you can’t say I don’t have feelings for you.”
You finally find your voice, though it comes out more like a squeak. “Y-You… Gojo!”
He laughs, not at all fazed by your reaction. “What? Too much? I thought it was pretty sweet.”
You bury your face in your hands, trying to hide the furious blush spreading across your cheeks. “You’re impossible!”
Gojo just chuckles and gently pries your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him again. “I might be impossible, but you’re stuck with me now. So… what do you say? Think you could handle having someone like me around a little more?”
You glance at him, and despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re not going to give me much of a choice, are you?”
“Not really.” he admits, his grin turning playful again. “But I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
You sigh, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Instead, there’s a warmth spreading through your chest that you can’t ignore. “Fine,” you say, pretending to be reluctant. “But if you keep teasing me like this, I’m going to get back at you.”
Gojo’s eyes light up, and he leans in with a smirk. “Oh, I’m looking forward to that. Let’s see if you can keep up.”
And just like that, the tension melts away, leaving you with a strange sense of contentment. You don’t have everything figured out yet, but with Gojo sitting beside you, still holding your hand, you think maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind figuring it out together.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months
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Ooo can I please request a Wonka x fem!reader where she’s his wife and she gets trapped in the laundry mat as well and Willy is really upset and feeling like an awful husband because they don’t have a lot of money and now are also stuck captive🥺 Y/n reassuring him that they’ll get through this and that she’s just happy that they’re together 🥺 They’ve been together for years, and Y/n has been by his side through all of the adventures with getting all his chocolate ingredients and making chocolate, and she’ll always stay by her SWEET husband’s side 🥹
Also I LOVE YOU
oh m gee I love this idea AND I LOVE u!! my reqs r open for wonka now (;
𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅ℯ𝒹
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Willy.” You groaned out when your head hit the bottom of the chute. He said your name, looking at you and quickly grabbing your hand.
You both then looked in front of you guys, at the others. They introduced themselves, but he wasn't having any of it. He got up and you both quickly tried to find an exit.
"There's a dog over there-" someone said, but it was too late when you realized, and the dog barked, so you backed away.
He was frustrated with himself- In his mind, it was his fault. He felt like a terrible husband when he looked at your face full of confusion. You were trapped.
You both listened and watched as they explained what you both would be doing- for God knows how long. You noticed his unusual behavior and quietness. And at the end of the day, you stood in his room with him.
"Willy, what’s wrong?”you interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.
“It's not your fault, willy.”
“It is. I should've known something was wrong."
“You shouldn't blame yourself, Willy. You couldn't have read it. You couldn’t have known.”
He sighed and sat down on the bed. You sat down next to him, and he turned to you, taking your hand in his.
"All I've ever wanted since I married you was to make you happy. You've been with me every step of the way. I love you, so much. And now, we're stuck in the basement of a hag all because I wasn't careful. You are the best thing to ever happen in my life. You deserve better.”
You laughed at the last sentence. "I'm happy. I'm happy anywhere I am as long as it's with you. I love you, and I promise you we'll get through this. When we get out of here, we'll start the best chocolate business anyone's ever seen." you said, he looked at you with a small smile on his face as you talked.
His eyes were full of adoration, with a twinkle of hope as he listened to your words. He leaned in and closed his eyes, hands moving to cup your face.
"I love you." he said once more, his words a promise of a better future.
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babeyun · 4 months
Text
falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser]
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✩ series m.list
✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s.
✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort
✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader
✩ word count: 2k | [full fic: tbd]
✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.
✩ warnings: mentions of disappearances. some slightly suggestive themes between husband!hee & wife!reader (nothing explicit), uhhh that's it for now i think!
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friday, 9:23pm.
"late night?"
your voice has always been a comfort to him.
the way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. your soft eyes, eyes that had never seen an inch of a crime scene. your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.
you were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. he always brought it with him, anywhere he went...anywhere you were.
"not really. caught a session with dr. bahng. i'm sorry about dinner." he loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. he takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wanted to sully it with such grime. "how was your night?"
your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. he fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, because he can't let go of work. he has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.
"it was...fine." you wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. only then does heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. his eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "are you going out with your friends?"
you don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. he sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "why are you upset, honey?" "i'm not, i'm not upset." you scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. you knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. his lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "i know you better than that."
you're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. he's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.
the same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. it's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. it wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. it wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.
he felt awful, really. that he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him...how his sessions with dr. bahng were no longer of much help. "leave work at work, lieutenant. you have the love of your life waiting for you at home." he had it memorized at this point.
"it's always the same thing, don't worry about it." you turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. you weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. you just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. "baby."
you wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. one you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. you grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "don't baby me, heeseung."
"don't heeseung me, y/n. i know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – i'm not letting you go to bed like this." he looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. just talk to me.
you shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "let me go, heeseung."
"not until you tell me what's going on." his voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "i've been at work all day, dealing with shit i can barely stomach. i just want to come home and spend time with you. what's wrong?" he's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your heart ache and your eyes sting with tears.
"i just want to spend time with you, without having to beg for it." you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "you remember everything, hee. i know you had to remember that tonight is date night." sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.
"i'm sorry, honey. it really did slip my mind. let me...let me take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" he starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "it's fine, heeseung. let's just go to bed." "no, let me fix this. we haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." he slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. he was right, and you hated that you knew he was. heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?
yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. the two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, cha soyoung.
heeseung was even more cold and stoic then, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. he didn't really speak, which according to hs friends, was unnatural. they wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to park sunghoon. the seven of them also ended up working at the same precinct.
"heeseung talks...a lot. not as much as jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." sunghoon had said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "it's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?" you had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. you had met sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except heeseung. he'd gone home with soyoung for the summer, returning to seoul for the fall semester at decelis university with her and your other friends. you still never spoke, until now.
you and sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.
"hey, hoon. y/n." heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. sure, you'd only ever seen picures of heeseung but you knew enough to know that this...wasn't him. neither you nor sunghoon spoke as heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.
"how are you feeling?" sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. you stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. "i don't feel much, actually."
sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. you rounded the table to heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. he'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back ot you, awkwardly entering your embrace. your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder.
"m'sorry." he mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head.
sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. something about the way that heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way that he sobbed into your shoulder made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. someone to help him hop along until soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.
that was six years ago.
you and heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of soyoung's disappearance. the police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. you and heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen soyoung.
heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and often reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. he never had – you had all hit a dead end. everyone's hope began to dwindle, but heeseung never let that sway him. he even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. you'd pinned those up, too.
he was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. you love heeseung, you love the person he is...
...but you hate that he can't leave his work at work. you hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. you hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you.
the man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. the man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you. rubbing your feet while watching law and order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)
heeseung loves you, you know that. you just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.
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BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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taglist [those in red could not be tagged!]: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @thenastone @marimariiiiiiii
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iiwaijime · 1 month
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DESTINY — O. MIYA
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cws; swearing, gn?reader, just fluff...!
wc; 713
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osamu miya.
he's the type to cook for you, always. like, regardless of how well you can cook, or how different your schedules are.
"what time will you be up?" he asks.
"6:15."
and he'll be there cooking your breakfast already.
that's not to say you don't experience lazy mornings, either, when osamu has his arms wrapped loosely around you, and your legs are tangled together. when sometimes you talk about everything, and other times you talk about nothing, and he kisses your shoulder and you kiss his hands. he's warm, too, warm enough that you're kicking the covers off yourself and scooting away from him once you're awake enough. he's undeterred, though, following you around like a determined puppy until you finally give in and let him pull you back into his chest.
he's the type to absolutely smush your cheeks together when he kisses them; he definitely loves kissing your cheeks. he also loves nose kisses!!! he adores your nose — your everything, really, he just loves you a lot.
he loves chauffeuring you around, like hell YEAH he's your man and he will do everything for you. on slower days, he probably like, drives with one hand and uses the other to hold on to your hand or just rests it on your thigh.
speaking of which! this man is HUGE on physical contact. it's nothing too showy, and it doesn't really matter if you're in public or not. like, he ALWAYS holds your hand, everywhere! or has a pinky hooked around yours if you can't do that! OR OR OR when it's cold, he holds your hand and tucks it into his pocket along with his own.
adding onto the when will you wake up thing, when the two of you didn't live together he'd make sure he was awake before you so you could see a good morning text when you woke up, whether you woke up super early or super late.
when osamu falls in love, he falls so fucking hard. this man gets you flowers and keeps one for himself so he knows when to get you new ones. he buys you coffee every day and has a picture of you in his wallet, and a polaroid in his phone case. when you start living together, he writes you stupid lovey dovey notes and sticks them around everywhere. he even does the notes app thing and he knows everything you like. his wallpaper and lockscreen are both pictures of you, and he unironically has an i love my partner tshirt. probably more than one, if i'm being honest.
he lazes around in bed with you when you want, and has all your favourite movies downloaded everywhere, just in case. want to watch a new movie? he's bought the tickets before you even ask. he takes you to libraries and bookstores, and he dances with you in the rain, and goes on walks with you, and he's just so perfect, even when he's not. and he thinks — no, he knows you're perfect, even if you think otherwise.
he's SO good at comforting you. if you don't want to talk, that's okay! he'll hold you until you feel better, or until you're ready to tell him. or he can distract you with the stupidest small talk, if that's what you need. and he knows exactly what to say, always. he understands you, in silence and frustration and grief and pain. when you're okay, and when you're not. and whatever happens, he's always there for you.
and he's not a poet, and all he really knows is volleyball and cooking, but he swears you're some sort of wizard, because everything you do and everything you say is magic, and he's never been more enamoured by anyone, ever. if love is a person, it's you.
he's never believed in soulmates, but he knows he's made for you, made to love you, made to be yours. he's never really believed in things like fate either, but if he's destined to spend the rest of his life like this, with you, he thinks he could learn to live with it. but that's a lie, really, because he's not just okay with it. he's actually so fucking down to have you as his forever.
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WSG UR FAVOURITE ACADEMIC WEAPON WITH THE COOLEST CHILLEST MOM EVER HAS POSTED rubs hands together evilly PLEASE LIKE FOLLOW REBLOG AND OR COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME!!!
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silveryclear · 10 months
Text
MOJABI GHOST
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Ex Female Reader
CW: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Thigh and Knee Riding, Bilingual Dirty Talk, Penetration, Rough Sex, Needy, Desperate Sex, Mating Press, Cockwarming
Description: Miguel drops by your apartment after he can’t stand the silence of his penthouse. He misses you, and tonight, you’ll see just how much~
Translation done by yours truly~
Song: “MOJABI GHOST” by Tainy, ft. Bad Bunny
Smoking,
Drinking,
Fucking,
Pretending that I don’t think about you.
I don’t who I’m trying to kid,
For this feeling,
Won’t let me sleep.
And I wish,
I wish, that I could dream peacefully,
That I could dream about you.
Another night alone. Another night without you.
Miguel O'Hara looks over view of Nueva York while drinking from his third glass of whiskey on the rocks; rocks that have melted and diluted the drink that has been abandoned for thoughts about you.
The truth is that Miguel has abandoned many things because of his mind— the treacherous bitch does not stop thinking about you.
Who could ever stop thinking about you, is the question that he should be asking. But he doesn't. And he’s well aware why.
Because that would require him to accept the reality that he fucked up the only thing that had given him happiness and warmth after what had happened with his daughter. And once again, it’s something that he doesn’t allow himself to forgive.
At first, you were only a hindrance, an annoyance which he could not get rid of. You were always looking at him with that sweet expression, ready to face the next anomaly with a smile and good attitude. He couldn’t stand you. The fact that you could face every problem and tragedy, a particular characteristic of spiderpeople, without your spirit being corrupted ... he hated it. He hated it to death.
Yet, observe how easy it is for him to lie. Because in reality, he never hated you. How could he hate the one person who received him with such a unique and special warmth and affection— the woman who, one by one, took down each one of his walls, making them crumble to the ground and fall as he did when he fell in love with you. Although, too late.
He lets out a dry laugh. There is no doubt that he is Spider-Man: the people he loves never stay for long.
Isn't that how he ended up here in the first place?
He sighs, exhausted. I don't want to think anymore.
He takes a swig from the whiskey and frowns, letting out a sound of disgust from the watered down drink and decides to get back into the penthouse. He looks around.
And now what?
Fuck this pity party. Miguel may not be in his five senses at the moment, but he doesn’t think twice before activating his nanotech suit and traveling to your dimension. He doesn't know what is the right to do; If you prefer your space, that he never contacts you again. All he knows is that he cannot stand this purgatory; and that your screams and curses are better than the overwhelming silence of his apartment.
As soon as he steps out of the portal into your apartment, you can already sense each other. It is almost impossible to sneak up on a Spider person, that's why he isn’t surprised when he finds you sitting in your living room, staring at him without blinking.
"What are you doing here?" You ask without emotion after several seconds of silence.
"You know what I came for." he says as he removes his mask and approaches your figure. However, your cold look stops him in his tracks.
“I don't care. I want you to say it.” you say while you stare into his eyes sharply. He deserves it. "Be direct for once in your life."
"Hey," he warns, baring his fangs. “Don’t push it.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms, ignoring his warning. "Then leave. I was clear: don't come back until you tell me how you really feel.”
"Don't you think I want to?!" Miguel shouts, frustrated; Not with you. Never with you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, controlling his anger. When he opens his eyes, you’re surprised to see actual remorse. "I'm dying to have you in my arms again..."
You can’t help to soften your expression when you caught the frustration in his voice and how difficult it is to express his true emotions at the moment. "Then why the hesitation?" You ask softly, your voice a sweet melody to his ears. Then, a sudden thought makes your blood run cold. “...unless I wasn’t good enough for you.” Your voice trembles and you can't suppress the tears that arise.
Miguel’s face falls and without thinking twice, he runs to you and hugs you tightly, snaking an arm around your waist and his hand behind your neck. He listens as you sob into chest and he brings you even closer, his hand gently stroking your back. "Shh... no, my love, that can’t be further away from the truth." He whispers softly into your ear. "I am the one who’s not good enough for you."
Miguel lets out a dry, incredulous laugh. “I'm the worst… to cause the most wonderful woman in all of the multiverse to think the opposite…” He presses a kiss against your forehead and brings you closer to him. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please, forgive me for being such a coward.” He murmurs apologetically as he buries his face into your neck and breathes in your scent.
God, how I missed this smell~
He leans back and stares into your eyes, stroking your cheeks and wiping your tears.
"I love you," he declares, more confident than ever. "I don't want to keep loving you from afar. I don’t want to run away, fearing that one day I will lose you if it also keeps you far from my arms.” He presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and whispering the last few words full of emotion, "If I still lose you...”
"God, Miguel..." You crumble once again and hug him tightly. "I love you so much," you confess in the midst of tears. "I’m afraid too, we are both spider people, we both risk our lives to prevent Multiverse from collapsing… our job is dangerous and it is painful to think about the great possibility that I could lose you,” You look into his eyes, holding his face in your hands. "But it hurts more to have you so close, and not by my side."
"I know..." He whispers as he leans towards your sweet touch. “I'm such an idiot. I thought I was protecting you from the pain, but in reality, I hurt you even more.” He stares into your eyes, his gaze full of remorse. "You could forgive this fool in love?"
You laugh softly and Miguel swears that his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, you look at him with a mischievous smile. "Hmm, I don't know..."
Miguel groans and looks at you with desperation, as if he needed to hear that he has been forgiven to be calm. "Love, please..." He whimpers softly against your neck, kissing it sensually.
Your grin becomes wider and playful. You take his chin and make him look into your eyes. "But you sound so nice, Miguelito~” You purr. “Do it again~”
Shit...
Miguel feels how his cheeks redden and he short circuits when he hears your playful and dominant voice. It was a side of you that he had never seen. Or rather, one he never tried to get to know. He was so obsessed with controlling everything that he never realized that he kept you from expressing yourself around him.
Damn ... he definitely deserves to beg to you.
"My love..." He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please, I beg you... Forgive me. Let me show you how sorry I am.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of the most stoic and stubborn man in the multiverse kneeling in front of you, begging like a dog. Is this a dream? More like a miracle.
"Wow... You really missed me, didn't you, Miguelito~?"
Miguel takes your hand and kisses your palm, staring into your eyes. "You have no idea." He whispers. Your heart skips a beat, blood rushing through your veins at an extreme speed. You feel the love that this man has for you and you cannot avoid the genuine smile that grows in your face.
You place your arms around his neck and you kiss his cheek. "I forgive you. Show me exactly how sorry you are~"
It takes Miguel less than two seconds before he is on top of you, your back on the sofa while his knee separates your legs. It seems as if all your confidence disappears as soon as Miguel touches you, his large hands gripping your waist. You feel tempted to deviate your gaze, but his crimson eyes keep you paralyzed under their intensity, full of lust.
"Oh baby..." he lets out a soft growl as his lips brush against your neck, making you shiver once more. “Eres mía~” (You’re mine~)
His fingers quickly disrobe you, his lips kissing every inch of your soft skin. His breathing quickens, breathing hot and heavy as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, hand groping the other. He lets out soft grunts and moans of pleasure as he worships your chest, sucking and biting, leaving wet hot marks on your skin.
You grab onto his hair, your back arching off from the couch as he continues his assault. He lets out a particularly long groan when he feels you grind your wet pussy on his knee. He chuckles darkly and presses onto you even harder, making you shiver and moan in delight.
“That’s it mami…” he growls, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Grind that needy pussy on me… make yourself feel good.”
A sound of pleasure escapes from your lips. You close your eyes and decide to immerse yourself in the pleasure that both have refused for too long— no longer wanting to deprive your body of what it craves; and your heart from the one you love.
Your arms wrap around his neck, hips bucking against his clothed knee, soaking the nanotech fabric. He can only watch in awe how easy it was to reduce you to a sensitive mess— rubbing and pressing his thigh against your throbbing pussy, gripping your hips tighter as he guides you.
“Oh fuckkkk… Miguel…” The way you so readily give your body to him— it awakens a primal side to him that even he didn’t realize he had. The need to explore how many times he can make you cum without fucking you with his cock had his mind reeling from the possibilities.
Should he finger you now? Should he make you cum on his tongue? Ride his face?
“Miguel… oh Miguel~” you mewl, the squelching sound of your juices on his leg echoing in the room. Small puffs of hot air leave past your lips, your hips bucking so needy and desperate for friction.
However the night ends, what he does know is that he so desperately craves to hear you whine his name like that again.
“Come on, cariño…” he keeps rutting your hips against his thigh, now unclothed as his dick strains against the nanotech clothing that covers his groin. “What do you need~?”
“Need you…” You pant out, chest heaving rapidly. “Need you inside… please Miguel~”
He chuckles darkly. “Already? But baby, we just started~” He teases, slowing down the rubbing against your clit, making you whine in frustration.
“Fuck that! I missed you, maldito!” You growl, making Miguel’s eyes widen when you voice out your frustrations.
This makes Miguel chuckle heartedly, gazing down at you with affection and primal lust. “You missed my cock that much, baby~?”
“Not your cock. You.” This startles Miguel, actually making him blush. His chest fills with so much love and affection for you. God, he needs you so badly.
“Te amo, mi arañita…” (I love you, my little spider…) Miguel murmurs softly before leaning down and claiming your lips softly. A low moans escape from your lips as you feel just how serious he is. “Missed you… missed your touch…” he breathes out against your neck once he pulls away, his lips brushing against your skin. Miguel shivers and groans, loving the way your warm, soft skin feels against his. You can only watch as he worships you, too paralyzed by this feeling to speak. “Missed your smell…” he inhales your scent softly before pressing a kiss on your neck. “Missed your voice… let me hear it please…”
“Ahhhh… Miguel…” you find your voice, breathing out your response as your chest rises and falls rapidly, trembling underneath him.
“Fuck…” he groans from your needy voice. Miguel trails wet kisses down your hot skin, licking away your sweat. His fangs lightly graze your thighs, teasing you with his tongue. He chuckles when you arch your back, whimpering his name, begging to take you— to do something already!
He grins as he kisses the inside of your thigh. “You’ve never been very patient.”
You whine, your hand making it’s way to his hair and tugging him closer to your throbbing pussy. He chuckles and licks a long, agonizing swipe along your glistening folds, making you groan in response. “Good thing I’ve never been very patient either~”
Miguel takes his time, swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices— yet, the way that he grips your thighs, so close to digging his claws into your skin while he groans from your taste— it only makes him look more desperate and feral than when he first begged for you.
You jolt and shiver in delight, the drag of his fat, warm tongue bringing you to heights of pleasure you only had the joy of experiencing with Miguel. The feelings of pleasure were so delicious and excruciating, it makes you buck your hips against his face. You grind your pussy on his face unashamedly, his nose brushing against your clit deliciously.
Watching from below, how your hips arch and you tug harder on his hair is all that Miguel needed to die happily. His groans and harsh breathing muffled by your desperate grinding.
“Mmm… shlppp… mmnh…” His eyes remain trained on your cute expressions, a particularly harsh suck of your clit eliciting a whiny moan from you that had him reeling.
“Fuck… Miguel…! I’m so close!” You whine so pretty and needy. His claws digging dig into your thighs, pressing his face harder against your cunt as he eats you out like an animal.
Miguel moans against your cunt, murmuring for you to cum on his tongue, to do it now. It comes out a wet, muffled mess, but you didn’t care. You were already a moaning mess as you came, spreading your juices all over Miguel’s face. His tongue works on your core like a man dying of thirst, lapping up every drop of your juices and overstimulating the fuck out of you. He never came up for air, submerged between your thighs, delving his tongue deeper, sucking harder. This is where he belongs.
“Mi— Miguel! It’s too much..!” You whine, trying to push his head away but he’s glued to your pussy— and he’s not moving until he’s licked you clean.
After a few more seconds, he gives your pussy one last lick before he comes back up, his tongue hanging out as he smiles smugly. You twitch and writhe underneath him from the overstimulation, gazing at him with a satisfied and dazed expression. He tantalizingly drags his long tongue around his mouth, lips, chin… cleaning up your cum from his face, making sure you watch. “Dios mío, que rico sabes mami~” (My god, you taste delicious mami~)
You whimper, your hole twitching at the erotic display. Miguel watches as your pussy flutters with primal lust, smiling at you like a predator. “You liked that, baby? Do you still want more?”
Before you could respond, Miguel is on top of you, claiming your lips in a hot, sensual kiss. You groan at the taste of yourself on his lips, this only turning you on even further. He grips your ass, bringing your wet core towards his now fully unclothed and erect cock.
“Mmmngh… mmnh… ahhhhh…” You whimper into the kiss as he grinds his cock against your sensitive folds, spreading your juices all over.
“You want this cock, baby? Huh? I can’t hear you. Tell me how badly you want me. Tell me. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” Miguel whispered into your ear as he kept grinding himself against you, teasing you once again. You can only cry out, frustration building up inside of you as you feel your hole squeezing against nothing, craving his thick cock.
“Please… Miguel…”
“Dime lo que quieres preciosa… ¿quieres que te lo meta? ¿Sí? ¿Quieres que te coja?” (Tell me what you want, precious… you want me to put it in? Yeah? You want me to fuck you?)
“Yes, Miguel! Just… please!”
As much as he loves teasing you, he needed to nestle his cock inside of you. Right. Now.
“M’gonna bury this cock deep inside you… make sure your pussy remembers the shape of my cock…” He chuckles as he lines himself up with your hole and slowly pushes his cock past that first, tight ring inside your cunt. “Fuck… such a tight fit… bet you didn’t fuck anyone with a dick as big as mine…” he groans and pushes further. “no other cock can stretch you out like mine can…”
“No one… only you…” you breathe out in satisfaction as you finally feel your pussy getting full. “M’so full…”
Miguel lets out a string of curses and groans at the feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him. “Yeah, that’s right baby… only my cock can fill you up this good.” He smirks as he looks down at you, caged between his arms and large body. “Gonna let me fuck this pussy, huh? Want me to pound you until you can’t think?”
“Yes, Miguel! Yes!”
That’s all the confirmation he needed before he started rutting his hips against yours at a fast pace. No time to start slow, no. This is the type of desperate and primal sex that lovers have after they’ve gone a long time without seeing each other. The type that builds up overtime only to be released in the heated thrust of each other’s hips. The type that has you moaning out gibberish and wrapping your arms and legs around him as Miguel thrusts his hard cock inside, going feral on your pussy.
“Fuck… I missed this… I missed you…” Miguel grunts with every thrust, small puffs of air leaving his lips as he ruts even faster, deeper. His muscles flex with every movement. He presses his hot body against yours, feeling your tits brush against his chest with every thrust.
“M-Miguel… please… harder!” You moan, digging your nails into his broad back.
“Yes…” his voice is so rough, so hungry that it’s almost jarring. Every word he says, every look on his face seems to radiate his intense feelings for you.
He needs you, oh, does he need you.
His arms are like steel on your body, keeping you still within his grasp, and he makes you feel every inch of him, pounding himself into you in a frenzy. This is what he had been looking for, needing. He fills your entire existence for just a moment, completely and utterly enraptured by you.
“Te amo… te amo tanto…” (I love you… I love you so much…) he whispers into your ear, biting and sucking on it. One of his hands makes its way between your legs as he rubs your clit. “Ven conmigo, bebé… I need you to cum with me…” (Come with me, baby…)
“Miguel! Ohh… I’m g- Mmm… Ahhhh~!” Your moans are muffled by his lips against yours. The pounding of his cock, his thumb rubbing your pussy, and this hot, searing kiss was all you needed to finally let go. Squelching hot cum bathes Miguel’s cock and balls as you tremble and writhe in ecstasy.
“That’s it, baby… god, you did so good…” he groans, placing your forehead against his as he ruts his hips faster. Grunting as he chases his own release. Not long after, Miguel is cumming inside your pussy, spurting hot loads of his cum so deep you can feel it in your womb. The moans he lets out sound so raw and desperate, you feel like you’re watching a whole other person.
He sighs in satisfaction, pressing a kiss on your forehead before laying down besides you. He pulls you into his body, his cock twitching as he keeps it nestled deep inside your cunt.
“Fuck… I don’t think I’ve ever come this much…” Miguel lets out a breathy laugh and you look at him in awe. The afterglow of your session makes him look so… ethereal. You blush and involuntarily clench your pussy around his cock.
Miguel chuckles. “I felt that, preciosa~”
You roll your eyes and look away from him, flustered. “Then take it out!”
“Mmm… why should I~? I very much prefer having you close like this.” Miguel inhales in your scent and presses a tender kiss on your neck. The action flusters you further, making you blush at his sweetness and his opposing teasing.
“Te amo, mi vida…” (I love you, my life..) He whispers softly as he closes his eyes, bringing you closer into his embrace.
You smile softly and close your eyes as well, slowly dozing off. Not before you utter the same words back, “Te amo, Miguelito~”
.
.
.
.
A/N: A little fun fact: this fic was originally written in Spanish first because I wanted to practice writing (specifically smut) in my native language. I might end up posting both languages on AO3.
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aajjks · 7 months
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FUCK! (III)
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synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.
pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader
genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.
warnings. mâtürè thèmês, jèälöüs koo, dïrty thöughts, ëxplïcït jökès, yn ïs ä säd gïrlïe, sünshïnê koo, #nô fïltèr kôôk, hörny kóó, hè ïs öbsëssèd wïth yöur tïts.
disclaimer. this is purely fictional and this doesn’t represent bts’ jungkook irl. mature themes 18+ content ahead. mdni. ps. this jungkook thinks w his dick 👍
series masterlist.
note. hi, share feedback plz, send asks because they keep me really motivated <333 ENJOY! And I’m so sorry that I’m so late with the update. I hope you haven’t forgotten about the story and if you have, please reread because I know you’re going to enjoy this. Thank you so much.
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Honestly, you’re really strong.
You’ve been having a lot of bad dates and stupid, awkward encounters with your ex, Kyungsoo.
But thankfully, who is there for you? Your dear Jungkook. Your roommate who has been with you for quite some time now and it’s safe to say that you’ve gotten a lot of used to his presence, and his stupid jokes.
It’s a new day and you feel a little less depressed as compared to the last week, the sun is out and you feel really hot— literally because the weather is getting warmer and warmer.
Jungkook is sitting on the couch watching football, he’s kind of obsessed with it and he’s always screaming at the screen like a maniac, “WHAT THE FUCK?!!?! YN DID YOU SEE THIS?”
Your ears hurt.
He’s probably talking about some goal that you’re not interested in, How can you be when you’re actually really concerned about your love life these days, you and kyungsoo broke up up quite some time ago and you’ve been struggling with dating.
You’re definitely over him, so what is the problem? You don’t know when that’s frustrating you.
“shut up- you’re too loud.” You snap, closing your eyes and frustration because it’s way too early in the morning, you are definitely a night owl, and he’s quite literally sunshine.
Jungkook eyes are focused on you now, “Woah you need to get laid- I’m volunteering if you care.” His stupid remark has you glaring at him and he just laughs it off, he winks at you in return. And just after that he has started to shamelessly stare at your chest.
He’s not wrong- you do need to get laid.
And Yeah, you’re wearing a top so what? It’s really hot.
“you’re so hot.” Jungkook breathes out. You can see his eyes, and his pupils are quite bright. He’s got pretty eyes. He’s really pretty. Not that you would say that to his face because he will eat your brain that you complimented him and that you want to fuck him.
You don’t.
Well, you’re not sure.
“I know tell me something I don’t know, and stop staring at my tits- they don’t talk.” You scold him, but his gaze just doesn’t budge, you’re so used to him that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.
You just roll your eyes at him. “Bet I can make them..” Your gaze hardens and you pick up a pillow from your couch and hit him with it.
He’s so shameless.
Jungkook pretends to be hurt, whining that you hit him hard. What a manchild, “quit it Jeon.” You warn him and he smirks. “And if I don’t? You’re going to punish me?! Please do.” He begs.
You scoff in disgust, but just then you get an idea- you’re going to mess with him. It’s your turn to smirk as you look at him in the eyes once again. “you’re walking on thin ice and you say that you want me to give you a chance, but… not sure if I should because you are a creep.” You shrug and it’s so satisfying the way his expressions change from smug to anxious.
You got him.
VICTORY.
“what are you talking about? I’m not a creep. And I…I please give me one chance all right I’ll stop my remarks.” he is struggling like an idiot. It’s is really nice to be in control.
“respectfully you just have nice breasts.” he shrugs, but you can tell he’s still panicking about what you just said. He ain’t wrong though you got nice breasts but it’s not nice to stare at them.
“Shut up- THIN ICE.”
You warn him, and he puts a finger on his mouth- his doe eyes are literally so panicky, “ugh I have work..” you whine- and Jungkook has started to focus on the game once again, “hey?! You have work too!!!? get up!”
“Yeah no. I won’t get scolded if I’m a little late because my boss kind of likes me.” He laughs.
What a fuckboy.
“you fuck your boss?!!” You know that’s not what he said or implied but you’re so curious, “uh no? Yn you’re mean!” he looks back at you acting so offended.
“whatever— before I go and change? I think you can take me out on a date I’m giving you a chance.”
You get up before he can even give you a reaction because you know he’s gonna freak out and your prediction is confirmed when you can hear him screaming like an idiot.
You smile as you go back to your room to get ready for work, it wouldn’t be a mistake to give him a chance because he obviously likes you and— he’s been asking you out forever, so why not?
But you’re not sure if you are gonna work out as a couple because he’s too much sometimes, But you’re still going to give him one chance to prove himself.
“YN I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH. OH MY GOD YOU’RE NOT GONNA BE DISAPPOINTED. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. I WILL TEXT YOU ALL THE DETAILS.”
You giggle as you shut the door behind you.
Sure.
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He’s still having those wet dreams about you, it’s a struggle for him and he’s concerned because he’s never felt this way for anyone, and it’s just not the wet dreams.
His feelings for you are the main problem.
He annoys the fuck out of you and your both sitting in the couch, he’s pretending to watch football, but it’s hard for him to focus when you’re right next to him smelling like a goddess, and that top of yours?
It’s torture.
Jungkook gets distracted for a minute when his favorite team scores a goal and he screams, he knows that you get annoyed with him and he does that but it’s so fun to get these reactions out of you.
He loves it when you tell him to shut up. And yeah it’s not your fault that you’re so hot because it’s really warm, you just have to make everything look so good.
He looks at you for a minute, and then his gaze just automatically goes to your chest.
You are quite magnificent.
“You’re so hot.” he can’t help but compliment you when you just shrugged and say that you know.
Your confidence is so hot, Jungkook tries his best to be subtle with his lust and attraction towards you, but sometimes it’s just impossible for his tongue to not slip.
He says some things that get you angry.
You hit him with a couch pillow, and he Reacts dramatically, he was just kidding about that one joke. “Ugh.” He whines.
And just like that you guys banter for a while, that isn’t until he fucks it up a little bit more, and you warn him
No, he cannot lose his chance with you.
“I…I please give me one chance. All right, I’ll stop with my remarks.” He is so stupid. Why can’t he keep his hormones and tongue in check?
He doesn’t want you to think that it’s only because he’s physically attracted to you, it’s more than that, yeah, he dreams about fucking you but he also dreams about being with you forever.
That’s how much he likes you.
So please just give him one chance— he thinks to himself when you bring up work and he knows that yeah he has to go to work, but his boss is quite lenient and the pay is really good.
He is watching the game once again when you accuse him of fucking his boss, he does not do that— Jungkook feels a little bad, because that’s all you think of him?
“uh no I don’t- Yn you’re mean!” he looks at you and this time your breasts don’t distract him, he wants you to think of him as a man that is of commitment, but he has a lot to prove.
He has really fucked up his chances—? He feels his heart break as negative thoughts consume him, and he cannot even log into your eyes anymore.
You get up, probably get ready for work because you take everything in your life or seriously and you’re Punctual.
You’re so perfect for him
But maybe it looks like he’s not perfect for you. And that sucks, Should he just give up on you? He’s not sure.
“whatever— before I go and change? I think you can take me out on a date I’m giving you a chance.”
Did he just hear you right? Did you really just say you don’t give him a chance? And then he can take you out on a date
He tilts his head so fast, absolutely freaked out, his eyes are white, and his mouth is agape,
He’s not being delusional right now, is he?
“Y-Yn what did you just say?
He stutters out because he really cannot believe what you just said right now, have you hit your head or something because he’s asked you the same question for the past year but you have denied him, so why the sudden change?
He feels so happy right now- jungkook gets up from the couch and goes after you, but before he can catch you, so we can confirm what he just heard you giggle.
“YN I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH. OH MY GOD YOU’RE NOT GONNA BE DISAPPOINTED. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. I WILL TEXT YOU ALL THE DETAILS.” Before you can actually shut the door he says it out loud.
and you shut the door behind you.
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erideights · 1 year
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Little pieces here and there (3)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, two, four, five
Word Count: around 2K again.
Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times
A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)
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Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.
Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.
Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.
That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.
(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.
Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.
Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.
Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?
Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.
After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.
At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.
"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."
Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.
"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.
"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."
"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.
"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.
"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.
"Take a guess"
"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"
The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.
His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."
She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.
He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.
"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."
By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.
At least until they reach Arlong Park.
Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.
Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.
A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.
She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.
Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.
The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.
Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.
Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.
It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--
And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.
"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.
‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’
And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.
Bastard.
''You better'', she whispers to herself.
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monzamash · 6 months
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to be loved — carlos sainz
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carlos sainz x you — “i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.” requested by @dancininseptember masterlist
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The short stroll from your office to the apartment never really bothered you. In fact, you typically enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to enjoy the city you loved. But it was early February; rain was threatening the Spanish skies and the frost bitten breeze stung your already tear-filled eyes. It was a crappy end to an even shittier week, your energy wasted on people who didn’t deserve it.
You practically flung yourself through the door of the apartment and shed all remnants of the day – coat, beanie and scarf, all strewn haphazardly, and in that order, on the floor of your small entryway. It took every ounce of energy you had to kick off your heavy boots, each one hitting the wall much harder than you intended. Maybe it was an unconscious way for you to let out frustration, the scuff marks on the white wall a stark reminder of your last straw.
The smell of fresh bread and bolognese sauce hit you as you slunk down the hallway, your tummy grumbling on instinct. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, a terrible habit you had fallen into lately and Carlos had noticed. He was home more during the cooler months, easily picking up on your little habits that both endeared and worried him. So he made sure, while he was close to you, that you came home to a warm meal every night – because looking after you was his calling in life.
“That smells incredible.”
Carlos briefly glanced over his shoulder and gave you a bright smile before turning down the stove and grabbing a washcloth to clean his hands. You loved him like this; soft and relaxed, in his element. The kitchen was his playground and you remember the sigh of relief that left your lungs when he told you he loved to cook on your first date, because you weren’t particularly gifted when it came to the pots and pans.
“Hope you’re hungry,” He sang, circling the island in the middle of the kitchen to say a proper hello to his beautiful girlfriend, “How was your day?”
A rigid sigh fell from your lips as you fell into his arms, the loving embrace triggering tears to spring to your eyes for the third time today. Carlos held you tight and brushed his hands down your back, comforting you through the sobs wracking your aching body.
“Ay, mi amor,” He soothed, “Breathe for me please.”
Carlos guided you through a couple of deep breaths, chests rising and falling together in synchronicity until your sobs subsided, air finally filling your lungs again. A tight squeeze around your waist brought you back to the man holding you in his arms, worried eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay as you pulled back and gave him a soft smile.
“I’m okay, I’m sorry.” You sniffled, head shaking.
Carlos tutted as he thumbed away the trail of tears from your face, “Do not say sorry, my love. Talk to me…”
Anger replaced sadness as you told him about how your sister had completely disregarded your feelings for the millionth time, accusing you of only caring about yourself while she’s all alone and stressed about wedding planning. Carlos has managed to get you to sit up on the counter beside him while he finished dinner, but not before pouring you a glass of red wine to nurse while you purged all the negativity from your day.
“She called me a bitch and then uninvited us from the wedding, which by the way I didn’t want to go too to begin with,” You huffed, hands animatedly flying around while he tried to keep up with the drama.
“And all I said to her was that work has been stressful and that us trying for a baby hadn’t been… fruitful, I guess. She flipped out when I said that because her dickhead fiancé doesn’t want kids and she thinks she can change his mind…”
You took a sip of wine and noticed Carlos' eyes rolling like they always did when the topic of your sister came up. He was as sick of her shit as you were, unapologetically scoffing at her selfishness. Making you feel bad when all you needed was someone to confide in was one thing, but lashing out on you was something he couldn’t stand by and watch. He knew he couldn’t do anything right now; maybe he would make a stern phone call tomorrow once the dust had settled.
So instead of getting upset, he put down the wooden spoon coated in the most delicious sauce you had ever tasted and nestled himself between your swinging legs. His warm chocolate eyes stared into your soul as he planted his palms on your thighs, tethering himself to you.
“You know I can take care of you, mi vida,” He said, voice deep and barely above a whisper, “No matter the problem, you won't need anyone but me, I promise.” 
For the first time in weeks, you felt your heart slow down and return to a normal rhythm as Carlos pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You softly moaned in unison and gripped the grey shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders, pulling him in closer – not that he had any plan on going anywhere.
No, all he wanted was for his girl to feel heard and to be loved because all he needed was you.
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a/n — loved writing carlos again. inbox detox is still open !!
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6ix9inewiturmom · 5 months
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The Scare- Chris Sturniolo
Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston
Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test
A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY
PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!
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Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.
After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.
“Shit,” I say to my self.
Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.
I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’
“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.
I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?
After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.
I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.
“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs
I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.
“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.
“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.
“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.
“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.
“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.
“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.
Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.
“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.
“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.
“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.
“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.
“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.
“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.
“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.
“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.
“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions
“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.
“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.
“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.
I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.
"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.
As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.
“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.
“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.
The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.
“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.
Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.
“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.
“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.
“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.
Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.
“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.
“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.
Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.
“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.
“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.
“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.
“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.
“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.
As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.
“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.
“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.
The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.
“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.
“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.
“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.
With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.
‘Not Pregnant’
“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.
He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.
“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.
“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.
“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.
“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.
“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.
“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.
“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!
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3rachasdomesticbanana · 2 months
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Side Effects II | Bang Chan
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• Synopsis: Y/N is dealing with unspoken feelings for Jisung, who suddenly becomes distant while dealing with his own feelings and guilt. Chan, who's stuck in the middle, tries to comfort Y/N while secretly struggling with the side effects of their invisibility elixir. Every night things get harder for both Y/N and Chan.
Can Chan fight through the side effects like he thinks he can?
• Pairing: science nerd Chan x Female Reader
• Content Includes: smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (m)
an: as always I'm sure there's something I forgot to add in the "Contents Includes" so if you feel like something should be mentioned please kindly let me know♡
Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌
Part I
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It's been a few months since you thought that your and Jisung's apartment was haunted. The random items moving and the dreams just suddenly stopped, and life slowly returned to something resembling normal. You wouldn't quite call it normal though because Jisung has been acting stranger than usual. He avoids you in the mornings and even more so at night. The behavior eats at you, leaving a heavy, sad feeling in your chest. You had hoped the situation would resolve itself and he'd come around but when Jisung practically runs away as you enter the kitchen, it's the last straw.
"Han Jisung! Don't you move another inch without telling me what's going on. Why are you avoiding me?" you demand, staring at his broad, lean back. Even through his lab coat or hoodies, his muscular build is apparent.
"I- I'm not avoiding you, Y/N. Just... uh... busy." he stammers, his voice trembling slightly.
"Yeah? Then why won't you turn around and look at me?" you challenge, frustration seeping into your tone.
You half-expect him to ignore you but when he turns around, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. His eyes are half-lidded, his cheeks red and he nervously chews on his bottom lip. The water bottle in his hand shakes as he squeezes the clear plastic. What is going on with him?
"Sungie... tell me what's wrong," you whisper, stepping closer.
He visibly gulps and shakes his head. When you're right in front of him, you reach out and brush some hair out of his eyes. His hair has grown so long lately and you wonder if he'll keep it that way. Secretly, you love the length on him. Lost in your thoughts about his hair, you fail to notice the hungry, crazed look in Jisung's eyes or how erratic his breathing has become as his gaze burns into you. You're only pulled out of your daydream when the bottle slips from his hands.
You look away from his hair, "Ji, you-"
Your words are cut short when he grabs your shoulders tightly, backing you up further into the kitchen until your back hits the counter beside the fridge. It's not painful but you whimper in surprise and confusion. Jisung closes his eyes, squeezing them shut with all his might like he's in pain.
"Are you hurt, Ji? What is it? Talk to me." you plead, trying to lift your hands to reach out to him.
He tightens his grip on your arms, keeping you from moving. He looks like he's struggling and with him holding you still, there's nothing you can do, especially since he won't talk. You open your mouth and take a deep breath, ready to call for help, hoping Chan is in the next room. Jisung's left hand quickly covers your mouth.
"Don't scream until I say you can." he orders, his voice dark and sending chills all over your body. "Trust me, you'll be screaming plenty, sweetie. I know that when you've got your fingers inside that sweet cunt of yours, you call out my name."
Your eyes widen, and you mumble behind Jisung's hot hand. He smirks, tilting his head to the side while his eyes search your face. He's not wrong but you've never seen this side of him. Hearing him talk about you fingering yourself to the thought of him makes you wet and you shift your footing. Jisung laughs and leans closer to your ear.
"See, you're wet right now and I haven't even done anything yet. When I'm done with you, you'll be rendered to a liquid. Maybe I'll keep you on my desk in one of my beakers and fuck you every night." he murmurs, biting down hard on your neck and sucking, making you cry out and moan. The sound escapes his palm and he rubs the bulge in his sweats against you. "This is what you wanted, wasn't it? I tried to keep away from you..."
He spins you around suddenly and you gasp, your palms and breasts are pushed onto the cold surface of the counter. You feel Jisung push your shorts down, the cold air hitting your hot skin makes you shiver just as Jisung thrusts up, impaling you with his cock. He's rough, brutal, and quick. Each time he rams into you, your stomach pushes into the edge of the counter, making each of your gasps sound like a breathy, short grunt.
"Does my cock feel as good as you imagined, y/n?" Jisung asks through gritted teeth, grabbing your hair at the nape and snapping his hips up and into you.
You groan loudly in response, eyes rolling back as your orgasm quickly builds. Your moans and breathing grow louder when he starts to fuck you faster. The kitchen fades away from your view and all your senses are consumed by Jisung.
"That's it, baby, scream for me. Scream for Jisung." he growls.
Your body tenses, and your panting sounds like that of a rabid, wounded animal that turns into full blown screaming as you quickly descend into bliss, crying out his name. Your body shakes, knees threatening to buckle and collapse until you wake up with a jolt, gasping and sitting up, dripping with sweat in the darkness of your bedroom.
You hear faint music coming from Jisung's room and sigh. Dreams of Jisung have been so constant lately. Not like the realistic dreams you had before, but those simple fantasies where he's fucking you until you can't stand. With another sigh, you get up and disappear into your bathroom for a cold shower.
Chan takes the opportunity to slip out of your room and carefully shut your door. His heart pounds in his chest, and he closes his eyes, focusing on calming his breathing. He lost track of how long he was under the elixir's effects and that was the whole point of this test. It's not the fact that he failed to keep a mental record that has him stressing right now though.
“Fuck, fuck…” he whispers, removing his glasses and scrubbing a hand down his face.
He can't understand why watching you sleep just now suddenly had him feeling so aroused. After weeks of watching you and studying what you could hear or notice while he was invisible, he never once felt turned on. He was always so fully focused on his study. He sat down in your chair, placed in the corner of your room by the window, and watched you toss and turn in your sleep. The way your facial expressions changed lightly and the soft, almost inaudible sounds you made fascinated him.
“Yeah, it's fascinating, that's all.” Chan mutters in the hall, hearing the water from the shower inside your room.
The happy twitch of his cock begs to differ from what he is trying to convince himself of. He shakes his head as if he can shake out the thoughts of you that try to formalize in his mind's eye. He needs to think about anything other than watching you cum in your sleep. But the more Chan tries to think of something else, the harder he feels his cock get. He pushes up from your door, about to plunge his face into some cold water in the kitchen when he hears a soft orgasmic moan past the sound of splattering water from the door behind him.
Before he can think, his hands are twisting the doorknob and cracking open your bedroom door. He gulps, knowing that if you walk into your bedroom, you'll see him since the elixir has already worn off, making him visible again. That fact is at the back of his mind, though and the only thing on his mind now is hearing the sounds of pleasure from the open door of your bathroom.
His hand slips inside of his black shorts, gripping the thick heaviness of his cock faster than he's ever been. There, half in your room and half out, Chan pumps his cock from inside his shorts. It feels incredible, different even, compared to the many times he's jerked off in the past. The sensation of pleasure feels like it's been heightened.
“Is this a… a side effect?” he whispers to himself and groans when he hears you let out a high-pitched gasp.
His hand slides up and down along his cock fast, the squelching noises coming from him covered up by the music in Jisung's room and the shower running. Precum seeps from the head of his cock, ruining his shorts with every stroke of his hand. He leans his forehead against the doorframe, closing his eyes and giving in completely to the feeling.
“Oh fuck y/n. Make yourself cum for Channie.” he thinks. He doesn't dare make a sound; he doesn't trust himself enough to be quiet if he were to open his mouth.
Still, even with his lips tightly shut, his breathing becomes louder, and he's lost all his control. Faster and faster, his hand moves, and the flapping sound of fabric joins in with the sounds of wet skin. He's trying to hold on, to see if he can cum at the same time as you, but he's too on edge, too needy, and far too desperate for release.
“Oh my gosh, oh fuck! I'm cumming. Fuck, shit.” His voice is just a tad louder than he meant, but he doesn't care. His orgasm is mind-altering, and it only intensifies when he hears your climax shortly after. The long, loud, shuddering exhale is enough confirmation for Chan. He wants to stay there, cock softening in his hand, for a few more minutes but getting caught with a large wet spot on the front of his shorts with his cock in hand wouldn't go over well with you, he thinks.
Your door clicks softly when Chan shuts it again. Before heading back to Jisung, he quickly gets some paper towels from the kitchen and cleans himself up as best as possible to not make Jisung suspicious. He's never confessed it to him, but Chan can see the way Jisung looks at you, like you're the lost city of Atlantis, and he's just discovered the beauty. He knows his buddy has a massive crush on you, so if Jisung knew that he just came to the sound of you, he'd be pissed. Chan couldn't help it, though; he knows that science can explain that he really couldn't control his body's reaction, but it couldn't excuse the way he felt compelled to jerk off to you.
“A side effect maybe? Can't be too sure, and we can't put it down as one without being one hundred percent positive.” he muses, tossing the crumpled-up paper towel into the trash and getting a bottle of water from the fridge.
You walk into the kitchen, hair wet and cheeks slightly rosy. Your face lights up, and you smile when you see Chan in the kitchen taking large gulps of water like he was dying of thirst.
“Oh! Hey, Channie. Needed a break, huh?” you ask brightly.
Chan sputters and stumbles over his words as he tells you that he and Jisung are indeed taking a break and how it's a really good break, just relaxing and doing regular break things. His words, not yours. You giggle and squeeze past him to get a bottle of water. Chan's eyes are glued to you, and thoughts of you moaning find their way back to him. His cock springs to life again with speed. He quickly bends over the counter, looking nonchalant when you stand up and turn around.
“Well, I hope the experiment isn't causing you two too much stress. You're looking a little pale, Channie,” you say, placing your palm on his brow. “No fever but you're a little clammy. Don't overdo it, boys.” You say and leave a very horny and nervous Chan alone in the kitchen.
The way you look after them is something Chan has always admired about you. Sure, you had a tendency to baby them a little bit but it was all out of the goodness of your heart. Your random acts of kindness always put a smile on his face. It never gave him a reaction like this, though. Not even fifteen minutes after cumming, he was hard again. At this rate, he's sure Jisung is getting suspicious of what's taking him so long. And just as he expected, when Chan walks into the room twenty minutes later after another orgasm in the kitchen, he's bombarded with questions.
“What the hell took so long? Did she catch you? Is our secret blown?” Jisung looks up at Chan from his computer chair, wide brown eyes full of curiosity and worry.
Chan shakes his head and flops down onto the air mattress that is his bed while he stays with Jisung. He's supposed to be making sure Jisung doesn't do anything and here he is, no better than his friend.
“I wasn't caught; she just caught me in the kitchen getting a drink. That stuff leaves the weirdest aftertaste, ugh.” He replies with a laugh, hoping that Jisung won't ask too many questions about you.
He doesn't need to get hard in front of his friend while he questions him about the girl he likes. To Chan's surprise, Jisung doesn't bring you up anymore other than that initial question. He does offer to mix some flavoring into the next batch before it comes down to doing more tests. The two work on things a little longer before calling it a night. That night, however, Chan's once peaceful, normal dreams are filled with you. Your face is clear as day, and the feeling of your tongue licking and gliding over his cock feels so real that he wakes up on the verge of cumming again. He shuffles into Jisung's bathroom and takes care of himself to the dream version of you that was on her knees in front of him.
Chan's dreams, desires, and arousal become more and more intense but you and Jisung remain unaware. You've got too much on your mind with how your roommate has been avoiding you like you've got the plague. You're so lost in every scenario and reasoning you come up with that you don't notice the way Chan watches you. You never catch him as he palms his stiff cock, desperate to ease the ache, all while you move around the apartment. He tries his hardest to not do the things that Jisung was doing when it comes to you while being invisible, but it's hard when he's in your room as you grind your hips and circle your clit with two fingers, moaning his best friend's name. It takes all his strength to not cum just from your sounds; it takes even more strength not to bury his face between your thighs and lap up your arousal after you cum.
All in all, Chan likes to think he's been good. He can fight the temptations that Ji gave in to, he's positive. Or so he thought. All day today, you unknowingly enticed him. Even the disappointment on your face when Jisung gave you a curt greeting had him twitching in his jeans. The loud sigh you let out when Jisung shut the door to his bedroom reminds Chan of the exact sound you make when you orgasm. He forces the thought away.
Not now, Chan, damn it. Can't you see she's upset?
“Don't worry about Ji, y/n, he's just stressed,” you hear Chan say.
Your eyes move from where they were fixated on the closed door and over to the curly-haired man with glasses. “Was it that obvious I was worried?” you ask, smiling weakly at him.
He shakes his head, ”Not at all, cutie, I just know you. You're always worrying about us.”
He pulls you in for a hug, and you feel his warmth melt away all your worries. You wrap your arms around his middle, relaxing in his embrace. The sweet vanilla and subtle cedar scent that is uniquely him surrounds you.
"Thanks, Channie," you say softly, sighing with contentment.
Just as quickly as the hug began, it’s over. He steps back, smiling shyly. The tops of his ears are a bright red, and he tugs on the lobe of his right ear, looking away from you.
“No worries. You know what they say—hugs make everything better, yeah?”
You nod and smile at him. He’s adorable when he gets flustered. He’s got to be the shyest extrovert you know. And he’s right—his hug did improve your mood a lot. Standing on your toes, you place a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek and thank him again before leaving the kitchen to change your clothes before you start cooking dinner.
Chan is frozen on the spot. Your lips felt so soft against his skin, and now his cock won't stop pulsating. He can still feel the ghost of your kiss pressing into the side of his face. “Fuck,” he grunts, gripping the counter, staring at the door to your room. His cock bounces wildly in the confines of his jeans and briefs. He hangs his head low, eyes closed, and tries to think of something else.
Ice cream. Yeah. Sweet, delicious, creamy… just like her pussy. Oh fuck, fuck. No!
The knuckles on both his hands turn white as he grips the edge of the counter harder. He tries to think of something else, but it fails too. His hips start moving, thrusting as if you drank the elixir and now you’re invisible, and he’s fucking you. That thought pushes him further into a place of desire he can't escape. Could I see my cock inside her if she drank it? he wonders. Could I watch my cum fill her up?
“Oh gosh, what I would do to see that. Shit,” he whispers, thrusting into the air faster. He knows that at any moment, you or Jisung could come into the kitchen, but he’s so close. “I'm so fucking close, y/n.”
The sound of a door opening makes Chan stop his crazed humping of the air. He sees you walking, eyes looking down as you put your hair into a high ponytail. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He imagines you getting ready to suck him off right there in the kitchen. His cock still bounces in his dark black jeans, the head pushing up into the cotton of his briefs, the friction feeling phenomenal. He can still feel his orgasm building, even as he stands completely still.
“Oh hey, Channie. Didn’t expect to see you still in the kitchen,” you say, walking past him.
The smell of strawberries and cream wafts past Chan, and his eyes close. He feels precum flowing out of his cock steadily now and he can't move. He tries to respond to you, but it comes out raspy and gravelly. He clears his throat and speaks again, trying to sound casual.
“Y-yeah, just giving Ji some time to himself,” he says behind you as you pull out all the ingredients you need to make dinner.
“That’s sweet of you,” you say, and Chan mumbles something that sounds like “Mhm” to you.
Honestly, he tried to say something else to keep the conversation going, but he couldn't stop the moan that made its way out. He mentally curses himself and looks over his shoulder. You’re focused on washing some veggies, the sound of the water hiding his soft, stifled breathing.
“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, her voice. Need to hear her. Need to feel her touching me.” He thinks.
He jumps when he feels a hand on his back. He doesn’t dare look at you. “Whoa, you okay? You’re shaking, Channie, and you’re really red,” worry fills your voice as you rub wide circles on his back.
“Mhm, headache,” he huffs.
Keep going, y/n. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.
“Do you need anything?” you ask, and he shakes his head slowly.
His cock is bouncing out of control now, and he hunches over, burying his face in his arm.
“Fuck,” he gasps, feeling you move closer to him. Your warmth and sweet scent send him spiraling, and he digs his nails into his arm.
“Chan?” you whisper, and he immediately spills his seed inside his jeans, like you calling his name flipped a switch. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even move or open his eyes; he just stays still, waiting for the aftershocks to subside.
“I’m fine, y/n.” He says finally. “Shit, thank you. I feel a lot better,” he sighs, standing up straight. He’s panting softly and smiling down at you. “I’m sorry if I worried you. Guess I’ve inhaled too many fumes in Ji’s room.” He chuckles, and you give him a relieved smile.
“I’ve got to remember to get you two some face masks or something. You had me worried, sir.” you roll your eyes, smiling, and turn around to start chopping up the vegetables on the cutting board. “You take it easy okay? I’ll let you two know when I’m done… Even if Sungie is ignoring me,” you mutter the last part under your breath bitterly.
You feel Chan’s hand on your shoulder. It’s warm, strong, and comforting, blocking out any negative thoughts. His chest is close to your back, and you stop the meticulous chopping. Very slowly, you feel him bend down and place a soft, gentle kiss on the top of your head.
“He’ll come around. Thanks again, y/n.” Chan says and leaves you to your chopping.
He wanted to stay, to watch you move around the kitchen, but he needed to clean up and get to work. Back in Jisung's room, with fresh clothes and a clearer head, he works on the test beakers full of the elixir. Each container contains a diluted version of the elixir, and they’ve been testing its reaction with different chemicals to prolong the effects. So far, all six beakers show no changes, and they still haven’t noticed any significant side effects caused by the elixir, only the ones they refuse to acknowledge.
An hour passes, and both men are drowning in notes and textbooks when they hear a soft tap on the door and your calm, melodic voice letting them know that the food is done. Typically, they’ll grab some food and scurry back into the bedroom to eat and brainstorm, but as you sit on the barstool on the other side of the kitchen island, you hear them in some hushed conversation. When you look up from your phone, you catch Jisung’s eyes on you, and he quickly looks away. Ignoring them both, you continue to eat and text your friend.
You: Can’t wait for you to finally move closer. These guys are cool but with Ji avoiding me, the place feels heavy.
Bestie: Don’t worry. I’ll be there before you know it. Just try not to get into any weird situations.
You: This is me we’re talking about…
Bestie: Girl, exactly! Lol, stay out of trouble!
You: Lmao aye aye, captain 🫰
You’re laughing softly and smiling at your phone when you feel someone slide into the stool next to you. When you look to your left, you’re surprised to see Jisung sitting beside you. His eyes are glued to his plate of food, and he doesn’t look up in your direction. You catch sight of Chan smiling on Jisung’s other side, and you make a mental note to thank him later. Ji still hasn’t said anything to you for whatever strange reason but you’re thankful to Chan that he’s trying to help. You clear your throat and look at Jisung again. His hair is messy and long; you’re usually the one to give him the occasional trim, so now it’s all over the place.
“Um, Ji, do you want me to cut your hair later? It’s a bit longer than you wear it,” you say, trying to sound upbeat. You reach out and touch his hair just below his ear, and he shoots up out of his chair like he’s been electrocuted.
“No!” he shouts, going to stand on the other side of Chan. “I mean… no.” he softens his tone. “I-it’s okay, y/n. Just please don’t touch me.” and he leaves the room.
“Channie… what did I do?” you sniffle and swallow hard, fighting back tears.
This feeling is exactly what you wanted to avoid by having feelings for him. If things are like this now and you have no idea what you’ve done wrong, then how would it be if you two dated? Maybe he can tell I like him, and he doesn’t like me back? You think to yourself as you stare at Jisung’s closed door. Loud music blares from inside, mimicking the chaos in your mind. Chan gets up from his seat to sit beside you.
“You haven’t done anything, y/n. Ji… is dealing with a lot right now,” he tells you, his eyes soft.
He wants to reach out and touch you, to pull you into his arms again, but he fights the urge. It’s a lot easier now than it was a few hours ago. Still, the sight of you on the verge of tears makes him want to hold you and never let you go. Just being a good friend, yeah? Yeah, yeah, of course. He argues with himself internally, but he doesn’t move. He doesn't fully trust himself after what happened in the kitchen earlier.
“Maybe I could help him, ya know? I mean, if he just talked to me like he used to, I'm sure I could be of some help.” Your voice pulls Chan out of his own thoughts and back to the present.
“Maybe just give him some time and space. It'll all blow over soon, Y/N.” He assures you, picking up his and Jisung's plates before retreating into the loud room.
Tension hangs thick in the apartment, and if it weren't for Chan, you'd feel incredibly alone. He spends more time with you lately than he does with Jisung, and you assume it's because he's giving him space, exactly like he told you to do. But that's not entirely Chan's true motive. After his reaction at dinner, Jisung swears that you're the cause of whatever he felt when he drank the liquid, and Chan is determined to prove or disprove that theory.
“I haven't done anything to her while she's slept the entire two weeks, bro. Maybe you took some over-the-counter stuff that you forgot about and it reacted to that.” Chan whispers in the kitchen.
Jisung looks at you while you sit on the couch with your headphones on, gaming. You know the two of them are there; you even know that Jisung is watching you, but you focus on the game. Well, focus might be a loose term; you keep dying each time you try to see Jisung out of your peripheral vision.
“You mean you don't feel anything when you're near her after drinking that stuff?” Jisung asks, his whisper rising in pitch. Chan shakes his head no, but he knows that's not true. He just feels too guilty to tell his friend. “Okay, then it'll be safe to up your dose tonight. Y/N has to work tomorrow, so she'll be asleep early.”
“Uh, yeah. No problem.”
That night, you say goodnight to Chan and retreat into your bedroom as he does the same, disappearing inside Jisung's room. He swallows double the amount of the pastel teal liquid and makes his way into your room while you’re in the shower. He makes himself comfortable in the same chair as always, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Why the fuck do we have to do these specific tests? Damn it, can't we just go back to scaring her? He thinks, chewing on his thumbnail.
While Chan struggles with his nerves, you step out of the bathroom humming softly. If this were an anime, he'd have a bloody nose right about now. Sure, he's heard you orgasm, but this is the first time he's seen you completely naked. He gulps silently and looks away as you sit on the edge of your bed in front of him. His eyes fixate on the thin slit of the black curtain as he hears you rummaging through your desk. He doesn't look at you until your foot comes between his legs, just missing his cock.
Chan's wide, shocked eyes travel from your foot, slowly making their way up your leg and to the exposed apex of your thighs. You start to rub lotion over your skin. The sweet coffee smell fills the room, making Chan feel lightheaded—or is it because he's been holding his breath the whole time, watching your hands glide over your body? Cock hard, he feels like a snake in a trance, and you, the skilled charmer, continue to hypnotize him. He feels something inside him shift, crack, and crumble. Is it his common sense? His composure? His self-control? There's nothing on his mind other than pure lust and desire.
Before you can put on your blue silk short pajama set, Chan is moving. You hear a thud and gasp, jumping back onto the center of your bed. The bed dips and before you can make another sound, strong, warm hands spread your legs wide as you feel the heat and wet sensation of a tongue pushing inside you.
You fall back into the mattress as pleasure washes over you. “Oh my god,” you whisper. The first touch of his tongue sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you cry out softly.
He licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you breathless. You’re writhing, your hands clutching at your pillows and bedsheets, your hips arching off the bed as you chase the pleasure that's quickly building inside of you. You can feel his breath against your inner thigh, and it makes you shiver. The sensation is almost too much, too unexpected.
Were your hallucinations back because you were so stressed about Jisung? The thought comes and goes. Every touch, every lick, every suck is precise, calculated to drive you wild and your legs begin to shake. You can hear the soft sounds of his mouth working against you, the quiet male hum of pleasure that escapes his throat. His tongue slides over your clit just as you feel two fingers push inside you and your hips buck against him. He holds you down, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he devours you. The pleasure builds and builds until you feel like you're going to explode.
You cover your mouth with your hands to muffle the string of cries and moans as you cum, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He continues to lick you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure making your body shake from the aftershocks. When you finally come down from the high, you're left panting and trembling, your body spent and your room… empty.
“It's back,” you whisper breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.
Chan is on the floor at the foot of your bed with cum-soaked shorts and guilt and fear forming in his chest. His chest heaves as he stares at you too stunned by his actions to move. He knows he has to tell Jisung, knows that he had no control and that it was like he was possessed.
Fuck. Jisung is gonna fucking kill me.
But when he gets back to the room, he can't bring himself to tell his friend anything. Not about the feelings he had, the physical and mental changes, and definitely not about eating you out until you came on his tongue. He can still taste you, and it makes him both guilt-ridden and horny as hell.
The taste of you that one time has him feeling like a madman. He's been practically salivating to taste you again ever since. Chan starts to understand Jisung's addiction to the elixir because being in close proximity to you has him wanting to say, “Fuck everything,” and drive his cock deep inside your juicy sweetness every time he's invisible.
His palms are sweaty as he watches you from the barstool in the kitchen, two days later. Your hair is damp after your shower after work, and the long black tee you have on paired with short black shorts makes it look like you're bare from the waist down. How dare you look that enticing in one of his favorite colors? Though the shirt hides your curves, he’s memorized them already. He slips his tongue between his lips and wets them, thinking about his tongue traveling all over your body. There's not an inch of your body that he doesn't want his tongue to explore.
“Did you hear me, Chan?” you say, leaning over the island, getting closer to his face. His eyes look distant and glassy, like he’s had way too many bong hits.
“Um, no? Sorry, beautiful. I spaced out there for a minute. What were you saying?” He blinks a few times and smiles, flashing his dimples.
You stand up and mirror his blinking. “Did he just call me beautiful?” you ask yourself. Chan's never given you a nickname like that. You're usually Minion or, more heartfelt, Cutie. You brush it off, deciding not to read into it and repeat your question.
“I want to know if you wanted some ramen, spaceman,” you say with a laugh, and Chan's cock springs to life at the sound.
“Oh, my bad. No thanks, y/n, I gotta get back to the experiment. You know if I leave Ji alone for too long, he'll blow his room up.” He replies, making you laugh again, which only makes his cock harder.
Fuck, not again. Really don't wanna cum in my pants again. I don't remember Jisung mentioning anything about that. Did that not happen to him? Chan wonders if it's just him. And if so, does that mean that the side effects are different for each person that takes it?
He gets up and tries to hide the obvious large bulge in his pants but with the way your eyes widen, he knows that you noticed. It turns him on even more, especially seeing the soft pink form on your cheeks. He suddenly turns towards you, standing there so you can get a better look.
“Thank you for looking out for us, y/n. Jisung's lucky to have you as his roommate.” He winks, watching the blush deepen, which is exactly what he wanted. You look so soft, so innocent and beautiful, at the moment he could care less about the experiment. More than anything he'd like to watch you come undone by his hands. When he's satisfied in watching you blush, he turns and makes his way to Jisung's room.
You're flustered and stunned, with your bowl of ramen on the counter getting cold. Between the sudden nickname and that sight, you're feeling confused and a bit too hot for ramen. How could he not know? Guess that's a good thing, I don't want him feeling embarrassed for something he can't control. You tell yourself. If you only knew that embarrassment was the last thing Chan was feeling.
Gosh, I'd love to see her blush with my cock in her mouth. “What? No, no… No.” Chan mutters to himself before turning the knob to his friend's bedroom.
That night, Chan would have to drink the liquid, become invisible, and watch you. He really needed to have his head on straight. When he opens the door, he wishes he had stayed in the kitchen with you just a little longer. Jisung is lying back flat on his bed, pants around his ankles and shirt pushed up, exposing his chest as he thrusts up into the air, fucking his fist.
“What the hell, man?!” Chan shouts, looking away as Jisung scrambles to cover up.
The sudden noise snaps you out of your thoughts. When you look around the corner, you see Chan standing half in and half out of Jisung's doorway.
“Shit, fuck, fuck. I thought you'd be longer,” Jisung blurts out, his voice frantic.
“Why couldn't you do that in the bathroom like a normal person, bro?” Chan hisses in a loud whisper, trying to keep his voice down but failing.
“You saw what she's got on—I couldn't help myself. I don't know how you can.” Jisung murmurs, but his voice is so soft that you can barely catch the words.
“Everything okay, Chan?” you ask, stepping closer, your voice startling him. He looks at you, wide-eyed, and you hear Jisung mutter another curse from behind the door.
“Huh?! Y-yeah, y/n. No worries. All's good here. Just, um, um, Ji killed a spider.” Chan glances back at Jisung. “I would've taken it outside, bro. Should've known.” He adds, and you hear Jisung's muffled apology.
“Oh. Ew, okay. Glad you two are good.” You nod, turning away.
As you walk off, the two men let out a collective sigh of relief. Jisung was right, Chan silently agrees. The outfit you had on was far too tantalizing to ignore. Both he and Jisung knew they wouldn't get any work done while being so worked up over you. In fact the little scare you gave them, almost catching a glimpse of the room did them some good. It was a good thing you didn't know what they were up to, for both his and Ji’s sake. You would've put two and two together and figured out everything.
“Especially not before I can feel you,” he thinks, frustration simmering beneath his skin. “No. Absolutely not. Why… Why am I even thinking like that? It's got to be a side effect, right?” Chan questions himself internally, all while Jisung briefs him on what needs to be done. He knows he should bring up how he's been feeling lately, especially how he feels each time he swallows that mysterious liquid on Jisung's desk, but guilt stops him each time.
“All right, let's wait a bit before you take it. We'll up the dose times… four?” Jisung suggests, and Chan just nods. “Cool. I made sure to add some flavoring to it. Should taste like strawberries. I'm curious if it'll change anything, so keep an eye out.”
Jisung's rambling continues, but Chan's thoughts aren't in the room. They're on you. He can still smell your perfume, still taste your lingering sweetness even after so many hours. It should be impossible, but the memory of your scent and taste clings to him. Visions of you cumming in various positions blur Chan’s focus, the images so vivid it's as if they're real. It's only when Jisung throws a rubber glove at the back of his head that he snaps out of his trance.
Okay. I can do this. I can fight it. It's nothing. This is... Nothing. Hmpf, so easy.
He chants the words over and over in his mind as he swallows the elixir. The familiar warm sensation begins, spreading through his body like wildfire. It feels as if all his limbs have fallen asleep, a tingling starting at his toes and working its way up to the top of his head. When the sensation peaks, it’s like being submerged in warm water, and he knows that he's now completely unseen.
As quietly as possible, he leaves Jisung's room and tiptoes into the living room where you're currently sitting. Behind the door, he can hear Jisung begin a recording of the two of them talking, giving the illusion that they're still hard at work. The TV illuminates your features in the dim light. The color of your eyes and hair seem to glow, making you look like some ethereal goddess.
"So beautiful," Chan thinks as he walks closer to you. Closer and closer until he's beside the dark gray couch. He shouldn't be so close, but it feels like his feet won't stop. For a while, he just stands there watching you, the stress and worry etched on your face deepening.
You sit on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The noise from Jisung’s room filters through the thin walls of the apartment. The tension between you two gnaws at your insides, leaving you restless and on edge even more than before. What did I do wrong? You can’t help but replay the last few weeks in your head again, especially those strange moments when you felt like someone was there, touching you, making you question your sanity. Maybe he really is fed up with all your crazy ideas about the apartment being haunted. It's why you didn't mention what you felt in your room the other night. You didn't want Chan to start avoiding you too.
“I got on his nerves so much, now he wants nothing to do with me,” you whisper to yourself, glancing over your shoulder before looking back at the forgotten anime.
You stretch out, trying to shake off the unease and sigh. Your fingers absently trace the fabric of the couch, the worn material soft and familiar under your touch. You can hear the faint sounds of Jisung and Chan discussing some scientific and complex theories, but you’re too lost in your thoughts to pay much attention. Suddenly, the room feels different—like someone just invaded your space. Like they're right in front of your face. You look around, but nothing seems out of place.
Then, you feel it. A gentle touch on your shoulder, fingers grazing your skin. You freeze, your breath catching. The sensation is familiar yet different. It’s like the past few weeks all over again but this time, it feels... more. You don't know how to explain it but it's like it consumes you. The couch dips between your legs. The air grows warmer, and you feel a presence, an invisible weight pressing against you. Your heart pounds, but you don't move. It doesn't stop, instead, it intensifies, a whisper of a touch ghosting along your arm, sending shivers down your spine.
"Is it really happening again?" you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart. You close your eyes, leaning into the touch as a warm hand cups your cheek briefly, letting your imagination take over. It feels so different this time. New yet oddly familiar.
Chan watches you intensely as his hands move, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The elixir courses through his veins, its side effects overpowering all his rational thoughts. He’s driven by an insatiable urge, a need he can't control. He watches as you react to his touch, his heart aching with guilt and confusion. No matter how strong his willpower is, the elixir's effects are stronger and he just can't fight it.
His fingers trace the curve of your neck, and you shiver with pleasure. You can almost imagine it’s Jisung, finally giving in to the tension between you two, putting a stop to his avoidance. You lean back, your head resting against the arm of the couch, giving in to the fantasy in your mind.
Chan’s breath catches in his throat. He’s never seen you like this, so vulnerable, so open. His touch grows bolder, his hands moving to explore the contours of your body. You gasp as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your stomach.
“Jisung…” you whisper softly, lost in the sensation.
Chan’s heart twists painfully at the sound of his friend's name on your lips. But he can’t stop. The elixir won’t let him. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s not Jisung,” he wants to say, but the words die in his throat. Instead, he lets his actions speak for him, letting his hands trail lower, fingers lightly brushing over your cunt through your shorts. The scent of something familiar wafts past you—sweet, with a hint of something woodsy. It’s Chan’s scent, you realize; that's how he always smells, but that doesn’t make any sense. You dismiss the thought as your imagination running wild from stress again.
You moan softly, arching into his touch. The room feels like it’s spinning, the air thick with lust. Your hands reach out, trying to grasp something, anything, to anchor yourself. You expect nothing there, only the invisible force that is Chan’s chest collides with your fingers and you gasp in surprise. Your touch is like electricity to Chan and he's entirely driven by a desire he can’t control.
Chan’s mind is a mess of jumbled up thoughts and feelings. He wants to stop, to pull away but his body won’t listen. He’s lost in the sensation, the feel of your skin under his fingers, the sound of your moans filling the air. It's addicting and he needs it. He leans down, nipping and licking your neck, tasting the salt of your skin. You're soaking, your juices dampening your shorts.
“More,” You beg. Your voice sounds so distant like you're having an out of body experience but you need to be filled, stretched. The light touches are driving you insane.
Your shirt is lifted, and you feel warm breath against your bare skin. The touch is everywhere now, kneading your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you writhe on the couch. You can’t help but moan, louder this time, the sound louder than what's playing on the TV. If Jisung didn't have music playing in his room he'd have heard you.
What's left of Chan’s resolve crumbles. He moves with a newfound urgency, your shirt is ripped over your head and his hands and lips explore every inch of your body. Sucking and biting your flesh, your chest will be covered in hickies though you'll hardly notice or care. You’re lost in the feeling of his touch, the sounds of his ragged breathing, the feeling of his lips on your skin. It’s overwhelming, heady, consuming, intoxicating and you give in completely, letting yourself be carried away in the moment. Your reactions and the elixir's effects are driving Chan crazy, making him want to claim you, to make you his. He feels a primal need to possess you, to mark you as his own. He's vaguely aware of how insane that is. You're just his friend. Just sweet, sweet, caring, adorable y/n.
“Fuck, why do I want to ruin your pussy so bad?” He thinks looking down at your breast that is now littered with bite marks and red spots. He grits his teeth so hard that the muscle in his jaw flexes.
Fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, finding you pantyless, teasing you expertly. Your hips buck involuntarily and your hands cling onto arms you can't see. The room is filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet noises of invisible fingers sliding against your arousal. It’s maddening, being touched like this by someone you can’t see, but you don’t want it to stop.
The sensation of lips on yours is sudden, and you kiss back hungrily, feeling the heat and urgency in the invisible kiss. Your pants are pulled down, and you kick them off, desperate for more.
You feel the weight of an invisible body pressing you into the couch, the sensation of a hard, warm presence against your core making you moan again in anticipation. You’re slick, ready, and when you feel the pressure of him entering you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You've never been stretched this much, never felt this full even just from a couple of inches
“Ji...” you whisper one last time, but deep down, you know it’s not him.
Chan’s mind is a whirlwind of guilt and lust. “I’m sorry, y/n. Oh fuck.” He thinks, wishing he could say the words out loud.
He remains silent though, his actions driven by the liquid's effect. The pleasure, though, is beyond anything he's ever experienced. It's too strong, too addicting.
Did Jisung feel this insane? I feel like I'm not here in my own body. Yet I can feel every single thing.
“So wet.” he thinks. “But not for you.” his conscience adds. “But maybe if she knew it was me… maybe she'd be wetter?” He counters his own thoughts, feeling your cunt take every inch of him perfectly.
Each thrust is rough and quick, accompanied by a chorus of your moans and his low grunts. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure. The couch creaks beneath you and your moans grow louder and louder, but you don’t care. All that matters is the feeling of being completely devoured. It's like every touch and every thrust lights you on fire.
Chan’s body moves with a mind of its own, fucking fast and hard with no regards to whether he's hurting you or not. He’s mesmerized by the way you respond to him, the way your body feels under his. It's not too late to stop but he can’t. The elixir has taken over and he’s powerless against it. He’s lost in the moment, his own body responding to your every move.
“I’m so sorry.” He thinks again, but the words are swallowed by his overwhelming need. He watches as you move with him, your body arching and writhing in pleasure. He’s never seen you like this, never imagined you’d feel so good, so perfect.
You feel your climax building, the pressure too much. When you finally shatter, you feel it all throughout your body. You cry out, your body trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. Chan feels your muscles contract around him, pushing him over the edge. He releases inside you with a muffled grunt, his legs shaking as your cunt milks him. For a moment, everything is still. The room is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the air heavy with the sound of your intertwined breathing.
Lying there breathless, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure you feel the presence slip out of you leaving you feeling empty. The only sounds you hear is from the TV and whatever is going on behind Jisung's closed door. The presence is gone, leaving you alone and bewildered. You touch your lips, still feeling the phantom press of his kiss.
“That was real.” you say outloud to yourself, looking down at the red marks all over you.
Chan watches you from the kitchen, his heart heavy with guilt. He knows he can’t let this happen again but the need is still there, simmering beneath the surface waiting to bubble over again. He slips away, retreating to Jisung’s room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You lie back on the couch once fully dressed with your mind racing. What just happened? Who was it? And why does it feel so different this time? You close your eyes, trying to make sense of it all, but the answers elude you. All you know is that something changed, and you’re not sure what it means, but you're determined to find out.
You don’t know what’s going on, but you’re certain now that whatever it is, Jisung and Chan are behind it. It only makes sense, but at the same time, it doesn’t. You smelt Chan's cologne, the same one you bought him last year for Christmas. You felt his muscles when your fingers gripped his arms. You’d know one of Chan’s hugs when you felt it. Why couldn’t you see him though? That sort of thing is only possible in movies like "Harry Potter" or that Kevin Bacon movie "Hollow Man." Right? There's got to be a way to find out if you're actually crazy or part of some weird experiment.
Over the next two days, it's more of the same but you expect it each time and for some reason, you find that you wait for him. When the smell of vanilla surrounds you, you know that you'll feel his hands next and you always do. It doesn’t seem to matter where you are around the house; he always finds you. Always fucks you with unfiltered need. On the balcony, where the cool night air contrasts with the heat of Chan’s body as he lifts you onto the table, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady. You feel the rough texture of the metal beneath you, the slight chill against your bare skin. You feel his heart pounding against your chest, a mirror of your own racing pulse. He leaves you spent, your body still trembling with the aftershocks. It was the same way last night when he took you in the kitchen on the floor.
Your tea was cold by the time you got to it. Still, you have no way to prove your suspicions. With a smirk, an idea forms in your mind. Those two aren’t the only smart ones in the apartment. Whatever is going on, it's clear that it’s not permanent. You chew on your bottom lip in thought, watching Chan and Jisung raid the kitchen for pizza and drinks. Jisung's gaze flicks to you and back to Chan.
Does he know? Is it all just some sort of joke? That’s got to be why he’s been acting so weird towards you, right? Your smirk widens and turns into a full-blown grin that seems to make Jisung nervous and he looks away quickly. When Chan looks at you, you see a flicker of something that gives you a bit more confidence in your theory.
“If you won’t tell me, I’ll make you show me.” you whisper under your breath, never breaking eye contact in a silent challenge.
You shift on the sofa and lay back exactly the way he had you that first night he entered you. When Chan swallows hard and licks his lips, you shiver. He knows that you know something and he's glad. He wants you to find out, he wants to be caught. What will you do once you find out everything though? He has no clue but he's sure it'll change everything between you three.
Part III in the works.
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292 notes · View notes
starlitmelanin · 2 months
Note
she tries to get over her crush on her childhood best friend jude by trying to set him up with other people. recipe for disaster, actually.🥴
no good deed | jude bellingham
pairing - jude x fem!reader
word count - 1.1k
warnings - none
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it starts with lily.
lily is near perfect. she's smart, funny, doesn’t have the slightest clue about football — but, she’s sweet enough.
you figure, if you can get jude to fall for someone like lily, you can convince your heart to calm the hell down. you're not sure of the logic there, but it makes sense at 2 am when you're staring at the ceiling, wondering why you're such an idiot.
"hey jude," you say one evening, as he jumps to sit on your bathroom counter, while you do your skin care routine before bed. "what do you think about lily?"
he looks at you, eyebrows raised. "lily? she's cool, i guess. why?"
you try to sound casual. "i dunno, just thought you two might get along."
he shrugs. "maybe. but i'm not really looking for anything right now, you know?"
you nod, pretending like that doesn't make your heart do a stupid little flip. of course, he's not looking for anything. he's focused on his career, on being the best. it's one of the things you love about him. dammit.
but you're not one to give up easily. next, you try suggesting clara. clara, who's a bit of a wild card but has this infectious energy that you think might be good for jude. plus, she's been eyeing him for months.
"clara asked about you the other day," you say nonchalantly while you're at a party.
jude glances over at her, then back at you. "clara? really?"
"yeah. i think she likes you."
he laughs, shaking his head. "she's fun and all, but not really my type."
you swallow your frustration. "what is your type then?"
he looks thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs. "dunno. someone who gets me, i guess. someone i can just... be myself with."
you know he's talking about you. you know he is. but you also know he doesn't see you that way. it's like some cosmic joke.
weeks pass, and you keep trying. each time, he's polite, he's interested, but it never goes anywhere. part of you is relieved, but another part is just tired. why can't you just tell him how you feel? why are you such a coward?
one evening, you're both sitting on his couch, some mindless tv show playing in the background. you've given up on the whole setting-him-up-with-someone-else thing, and he seems to sense your frustration.
"you've been weird lately," he says, nudging you with his shoulder. "what's going on?"
you laugh, but it's hollow. "nothing. just... life."
he doesn't buy it. "come on, we've known each other forever. you can tell me."
and that's the problem, isn't it? you can't tell him. you can't tell him that every time he smiles at you, it feels like the sun is shining just for you. you can't tell him that every time he dates someone new, it feels like someone's twisting a knife in your gut. you can't tell him that you're so stupidly, hopelessly in love with him that you can't even see straight.
instead, you say, "it's just... complicated."
he looks at you for a long moment, and you wonder if maybe he knows. if maybe he's always known. but then he smiles, and it's the same smile he's given you a thousand times, and you realise he doesn't. he has no idea.
"well, whatever it is," he says, "you know i'm here for you, right?"
and that's what breaks you. because he is there for you. he's always been there for you. and you're so tired of pretending. so tired of lying to yourself.
"yeah," you whisper. "i know."
you leave early that night, making some excuse about needing to get up early. he looks disappointed, but he doesn't push. you're grateful for that.
back at home, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. you look the same as always, but everything feels different. you can't keep doing this to yourself. you can't keep tearing yourself apart for someone who will never see you the way you want him to.
so you make a decision. you're going to tell him. you're going to lay it all out, consequences be damned. you'd rather have the truth out there, even if it means losing him, than keep living this half-life.
the next day, you call him. "can we talk?"
he senses the seriousness in your tone and agrees immediately. you meet at some secluded park, the same park where you grew up together. it feels fitting, somehow.
"what's up?" he asks, concern etched on his face.
you take a deep breath. "i need to tell you something. and i need you to just... listen."
he nods, eyebrows furrowed and attentive.
"i've been in love with you," you start, your voice trembling. "for as long as i can remember. and i tried to ignore it, tried to set you up with other people, tried to do anything to stop feeling this way. but it's not working. and i can't keep pretending."
his face is unreadable, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. you brace yourself for rejection, for the inevitable awkwardness that will follow.
but then he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "you idiot," he says softly. "why didn't you tell me sooner?"
you blink, stunned. "what?"
he takes your hands in his, and you feel your breath hitch. "i've been in love with you too. but i thought you just saw me as a friend. i didn't want to mess things up."
you stare at him, unable to process his words. "you... what?"
he laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "yeah. all this time, i've been waiting for the right moment. i guess we're both idiots, huh?"
you laugh too, a mixture of relief and disbelief flooding through you. "i guess so."
he pulls you into a hug, and you feel like you're finally home. all the pain, all the frustration, it melts away in his arms.
"so," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "what now?"
you smile, pulling back to look at him. "now, we stop being idiots and see where this goes."
he grins, and it's like the sun is shining just for you. "sounds like a plan."
and for the first time in a long time, you feel like everything is going to be okay. because sometimes, the person you've been searching for has been right there all along.
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237 notes · View notes
atinystraynstay · 8 months
Text
Late Night Cravings - Lee Jihoon
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Synopsis: It's a Friday night, and your hard-working boyfriend has locked himself in this recording studio once again. Jihoon felt guilty for the nights separated from you, whereas you would do anything to watch his fantasies become a reality.
Pairing: Lee Jihoon x fem. reader
Genre: Angst - Jihoon feeling guilty, fluff, established relationship, soft smut - MINORS DNI
Contains: dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), dom!Jihoon, unprotected sex (wrap it up, my friends!!), squirting, creampie
Word Count: 3.5k
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Jihoon let out a frustrated groan. His fingers drove through his hair, frustrated beyond belief at the song-writing process. It wasn't like him to get stuck like this, but here he was - unable to form even words.
He glanced towards the clock and grimaced at the sight of it being close to 2am. He was hoping to have been out of here around 9pm, so he could have made it to your apartment by 10pm. Jihoon was under pressure from the company to get a new demo to them by Sunday. Yet, here he was on a Friday night, barely making progress. He should be with you instead.
When you guys together, you knew that the relationship would require a lot of work. You weren't dating any guy, after all. Music was Woozi's passion in life. You wanted to encourage him to pursue every project that screamed for his attention and the ones he got the most excited about. Even if it meant that he had to cancel plans or you went days without seeing each other, you would do it for you.
That's the part that made Woozi feel the most guilty. You made all these sacrifices for him, sacrificing your own needs to allow him to pursue his goals made him feel lousy. Aren't relationships supposed to be about equality? How can you give that to him when his career doesn't allow him to make such sacrifices? There was very little wiggle room for him when there were constant deadlines and meetings.
Maybe the reason why Jihoon put so much pressure on himself was because this was his first, genuine relationship. He's had flings with people here and there, but they weren't meaningful to him. You, on the other hand, meant everything and so much more. He wanted to make things right with you.
There was a gentle knock on the door. Who could that be?
"Come in," Jihoon called out. He made sure to hit save on his computer on what progress he has made. Even if it was minimal, he would be devastated if it all vanished suddenly. It might be someone from the company who wanted to talk logistics, which can be a length conversations anyways.
The door slowly pushed open. He leaned over his chair to see who it was.
"Surprise?" You called out.
His eyes grew wide at the sight of you. You had your hair pulled back into a high ponytail and were wearing sweats. Yet to him, you looked like you were ready to walk the runway. He picked up on the scent of take-out coming into the room. He glanced down to see your hands holding a white plastic bag. Though he glanced at the clock to see it was 2:07am. You should be asleep.
"Is now a bad time?" You frowned.
He quickly shook his head before spinning his chair around, so he could easily push himself up. He was just absolutely speechless that you knew that he needed a distraction. Realistically, he needed you.
"It's never a bad time, darling." His heart swelled just seeing you in front of him. How did he get so lucky?
You relaxed as you watched Jihoon cross the room to get to you. Jihoon never was the type of person to let height stand in the way of things, but he always found it adorable how you still had to look up at him.
Once he stood in front of you, he cupped your face. You couldn't help but giggle as he tried looking down at you with a stern look. Yet, to you, he was the least intimidating person. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched together as he gazed down at you. His thumbs running over the soft skin of your cheek made you weak in the knees.
'I just thought you'd be asleep right now, sweet girl. You know I don't like it when you're up too late or you're waiting for me." "I know, but I just couldn't get comfortable without you in bed. And then I figured you haven't eaten so I thought maybe food might help you while coming to see you would help me."
Jihoon's heart broke at your statement. He wanted desperately to be the man you deserve, the one that is punctual and not forgetful. There were too many times he could count when he felt like he had let you down. Tonight is an example of that.
"I truly don't deserve you," he sighed." His forehead found yours. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, as he was just taking a moment to feel you so close to him after what felt like centuries apart. "How can I ever make it up to you, angel? How can I repay you for being so damn understanding?"
Your hands moved up to gently rest on his. Your fingertips were caressing against his strong hands which caused his eyes to open. The sight alone caused his heart to melt. You were looking up at him like he was made out of the stars. And to you, he was.
"I just want to be around you, Jihoon. That's all I need."
Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. He removed his hands from your face, so one hand could hold onto your hip. With his free hand, he took the takeout and put it in the mini-fridge. The mini fridge was closer to the front of the studio, right by the couch. He never liked bringing food over towards his equipment, in the case something spilled. He wasn't a fan of messes.
This time is an exception.
With ease, Jihoon lifted you up in his arms. Jihoon could never produce something as beautiful as the sound of your laughter.
His hands were resting underneath you which allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You let out a gasp in surprise before breaking out into a fit of laughter.His arms flexed underneath you, wanting to ensure you that he'd never drop you which caused you to stop the laughter and blush.
He couldn't help but smirk at your now shy reaction. "Oh darling, what's wrong? Something on your mind?" Jihoon walked the two of you over to the leather chair in front of his mixing board. You bit your lip gently, shaking your head. You were honestly just speechless by his strength.
"Tell me, darlin'. What are you missing the most?" He asked as he sat down on the chair. It was the perfect position that already allowed you to straddle him. You got yourself situated, not missing the throaty groan that escaped him.
But he wasn't about to allow you to have the upper hand.
"Have you missed the way my arms feel around you?" As he spoke, his hands started caressing your back. The feeling of the warmth of his hand sent shivers throughout your body in the best way possible.
Slowly, his hands began moving from your back towards your sides. He let his hands run up and down, his fingertips just grazing along your side. It sent goosebumps throughout your body even just feeling his touch through your clothing. He knew all the little ways to make your brain go fuzzy.
His eyes were trained on you, waiting for a response. He couldn't help but smirk as he watched you nod your head gently, your eyes bouncing from his to his wondering hands.
"Or have you missed the way that my fingers split your pussy open? How your tight walls will squeeze around them when you're on the brink of an orgasm? Or do you want to leave my cock to the stretching of your pussy, hmm?"
Your jaw dropped at his words, at the quick 180 he took. He kept one hand on your hip, ensuring you wouldn't go squirming away from him. His other hand moved down your thigh, resting high up. You could feel yourself getting wet with anticipation.
"Because I know I've missed the way you scream for me. I've missed the way your back arches and eyes roll whenever you squirt for me."
Jihoon couldn't ignore the little whimper that left your lips. It caused him to snicker as the hand on your thigh moved up to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. It was tied in a pretty little bow. Jihoon always loved how fiercely independent you are. It was admittedly one of the millions of reasons why Jihoon fell for you.
Reason a million and one was how easily he could make you crumble, how wrapped around his finger you were. It was a mutual love.
"I've been neglecting you a bit too long, haven't I?" he pouted slightly. "Let me make it up to you, angel."
Without further hesitation after receiving a nod from your head, Jihoon undid the bow before dipping past the waistband of the sweatpants. He shivered with excitement at the feeling of your warm ski underneath his fingertips.
Much to his surprise, he didn't feel a second layer underneath. He looked up at you with an eyebrow raised. Immediately, you knew what he was wondering about.
"Like I said, I missed you in bed."
That was enough for Jihoon to take action. With your legs already straddling his waist, he knew you were in the perfect position for his wandering fingers. His index and pointer fingers gently ran up and down your slit. He bit his lip at the feeling of how wet you already were for him.
He couldn't keep his precious baby waiting any longer. His two fingers slipped into your warm, wet pussy. His eyes fluttered shut so you couldn't see the rolling of his eyes at the feeling of how tight, how inviting you were from his. Your own head rolled back slightly, hips pushing towards his as you craved for more.
"I should really punish you for being so impatient right now when I'm giving you what you want," he murmured. His hand moved up to hold your chin, making your head tilt back to look into his eyes. "But I like too much knowing you need me as badly as I need you right now."
And he did need you. You could feel his boner growing harder against your thigh, twitching almost to be freed. You wanted so desperately to touch him, to provide him some relief as well, but you weren't sure you were allowed.
Not when it seemed that Jihoon was adamant about providing you pleasure first. His fingers began to thrust in and out of your pussy. Your juices were coating his fingers as they were pushed all the way.
Jihoon took a moment to admire you in this state. Your chest was starting to rise and fall, just as soft whimpers and moans were leaving your lips. The feeling of your warm pussy clenching onto his fingers just enhanced how beautiful you are. All for him.
His fingers began to curl towards your g-spot which made you gasp. His tongue was poking out of his mouth slightly, a sign of determination you've grown so accustomed to. He also didn't let your clit go unoccupied as his thumb was rubbing fast circles into the bundle of nerves. Jihoon has always been talented with his fingers.
"Is that what you've been missing?" Jihoon asked teasingly.
You shook your head quickly as you made sure to look into his eyes. His fingers were grazing against you g-spot, sure. And you were on the brink of facing your first orgasm, but it's not what you wanted.
Not when it felt like you were being suffocated by the layers you were wearing, or how they were beginning to stick slightly to your skin from the sweat. You wanted to experience a closeness to him you've been craving for one too many nights.
He slowed down your fingers, curious as to what was going on in your mind. His head also tilted, an eyebrow raised as you studied you for a moment. "No? Oh, baby. Use your big girl words."
"I need your cock in me. I want to cum with you in me and to feel you cum in me. I need you to fuck me so hard that I can't move afterwards. Please," you begged him.
Now, who was he to deny you? Especially when you asked so sweetly.
Jihoon's fingers stilled in you as he gazed up into your eyes. You were whimpering, hips subconsciously grinding against his fingers. God, how did he get so lucky? He could see the lust swirling in your eyes.
"Take off your sweatpants baby then mine. I'll give you what you really need."
The moment his fingers slipped out of your sweatpants, you immediately were tugging off your sweatpants. He chuckled at your eagerness. He took the opportunity to slip his fingers into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of your pussy on his fingers. He's missed the taste of you.
Feeling eyes on him, he looked to see you staring at him. Your mouth was slightly open as you watched him suck on his fingers, suck you off his fingers. He was so beautiful.
"Sweet like sugar," he murmured. He moved his fingers out, a soft 'pop'' sound echoing in the room. Due to your heightened awareness, it sounded like a booming stereo. You were just so hyper fixated on him, and could anyone blame you? He was the love of your life.
With your sweatpants now pooled on the ground, you did as Jihoon asked. He lifted his hips up slightly so you could pull off his own grey sweatpants, allowing them to join yours on the floor. Much to your surprise, Jihoon also went without boxer briefs. His cock, once freed, slapped up against his stomach and stood at attention for you.
"You know, I've missed you just as much, angel." His hands reached out to you, pulling you back into his lap. You straddled him once again. This time, you felt his cock brushing against you which sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. Finally, you had him right where you wanted him most.
Leaning forward, you began pressing tiny kisses along the side of his face. His cheeks heated up at the intimate gesture in such a heated moment. You always wanted to remind Jihoon just how loved he is, all of him.
His thumbs caressed your hipbones as he guided you to hover over his cock. "Give me the go-ahead, y/n, baby. I'm ready whenever you are."
Your hands moved to gently rest on his shoulders. Slowly, you ceased your kisses against his skin to be able to pull back and look down at the place where you two would connect. His pre-cum was coating the tip of his cock, which was throbbing and bright red. Jihoon has always been thicker than other guys you've been with. It made your mouth salivate, want to put him in your mouth and suck him dry. But you couldn't deprive yourself of the feeling of his cock in your pussy.
"Please, baby. Don't want any longer. Let go."
That's all he needed to hear. His hands now gripped your fingers, creating small indents in your flesh. He let you sink down onto his cock, sending the two of you groaning at the sensation of being filled with each other.
Before your hips could get to work on riding him, Jihoon took action first. He began thrusting his hips upwards almost instantaneously. He wanted to make sure that you could feel all of him, every inch. You moaned as he stretched you out in ways your own hands or any sex toy could. It was as if he was made for you.
"Is this what you've missed?" he huffed slightly as one particular thrust filled you completely. It made you choke on air at the feeling of him all the way up nearly by your cervix. Holy fuck.
You nodded your head as your forehead soon rested on his. Your eyelashes rested against your cheeks, lips hovering above his. He noticed how flushed your skin has become as you became overtaken by the pleasure and euphoria.
Jihoon grunted lowly as his hips fell into a fast, steady tempo. Just what you liked. His mind and body felt fuzzy yet electrified as the feeling of your pussy, of your body so close to his.
Your juices were starting to coat his bare thighs. The sound of skin smacking against skin, and how wet you were bounced off the walls. It was the most beautiful symphony.
Jihoon could feel his cock pulsate, the familiar burning in his stomach. He didn't want to end what he felt like was just getting started. But you were right there with him, the feeling almost becoming too much for you. Your stomach was tightening, threatening to spill.
"J-Jihoon," you whimpered out. You felt like it was too soon. You wanted to stay inn this moment as long as possible. It felt like if you released too soon, you would be ruining this beautiful moment.
You weren't even aware of the tears that were glossing your eyes. Jihoon looked directly into your hearts. Cooing lightly at the sight of your eyes, he shook his head. "Don't worry, angel. I'm right here with you. You can let go," he promised you. This time, he was the one pressing kisses into your skin.
Jihoon made sure his hips picked up momentum. He was going deeper and harder. The tip of his cock grazing against your g-spot which sent you spiraling. That's all you need to let go.
One of your hands gripped onto his shoulder. The other rested on the back of his head. Jihoon always loved the feeling of your fingers in his hair. It brought him so much comfort and pleasure.
On one particular thrust, you lost it. You cried out in ecstasy as your vision went white, almost as if you had been catapulted into the stars. Your back arched gently, as Jihoon ensured his arms were wrapped around you to support you.
Jihoon's eyes widened as he felt you squirt. Hard. All over himself, you, and the leather seat beneath the two of you. Holy fuck. That was the hottest thing he's ever witnessed.
Your body began to tremble, burying your face into his shoulder. Your fingernails were running along his scalp as if you were trying to bring yourself down to reality while simultaneously comforting him. For what? He wasn't sure. However, his heart was swelling with love at the sentiment. You always placed him before yourself.
Soft whimpers were leaving your lips as Jihoon was still thrusting. He cooed into your ear, kissing the shell of it gently. "I know, angel. I know. Be patient with me. I'm almost there."
All you could do was nod your head. You tried lifting your hips to help bring Jihoon closer to the edge, but he had it under control. The feeling of your trembling body against his, as well as the memory and evidence of your orgasm clouding his mind, helped bring him to the edge. He let out a loud groan as he thrusted one last time before spilling his cum into you.
Another whimper left your lips. You always loved the feeling of feeling so full of Lee Jihoon, both during and after sex. His white seed painted your walls, but some already spilling and dropping onto the leather seat.
This was the one type of mess Jihoon could tolerate.
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Jihoon's fingers were typing away at the speed of light. Words that became lyrics that turned into verses flooded his mind. He was trying his hardest to get it all scribbled down, so he could at least give something to the company on Sunday.
"Finally," he spoke under his breath. His voice was deeper, exhaustion evident. He had finally put something together.
And better yet, he could spend tomorrow solely focused on you. He smiled seeing the words on his work computer, ready to be shared and for feedback.
He glanced up at the clock once again. 5:12am. After ensuring the work had been saved to his computer, he was satisfied. Now he could return to his priorities.
Spinning in the chair, he was greeted by the sight of you. You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt Jihoon leaves around. I mean, the man is known to spend days locked away from the rest of the world, so keeping a spare change of clothes was essential to his survival. And much to your happiness, you were able to be wrapped up in clothes that smelled just like him.
The sight of you curled up on the couch, hunkering underneath a blanket made him feel so soft. He felt protective over you, knowing he was the only person who could provide you all the finer things in life but also humbled that you chose him. You just were delicate, the whole universe in his eyes.
"Come on, pretty baby. Let's go home."
496 notes · View notes
muzanswaifu · 2 years
Text
Rengoku x Maid!Fem!Reader
18+
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A/n: “My request is a fluff/smut Kyojuro x reader. The reader is a housekeeper for the Rengoku estate, she and Kyojuro have a secret relationship.”
Warnings: Smut, fluff, yandere themes, obsession, panty stealing, masturbation, cunnilingus, blowjobs, vaginal penetration, unsafe sex, creampies, secret relationship, sugar daddy kyo
Your relationship starts off so innocent
Master Rengoku is hardly around regardless, so not much happens initially anyway
You do as your told, clean the bedrooms, dust the doors, sweep the floor boards, life is simple in that you sleep, eat, and work in roughly the same schedule everyday
Your closeness with each other develops slowly, your first official meeting being the master calling for assistance in a nearby room as he’d spilt some cleaning solution, you’d apologized profusely, taking full blame for leaving the bottle out in the open, mentally hitting yourself for being so forgetful
He promptly tells your not to not to worry so much, it was his fault for being so clumsy, as a hashira he should know better
You go to bed that night feeling a bit embarrassed about the encounter and about being so damn awkward, you’d always thought he was kinda cute and handsome, despite only seeing him face to face for a total of 10 seconds
The next day you’re surprised to be called out to the garden, Rengoku wants to eat with you, although you oblige with some persuasion, you remind him of his fathers strict rules about the help slacking off, he tells you to relax, he’ll take full responsibility
When you ask why he wants you to eat with him, he tells you it because of what happened yesterday, he didn’t like how tense you were whike talking to him, wanted to reassure you that he in fact does not bite
Your nervously accept his “apology” and promise to not “be a stranger”
It only grows from there, the man insisting to accompany you everywhere you go when he visits, helping you with tasks that he’s humorously not very good at being from noble upbringing, its nice you’ll admit, but you’re horribly afraid of getting in trouble with his father
You’re especially panicked when you catch him in your room late, a scream nearly tearing out of you before you stop yourself, no need to draw more attention to this damning sight
He quickly apologizes, somewhat stuttering over himself as he excused his intrusion up to the need to find you, when you ask what he needs, he falls silent, eventually muttering out that he forgot and exits the room
Your confusion outweighs your frustration, only compounded in the following weeks of lingering touching and longing stares until it all leads up to the night your catch him touching himself in his room with a pair of your panties pressed to his face
You fall into a trance watching him through the creaked open door, your panties pressed deep against his nose while his hand works so fast that you can hardly see the entirety of his cock, only the blurry image of it, the sight has your thighs pressing together
When he finishes with a long groan, you break from your spell and attempt to step away until he calls with laughter from within the room that you can come in now
You hesistantly enter the room, eyes downcast as you realize he’s already gotten up and standing nude and proud before you
Its beyond embarrassing to be in the presence of the master's bare body but you try to grit through it as he explains to you his excitement of you finally coming to his side of the estate at this hour and that he was beginning to lose hope, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from admitting it was to use his fancy restroom he’d given you permission you to use a while ago, miraculously you didn’t even have to go anymore
When you do work up the nerve to ask him why he had your underwear he laughs delighted and admits they’ve been a great help to him at night to relieve stress, speaking of which...
You don't deny him when he asks you to lie with him, nor do you stop him from stripping you of your night clothes and setting you down onto his bed, one far more comfortable than your own you might add
Its hard to count how many ways you let him defile you that night, letting him shove his tongue into your mouth, kiss all over your body, bury his head between your legs, pierce his cock your guts, empty his sperm inside of you
you want to feel strong regret afterwards, anything to get punishment for what you’ve done, yet your feel none of it, instead overcome with the pure, unadulterated need for more, more of his company, his smile, his body, his mouth, his fingers, his tongue, his big, beautiful cock
Hell you wish it was harder to sneak around to get some alone time, but the effort proves to be rather unnecessary as the maids avoid his side of the estate like the plague and its not like his father’s nosing around looking for anything suspicious, though there were a few times when senjuro had nearly stumbled into you about to do the deed
When he does have to leave for missions, he puts into order two rules, you are to give him at least 5 pairs of panties, used, and you mustn’t touch yourself, at all, he wants you completely desperate for when he returns, as desperate as he will be for you
When he does return from those long, tiring missions, he expects you to be ready for him, on his bed naked and spread for him to go at you for hours
Rengoku doesn’t have the stamina of a normal man, his own ability outweighing theirs in the thousands as he’s able to go round after round with a sinfully short break time
It all gets to a point where you’re hardly even working anymore, only dancing room to room with him so he can take his pick of conversing with you, eating with you, playing games with you, or fucking you, you can even tell based on his posture which option he’s looking for
While it can be at times overwhelming, you dont at all mind the sex as kyojuro is a most giving lover, taking care of your needs first and foremost before he even thinks about pleasing himself , “your pleasure is my reward” is what he always says
But there are times when you force him to allow you to take control, pushing him back on the bed, telling him to keep his hands to himself as you descend on his erection, kissing his veined flesh all over with sloppy, wet kisses before glucking at his cock as best you can
The one thing you don’t like about this whole arrangement (other than the stressful secrecy) is the payment, the man insisted he pay you for your troubles, “triple what my father pays you” he said, you’re sure he doesn’t mean to, but his money makes you feel bad, like your some gold digging whore girl who extorts money from her sugar daddy, so you save all the money that he gives you, every cent, so that if things ever go south, you can give it all back to him
Because despite how…. sexually based your relationship is, you really do care for him
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mashiraostail · 2 months
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pls pls can i request a jealous halsin x reader/tav scenario … he’s been pining over you, you’re oblivious, and then when he sees some innocent platonic affection between you and another companion, all that pining boils to the surface. mayhaps some nsfw too if you’ll indulge me. pls the way you write him is simply… *chef’s kiss*…. magnifique ✨
hoooraayyy Halsin HOORAY!! I heart making men talk like flowery little victorian women writing letters to their husband say some fruity shit big man! Idk what compels me to make these so long that's why they take forever.
I have another ask like this and maybe I'll write him doing sum primal fuck shit but this was an itch i just had to scratch
It wasn't Gale's fault, it wasn't your fault either, it was his fault. Halsin knows this, he's honestly ashamed, he shouldn't be so easy to sway...he never has been before.
He notices everything, he notices the flirtation, the questions about the life he left behind, the fleeting touches, the way you always go to him when they day is out, you propositioned him, he declined. That was his fault. It wasn't the time, he had business he had to sort before he could indulge himself, and you couldn't hold that against him. He made it clear when he turned you down, it wasn't you, and maybe one day soon things would be different.
Even so, you were always chatting with him, smiling at him, touching him, gods you always touched him. It drove him mad actually, your hand on his bicep, on his chest, on his stomach when he said something particularly funny, you sat so close to him your thighs pressed together, your shoulders and arms, all of it pushed him to the edge. And the way you said his name after you laughed at his joke, "Oh Halsin.." When you see him again after a long day, "Halsin! How'd it go?!" You'd even hugged him, thrown your arms around his neck and shoulders. He'd held the small of your back and laughed heartily with you, maybe a few ales too deep. He swore one day soon things would turn a corner for the two of you.
You doted on everyone though, and you enjoyed closeness with all your companions. Normally he'd be happy to see you sharing your joy with everyone but lately it frustrated him. He wondered what was different, even though deep down he knew. It was you, he didn't want you to himself necessarily, he wanted you to understand how he felt. The more he waited to explain himself the more upset he became, and the harder he found focusing around you to be. He felt like he was always brooding, always lingering behind the group, because the sight of you slinging your arm around Karlach or playfully mussing Astarion's hair made his stomach lurch with uncertainty. He wrote it off as a disdain for societal labels and relationships but he felt unfair even doing that, lying to himself.
He and Jaheria were the last ones to return to camp that day. He was grateful to travel with her alone, though he lamented not seeing you he did not lament the emotions seeing you caused to crop up. When he returned you were sitting on a log by the fire with Gale, chuckling and waving your hands. He'd already begun to feel wary.
Halsin inches closer, he snoops a bit sure, he's not proud of it but he's been alive long enough to accept he won’t always be proud of his actions.
"No!" You sound surprised through your laughter.
"Yes!" Gale's tone was argumentative but warm as you held onto his arms. Halsin bubbled a bit, out of everyone Gale was the most likely to get the wrong idea...or maybe the right one if the way you were squeezing him was any indiction of things.
"Did you really misbehave so terribly when you were younger?? I'll have to ask Tara next time we see her, I don't believe you!"
"Am I so untrustworthy?!" Gale sounds affronted.
"Based on your stories?? Yes! Gale! You are!" You're squeezing him and shaking him so much the pair of you topple over the back of the log you're perched on, Halsin watches Gale kick his legs for a while as you laugh.
"You'll kill me," Gale stands up and dusts himself off, "and the rest of them too!" He gestures to his orb, "I don't know how sensitive this thing is!" He hoists you up by your arm.
"I'm sorry Gale, that was just so funny, I can't picture you a young mischievous wizard at all..."
"Well it's a good thing I grew out of it." He's smirking at you though, impishly. It makes you laugh.
"Did you?" You cover your mouth as you chuckle before reaching out and dusting his hair off, tucking the rouge strands back into place. "I don't know if I believe that either. You've certainly kept your impish charm."
Halsin feels his face warm, he watched the two of you bat at each other like school children. He kissed his teeth, rubbed his calloused thumb over the smooth back of his hand, anything to distract himself from the annoyance rolling over in his stomach.
"Who's to say?" Gale holds his hands up, a faux surrender, shrugging just a bit.
"Go to sleep Gale." You shove him, snickering, "you're delirious."
"Perhaps I am." Gale smiles at you, "goodnight my friend." The words hardly do anything to put Halsin at ease he can practically feel his eye twitching. Whoever said patience was a druidic virtue?
"Sleep tight Gale." When you turn away from him you see Halsin, who to his credit had no real reason to be standing there.
"Halsin!" You chirp happily at him and he feels his chest bloom at it.
"Hello my dear, we're back late today, I apologize. Did you need us?" He tries to squash the growing disdain in his stomach in favor of appreciating you as you appear before him.
"Oh no! Nothing Shadowheart couldn't handle." You wave back at her tent, "How were your travels?"
"They were fine. Unfortunately the Harpers really can't be trusted.." He peers over your shoulder, notices your tent moved to be beside Gales, which had never been the case before.
"I figured as much." You sigh, he watches your eyebrows turn upwards. "That's upsetting. Are you going to clean up for the night?"
"Yes I think I will." He glances to the stream behind camp, no one else was there.
"Can I come? I hate to bother you but I can't sleep, and I think I kept Gale up so long he was hallucinating." Your fingertips brush his arm as you chuckle, he glances down at the point of contact. He feels the skin there heat up as you pull away.
"You're no bother, my dear." He shakes his head, "come with me."
You trot happily behind him, unaware of his stewing just in front of you.
"So, what went wrong with the Harpers?"
"You and Gale are close." Halsin elects to ignore your questions.
"Oh?" You perch on a nearby rock as Halsin crouches by the stream, "Gale? I suppose we are friendly. He's very funny."
"Is he?" Halsin fights to keep his tone even, though you seem oblivious to it.
"Did you hear us talking earlier? I swear the more sleepy he gets the funnier he is." You're giggling, like a school child. Halsin feels his eye twitch.
"I did not hear you, I only saw you fall."
"My fault completely, I was going mad with it, it was so funny, Gale told me that when he was a younger student, at that fancy magic school he snuck into the-"
"Do you..care for him?" Halsin turns to you, still crouched by the running water below him.
"I suppose I do...like him yes." You sound confused, lost, which Halsin supposes is a good sign as you'll only tell the truth.
"You like him?" Halsin is looking intently at you.
"I do, he's..nice.." You look like you're entirely unsure about what's going on.
"You like him so much because he's..nice, then?" Halsin doesn't sound like he's convinced.
"Yes I think so-"
"Do you share a bed with him?" Halsin stands, he walks towards you perched on your rock.
"I-" He almost feels bad for the way a warm flush rises to your face as you look up at him.
"N-no we don't, we haven't. We're only friendly-"
"Do you wish to? Would you wish to?"
"N-no I don't, I wouldn't he...I-" You flounder a bit, "why do you ask?"
"It seemed a certain way." Halsin kneels, face to face with you on your perch, "I worried."
"Why did you worry?"Your holding your hands by your chest, leaning away from him, shocked but not leering, nervous..you were nervous. "Why would it worry you to know I shared a bed with Gale, that I cared for him in that way?"
At the realization of your nervousness he feels guilty, he puts his hands on your thighs, "I should apologize."
"Why?" Your face was flushed, your eyes were wide as you watched him, tried to predict his next move with no avail.
"I was selfish with you. With your time, with your care." He shakes his head, "I beg you to forgive me. To not let this ruin your opinion of me..I acted so poorly...and it..it’s embarrassing and dreadful and I beg for your forgiveness...You gave me a chance to have a piece of you, I turned you away. I know you don't hold that against me. You stepped aside and I am grateful that you did. The curse was my burden to bear, and I couldn't be distracted from it, not by you, or by anybody. You understood that, and I am grateful. Had you pushed me I would have..become distracted with you, I would have followed you wherever you went, and forgotten my duty."
"I understand Halsin. I'm not offended-"
"I know you aren't, and that's why I'm so grateful for you." He looks earnest, "but I selfishly believed that you would hold onto your want for me. That you would wait indefinitely for me to come to you. I held you to an unfair expectation, to the hope that you would not share your heart, or your body, with another. When I saw you today with Gale, I worried that I had given you up, that I had made a terrible blunder and I had lost my chance to have you. Gale does not seem the kind of man to be willing to share you, and I cannot blame him, nor could I blame any other for keeping you to themselves once they've had you."
"Why does that worry you? You did not want me then-"
"I did want you." Halsin insists, "and I do want you now, I've wanted you since the beginning but I knew you would consume me, that I would lose sight of what I was meant to do..but I've burned with it, you have enamored me completely and... brought out the worst in me, I'm useless with it."
"I'm sorry Halsin.." You hold his gaze, and cover his hands with yours.
"And you still apologize as if you have done wrong." He squeezes your thighs where his hands cover, "you have not, I am the one who lost sight of things, lost sight of what I wanted, who I wanted. I was so enamored by the idea of having you I cursed any obstacle in my way, rather than telling you the truth. That was my error. It was my error to believe you would hold onto your desire even after I turned you away, to believe that you would still consider me after I put something else above you."
"I don't understand Halsin.." You blink at him as he lifts your hands, "do you want to go our separate ways? Is this too much- I apologize if I was too forward back then, but we need you-"
"No," His forehead falls onto your knees, "perhaps I am not speaking clearly." He squeezes you again, "I don't want to be parted from you, not now, not ever... I want the opposite," he sighs, "I want you now, if you'll have me, if you can put my behavior..my feelings behind us.I know it was so childish of me. I’m so sorry my songbird..please find it in yourself to forgive me.” He looks up at you, he kisses the back of your hand, “you’ll break my heart if you don’t.”
"You haven't done anything wrong....Halsin.." You shake your head, "if you need to be forgiven then I forgive you, I'll always forgive you, but...I do not think you've done anything that deserves asking for it. We misunderstood each other..."
"You are brighter, and kinder than most, perhaps you're naive... or perhaps you understand things better than any of us." He kisses up your inner arm to the crook of your elbow, "I laid some sort of...childish claim to you, I believed I deserved you, your time, your body, your heart, more than the others, that you would come to me because...I don't know..I'm sorry, forgive me for treating you like a prize to be won, a piece of land to fight over you are...your heart is so much more than that, to me and to everyone that you meet." He barely takes his lips off your skin when he looks up at you and you feel your lungs empty of air.
"Halsin..of course I forgive you..” You barely get it out, you feel so breathless.
His lips pass the bend of your elbow and make their way to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, his other hand engulfs your waist as he moves you from your perch and pulls you to his chest,
“do you? Really?” He’s at your jaw, "I was too much of an oafish brute to put words to it, to tell you, even when I should have, I adore you, I think so highly of you. I'm so taken by you.."
"I feel the same way Halsin.." You're breathless when you're face to face, your hand holds the nape of his neck, "I thought you wanted to...focus on the more dire things at hand so I left you to them, and when things ended and you didn't come to me I thought perhaps the fascination had passed and I did not want to trouble you again-"
"You did not trouble me then, you do not trouble me now,"  He sighs gratefully as he kisses you, it’s warm, his other hand leaves your jaw to press the small of your back, arching you closer to him.
“I have to have you..I’m worried I’ll die if I don’t.” He’s breathing quickly into your mouth with anticipation, “I need to see you.. All of you and..and feel you I-”
“Oh.” You felt gooey at that, of all the things you expected to happen today this was not one of them.
“And It has to be now you see I- I can hardly put my head on right when I start to think about you like that and it’s all I've been thinking of lately... I doubt I’ll even be able to get anything done properly tomorrow if you don’t set me straight.”
You laugh at that, “okay..” You nod, leaning down to him again, just slightly taller than him perched on his lap.
“Yes?” He sounds so perfectly hopeful.
"Tell me you want me, tell me this is what you want..to be with me..and for me to have you..even after all the things we misunderstood..that you’ll let me bed you, that you want me to..” He looks up at you earnestly, his eyes flickering between yours and you nod.
"I want you, I want this, Halsin, I always have."
He let's out a warbled sigh into your lips at that, already lowering your bodies to the ground, kissing you, sliding his hands into your clothes.
He was quick to uncover you, to toss your clothes off somewhere, to sigh gratefully as you did the same to his, you wondered what had gotten into him, but had no complaints either way.
He was lowering himself between your legs easily, kissing down your chest, lavishing your stomach with attention, unperturbed by the flush creeping down your neck.
"Halsin you don't have to-"
"Please, don't deny me now.." You aren't sure why you thought he would consider this a chore.
He deluged you with loving attention, his hands slid from the sides of your thighs up to the small of you back, pulling you closer and closer to him with each stroke. He groaned when you called his name, when you carded hair through your hands or held his face. Languid stokes of his tongue, paired with the slow curling of his fingers inside you. It felt like he was indulging himself with you, occasionally he pulls away, pressing the tall bridge of his nose to your tender skin, nipping at it, taking in deep breaths of you.
He retraces his path to your lips, long kisses and wide strokes of his tongue over your stomach, open mouthed kisses to your chest and collar, then he's taking your face in his hands, "Please-"
"You don't have to beg-" Your eyebrows draw together, "Halsin, I'm in no mood to deny you."
He guides your legs around his waist and slowly guides the head of his cock into you, a hand caging you in on either side of your head. You hold the nape of his neck, and his chest, begging him closer.
"Is it too much?" He sounds almost nervous, "are you alright?" He watches your chest and stomach prattle with deep, shaky breaths.
"I'm alright," You can barely get it out, "Halsin-" You're keening as he bottoms out. He ducks into your neck smattering loose kisses and bites along your skin.
"You're singing for me again," He's sighing into your skin, pulling you closer to him, "you sound so beautiful like this..." He rests one of his hands on your chest, pressing his thumb gently to the divot between of your collar bones, feeling you suck in deep, needy breaths in time with the rolls of his hips into you. Your skin is red under his thumb, flushed with arousal, nervousness, every time he moans, or pulls you into him he feels his hand rise as you take in a deep breath.
He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder and noses at the soft skin of your inner knee, he can feel your heart beating under his hands, he can feel your eyes on him, sliding down his chest and abdomen, back to his neck and jaw then to his eyes again. His hand rises and falls rapidly with your chest as you chant his name, he free hand guides the small of your back upwards as you arch into him. Your hand holds his on your chest, wrapped loosely around his wrist, your other flutters between his arm and chest.
"I'm here," Halsin breathes it out as your leg coils tighter around him, "I hear you, singing for me." And you were, hopelessly chanting his name between long rolls of his hips and every time you felt his index finger slide down the divot of your spine, "you're doing so well my songbird.." He sighs dreamily at you, as if you weren't coming undone below him.
You wrap both of your legs around him as he guides you up into his lap with the hand on your back, your arms lock around his shoulders easily and he groans into the crook of your neck, "hold onto me, I need you close." You can feel his breath down your chest, warm thankful sighs sliding down the sliver of space between your bodies.
His hand feels worlds larger on your back than you had fantasized, he uses it to guide the roll of your hips into his, his other hand holds the back of your neck, pulling you desperately closer. He sang you praises, pulled you greedily into his chest and kissed you when you cried out particularly loud until you felt yourself tightening around him, coiling in your stomach. You felt your nails dig into the back of his shoulder, he didn't seem to mind.
When it becomes too much, when that feeling in your stomach snaps and breaks you crumple into him, you tuck your head beneath his chin, you practically cry for him. When he finishes, which is hardly a few seconds after you, he drags his hand up you back, over your waist, then presses between your shoulder blades, you hear the hoked off groan that he lets into your hair.
You kiss him again, holding his jaw in two careful hands.
"I'm sorry i've kept you up dreadfully late." Halsin's hands still slide needy over your back and waist, pulling you ever closer to him.
"It's okay it..was worth it I'd say." You laugh, "what's brought all that on? Now, after everything?"
"You didn't notice how I'd been brooding? I'd hardly been myself."
"I thought you disliked the city, I was worried you were going to ask to part from us. Astarion disagreed though he wouldn't tell me his theory."
Halsin laughs a bit at that, and after all the desperation and apologizing, it was a welcome sound, "That was for the best I think."
"Perhaps. Were you really jealous of Gale?" You leer back at the idea, "he's nice and all but he really doesn't hold anything over you."
"I was not jealous of Gale just because you found him to be..nice and funny...there are plenty of nice and funny people here." He lies and looks away from you, which is how you can tell he's lying.
"Ah. I see." Your hands rest on his chest, "sorry I misunderstood then." You're grinning anyway. You swipe his hair off his forehead, and in that moment he decides he was fair to be jealous of Gale, even fleeting touches left him feeling lavished with attention.
"Let's clean off." He turns into your palm.
"Can I spend the night with you, in your tent?" You look up at him as you stand.
"Of course." He's smiling at you, another welcome change, "you don't need to ask. I'm here whenever you need me, call for me and I'll come." He leans down to you, "I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner." His thumb traces the shell of your ear as you kiss.
"Don't worry now, you're dramatic." You chuckle into him, "would you really have died?"
"There was no sense in risking it." He lifts you by the back of your thighs and makes his way to the water with you, "better to be safe.”
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