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#VERY ANNOYED BY THE FINALE. SIMPLY ANNOYED.
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JJK Characters Realizing They Start Falling for You [Pt.2]
Bonus: manga character in the end!
Choso:
Being one of the Death Paintings, he never experienced such feelings before. At first, he tries identifying it but fails. It’s more than friendship and more than simple protectiveness. After some time, he goes to Yuji and reluctantly asks for advice.
Grumpy and aloof by nature, Choso starts with tiny steps: sitting a bit closer to you than usually, talking to you more often or even doing small acts of service like holding the door for you.
He actually has lots of passion, emotions and affection inside and with you around, he feels more in touch with these emotions than ever.
Is very sweet and once opening up, will blow you away with his wit and humor.
Will surely take some time to mentally prepare for asking you out since a) he doesn't believe he has a chance and b) has super low self esteem in terms of being a romantic partner.
Takes you to a quiet place where he can gather his thoughts. Is surprisingly straightforward though and just admits he likes you and would like to get to know you more.
INSTANT SMILE OF RELIEF
Cups your face and stares in your eyes with a huge goofy smile, not quite comprehending what just happened.
Yuta:
Since he had a history with Rika, at first he brushes off any thoughts of potential love interests.
However, you make it hard for him not to pay attention to the way you laugh, carry yourself, or spar.
Opens up with you more, replacing his shy facade with his true, ingenious and passionate self.
He finds it fascinating how easy it is to talk to you and just be around you, with no need to pretend or stay alert.
Is actually a very protective type and it will show almost instantly. He will always make sure you are safe and comfortable but he won't be obtrusive at all.
One day just asks you to join him and spend some time in an amusement park. While walking, will casually drop the "I quite like you" line and will smile softly, talking your hand.
From the start, he never doubted in your answer and now smiles in quiet confidence.
Toji:
Needless to say, the man is super reserved so at first, he will just act as his usual self: keeping the distance and occasionally glancing at your side with a frown.
Is annoyed at himself because he never thought he’d be interested in another person again. Apparently, you found your way under his skin.
Toji knows how to be a husband but has forgotten how to be a boyfriend so he’ll have hard time figuring out where to start.
Are flowers okay? What do people even do these days? Should he take you out somewhere?
His rage surprisingly dissolves in your presence and he cherishes this feeling though never admits it out loud.
Will take you to a secluded and quiet restaurant and will simply state that yes, he’d love to… try this whole…relationship thing with you.
Geto:
Usually has no trouble asking someone out or simply flirting but finds himself at loss of words in your presence.
It’s weird and he both likes it and feels a bit embarrassed.
Is a type to observe you from the distance and make mental notes on your behavior and habits. He doesn’t stalk though: he is just hesitant to approach you yet.
Is amused by the way you laugh or fix your hair and smiles softly and admires you quietly
Loves to touch you, be it holding your hand occasionally or brushing a strand of hair from your face.
Will probably ask you out while you two share a quiet and cozy evening. Something like stargazing together sounds like a perfect start for your blooming relationship.
“I’m not used to needing someone as much as I need you, but I’ll be honored if you decide to give it a try and become my partner”
Higuruma:
Not really a romance type of guy and has never been pursuing a relationship, prioritising work.
Is caught off guard by the sight of you. His eyes open widely and his whole expression changes as if the veil, that’s been hiding his features, was finally lifted.
Tries to rationalise his feelings and emotions. Like, he should control them, right? Logic should be above it all?
In your presence, acts in a rather sharp manner, trying to hide nervousness.
Old-school romance is his style. One day, he will just show up with a huge bouquet of flowers, assembled specifically to your liking.
Will be brutally honest like “I don’t know why I’m feeling this way but I’d rather spend evening with you than by myself”
Will actually open up and as it turns out, has a wonderful sense of humor and lots of witty stories that he will gladly share.
Note though that he is a perfect listener. This man is genuinely interested in your day, your mood and your thoughts.
He wants to become part of your life and is willing to work on any complexities that might arise.
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kurishiri · 1 day
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12 . . . alfons main story
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!
— cw: consumption of alcohol, violence (with guns), finally some action /ref
When we stepped inside, what looked to be a different world altogether spread before me.
The crystals hanging down from the chandelier reflected light off, giving it a dazzling glow, welcoming us inside...
I sat down on the sofa next to Alfons, and we casually listened in on people’s conversations from the buzzing as they came.
(I can’t deny it’s very lavish, but it also doesn’t seem so much different from any other bar...)
Perhaps because the entrance is so heavily regulated, it didn’t really feel so much like a ‘members only’ club,
and we didn’t feel any eyes staring us down.
Male server: Would you like some?
The server was carrying liquor of an amber color, and I could tell from the smoky smell that this was a type of high-end whisky.
Kate: I will pa——
Knowing the alcohol content was strong, I tried to turn him down, but then Alfons whispered from beside me.
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Alfons: As we are in a gentlemen’s club, you will end up raising suspicion should you turn down an offer for liquor.
(Urgh…)
Kate: …Well then, I will partake in some. [1]
Alfons: As will I.
Male server: As you wish.
I took the whisky glass he put on the table in my hand before slowly tilting the glass toward my lips until I could feel the drink.
(Urgh... it really is strong...)
However, remembering Alfons’ advice he had given me just moments before, I tried my best to present myself in a more masculine way as I downed some of the glass.
Alfons: Hehe.
Kate: W-what’s so funny...?
Alfons: Oh, think nothing of it. I was simply thinking you are such a good girl, trying your best to do exactly as you’re told.
Kate: ...
Throwing me a short side glance while laughing, I felt my heart skip a beat.
And just like that, I felt my heartbeat go ever so slightly faster than normal.
(T-this must be because of the strong alcohol...)
Being next to Alfons had a bad influence on my heart.
When we first met, it had been because ‘I could feel he was dangerous’...
...but now, even the most trivial expressions he made, and each of his gestures were enough to send my heart into chaos.
(Okay, forget about Alfons for now, I should focus on the mission...)
Gentleman with round glasses: I believe we are just about done at getting rid of that annoying journalist woman now.
At that moment, the conversation I overheard brought me out of my thoughts.
Gentleman in a plaid suit: Indeed... I take it you speak of the woman who raised some claim, ‘Gentlemen’s clubs are the root of political corruption!’, is that it? So she has already been eliminated from the picture.
Elderly gentleman with a blue ring: So we are one step closer to a purified society. As expected, the younger ones have quite some energy to spare.
Gentleman with round glasses: Goodness, no, I could hardly hold a candle to a long-standing member of this club and the Privy Council like yourself.
Gentleman in a plaid suit: And the purification of the East End recently was so amazing, my eyes might have come out of their sockets.
(There it is! ‘The purification of the East End’!)
Alfons: .........
My anxiety tensing me up, I exchanged a look with Alfons.
Gentleman with round glasses: That said, I did hear that the previous time, there was someone who had interfered and whatnot...
Elderly gentleman with a blue ring: That there was. As such we have decided to shift the location a little bit next time...
Elderly gentleman with a blue ring: So we have decided to punish the illegal immigrants of the Port of London [2] with the ‘eternal fire.’
​​Elderly gentleman with a blue ring: It will happen two days from now. We have already arranged for cleaners as well.
Gentleman with round glasses: I would expect no less from you.
(Did they just say they’re going to be punished... by an eternal fire...?)
Alfons: Hehe, now that there is one to gild the fact they plan to commit an arson.
(Arson…!?)
An indescribable fear shot through my body, causing me to tremble.
(If they really are holding such a cruel conversation…)
(...they were speaking so casually, I could hardly differentiate it between small talk.)
It was as though they didn’t feel at all that any of this was a bad thing.
Kate: ...Alfons.
Alfons: Indeed. It seems we have found our target to glean information from.
Alfons looked over at the server who had just served us, knocking lightly on the table.
Upon doing so, the server approached us without uttering a word.
(So Alfons knows how to act in a place like this as well...)
(I wonder if it’s because he had learned these things while living as a noble at Lord Elbert’s estate?)
At the slums and the pub, he seemed quite decadent and self-indulgent, while in a place like this, he showed a more refined demeanor.
They couldn’t be more different from one another, and yet I felt nonetheless they were both fitting for Alfons,
perhaps because he had experienced and wore both sides, making them as true as they came.
(I feel like I’ve learned yet another thing about Alfons.)
(...Not that I’m really happy about that or anything though.)
Saying something only to negate it right after had long become something like a habit of mine now.
Pulling on my own cheeks, which had unconsciously become relaxed, I looked on at the exchange between the server and Alfons.
Male server: How may I assist you?
Alfons: You see, I am interested in inviting that gentleman donning a blue ring over there to a dinner gathering next time...
A: As such, I was hoping you could be so kind as to tell what types of liquor he takes a fancy to.
Male server: Lord Goa [3], a member of the Privy Council, favors vodka martinis.
Alfons: Thank you for that.
Male server: Hardly. I’m simply glad I could be of assistance.
Thanks to the server, we were able to immediately glean the name of the target.
(...Lord Goa, member of the Privy Council...)
As long as they have a name, I imagine William and Victor would be able to glean all sorts of things about him from their network.
Kate: ...I must say I didn’t expect them to give away his name so easily like that.
Alfons: Well, this place is meant to encourage and spur on connections between members, but besides that...
Kate: Besides that?
Alfons: When we entered the lounge, I made sure to sneak in a tip that amounted to a sum a tad bit on the higher end, so there is also that.
(What the...!)
Kate: Is that not bribery...
Alfons: Heavens, no, I was simply compensating him in advance for the corresponding amount of information he gives.
When he answered me with nonchalance, he downed the remaining whisky in my glass before doing the same for his own.
(Did he just drink not one, but two glasses of such strong liquor!?)
Alfons: Alright, off we go.
Kate: Ah, right...
Alfons stood from his seat, and I followed after.
Kate: Did you really have to drink it all…
Alfons: I do have what one may call a ‘poor man’s mindset.’
That was what he said as he laughed, making my heart skip a beat once more… which was something I feigned ignorance to.
As we departed from the bar lounge, we moved to a place with no people around.
Kate: We have the name of the Privy Council member and information on the next incident, but what should we do now?
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K: If we at least can obtain some physical evidence… the police can be dispatched, right?
Alfons: That would be the case, I suppose.
Alfons seemed to be thinking about something as he looked out the window.
Those ashy gray eyes that reflected not even a single ray of light wavered, as though he were planning something.
Alfons: Sending letters containing orders in a place where other parties can enter and exit would be a show of a lack of caution, to be sure.
A: That’s why I imagine they wouldn’t use such means here, at least,
A: but if this hotel were to have something of a private service exclusively for VIP members,
A: a search through their storage room may bear some fruit.
And so, with a dexterity I just could not fathom, Alfons picked on many a lock,
until we were able to slip into the storage room, much like smoke.
(Alfons had said that ‘valuable goods of VIP members are often somewhere around here,’)
(but we have never even stepped foot in this place before, so how could he know something like that…)
Half of me couldn’t believe his words, but the room we had arrived at was very much a vault.
And with whatever tricks he had up his sleeve… he ended up unlocking the door there as well.
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[1] Just who did you learn this from?
[2] You’re quite skilled at this. (+4 / +4)
[3] That’s incredible!
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Kate: You’re quite skilled at this, aren’t you…
Alfons: Well, it’s hardly my first time doing so.
Kate: Don’t tell me you were formerly convicted for theft…?
Alfons: It’s quite a convenient skill to have, for a great many things too. Care for a lesson or two on the art of picking locks, Miss Kate?
Kate: Thanks, but no thanks!
(To so easily unlock the doors to the rooms and the vault…)
Kate: If you were a thief, though, you’d be regarded as the biggest of the century.
Alfons: Ahha! Now that title does hold a charming ring to it. Maybe this is a sign to start my journey to become one then.
Kate: Absolutely not.
I shut down that idea with a half-serious tone, and Alfons laughed wryly.
Alfons: Hehe, I jest. This level of skill is hardly enough to warrant such a title as the ‘biggest of the century.’ I only learned enough to be able to survive.
A: All that said, though, I did live off of Elbie’s money after meeting him for a while, so perhaps you could say in that sense I was a ‘thief’...
While searching the vault, though, his words suddenly trailed off.
Alfons: ——Ahh! Good heavens, just what have we here!
Kate: W-what happened!?
Alfons: We’ve hit the gold. Here it is, a confidential letter from the councilman Goa himself.
With one brow raised, Alfons nimbly handed me the envelope.
Its contents were completely sealed, and the envelope stated that it should be opened by the recipient themself.
(To think they’d keep it here of all places...)
Kate: ...They know no caution, I see.
Alfons: Well, we cannot just rule out the possibility this letter’s contents bear no relation to the incident in question. But in any case, let’s borrow this and book it out of here, yes?
A: We shouldn’t outstay our welcome here. My illusions aren’t able to hold long either, anyhow.
——Just then.
???: Who’s there!?
(——!)
When I looked back, a man who looked like a worker of the hotel was looking at us with surprise on his face.
(We’ve been found!)
Worker: We have intruders! Guards!!
At his shout, several heavy footsteps approached.
Alfons: Hmm, now this is quite a pickle, isn’t it. We’re not close enough that I can touch the back of their necks, so casting an illusion is out of the question as well.
Kate: How are you so laid-back in this situation!? We have to run, or... ah!
In my agitation, the letter that was in my hand slipped out.
(Oh no...!)
Alfons: ——Kate?
Kate: I have to get the letter!
Alfons: Wai——
I ran for the letter, lunging for it, when...
A dry bang! resonated in the room.
(Wh...)
With the letter now in my hand, I raised my head.
I was crouched down, while Alfons was holding me, as though concealing me from the door...
...but from over his shoulders, I could see how the guards were armed with guns.
And from the muzzle of the gun, smoke rose.
(That, just now... was that a gunshot?)
Alfons: ...This is why I say you are ever too serious.
A: Why so folly as to worry so much over a mere letter? Just leave it be.
Guard: Put your hands up!
Alfons: Yes, yes, as you wish.
Seeing him stand up and lift both hands in the air, I followed his actions in a panic.
(Seeing as there was a gunshot, that would mean... he was shot...)
(But, where...?)
Guard: ...Good.
The moment the guard seemed to relax as he lowered his gun...
Alfons: ——Miss Kate, we’re running.
(Huh...?)
He grabbed my hand, and before I could understand what was going on, he pulled my body.
Guard: Wh—!? W-wait...!
Evading the oncoming gunshots, we ran for the innermost door.
Through the hotel’s storage room, the restaurant kitchen, someone’s house, alleyways I was unfamiliar with...
Alfons maneuvered and ran through countless crossroads without an ounce of hesitation——
And when we jumped into an alley with no other people around, he burst into a hearty laughter.
Alfons: Haah... Ahahaha! Ahh, now that was simply the best, was it not?
A: Just where in the world are there intruders who quietly wait simply upon being told to do so?
A: That guard is about as useful as a chocolate teapot.
Kate: Haa... haah...!
(I-I’m glad that... we didn’t get caught, but...!)
Kate: This is no laughing matter!
When I thought about how a bullet could have hit, my body started trembling.
Alfons: Is it not? I find nothing strange about laughing at something comical.
A: Plus, we’ve got ahold of the suspect’s information, and we have obtained what could be physical evidence. So I would say our mission ended in a swimming success.
A: Oh, and the way you tried to act the role of a man, though ever so positively inept, was quite endearing as well.
Even when he was as talkative as ever, I still felt an unease in my chest.
No matter what he did, I couldn’t stop thinking about that gunshot.
(That distance, and his position. It wouldn’t be strange if Alfons was shot somewhere.)
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Kate: Alfons.
Alfons: Yes, what is it?
Kate: ...Show me your body.
to be continued…
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NOTES:
[1] Kate says [……ああ、ではいただこう] (aa, de ha itadakō). This is not normally how she speaks; she is actively trying to speak in a more ‘masculine’ manner. For example, [ああ] (aa) is like a ‘masculine’ way to say yes or affirm something. If she was using her normal speech, Kate would probably say something like [はい、では(遠慮なく)いただきます] (hai, de ha [enryo naku] itadakimasu).
[2] The actual text translates to the Port of London, but the furigana, or the apparent pronunciation, I believe is the Docklands of London, which is in the boroughs of Southwark, Tower Hamlets, Lewisham, Newham, and Greenwich.
[3] If there was a different way of spelling for this, [ゴア] (goa), I’d love to know.
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masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!
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spielzeugkaiser · 1 year
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How it started-
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How it's going!! They are a family and I am!!! also draw the hug you want to see in the show but they are forgiven because them meeting in brokilon was still soooo tender my HEART-
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lildudie18 · 1 year
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🐞 miraculous ladybug was ong the sole reason of me being a weird mf like I used to watch that shit once it aired in 69 languages since I was like 8 I'd stay up on fucking school nights too! Idk I've projected Marinette into myself like crazy I thought homegirl was the best mf ever for years 💯💯 🐞
🐞 Do NOT let ur kids watch miraculous don't even watch it at all. it's shit asf bro like us miraculers only watch out of spite ig wtf what I mean is we're USED to it if I started mlb like at my grown ahh age I would have never liked it - its so ass with zero development or writing it's like an actual example of wasted potential with all of these great characters tossed like that fr 🐞
🐞 Like I have other interests but I STILL watch miraculous fr even the bugs are miraculous coded 🐞
🐞 What liking miraculous ladybug does to a mf 🐞
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🐞 2020 ⬆️⬆️🐞
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🐞 2021 ⬆️⬆️🐞
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🐞 you guess ⬆️⬆️🐞
🐞 yeah I'm finna go sleep 🐞
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jvzebel-x · 2 years
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🦋
#as a rule it generally has always frustrated me that it very often feels like people are WILLFULLY misunderstanding&misrepresenting me#&occassionally it leads to fun past-times such as actively matching the level of intelligence generally expected from me-- none.#or matching whatever bland&one dimensional personality type i have been very obviously&typically tactlessly assumed to have.#but especially in regards to how nice i am as a default ive always had issues with negative backlash from it lmao.#like its a toss-up as to whether or not the assumption is that i'm too stupid w/ too little life experience#to understand that ppl are inherently evil&thus should be treated poorly&w/ as much suspicion as possible as a default-- lol#-- or that i'm being manipulative+fake &the kindness is surely just a front for nefarious intentions.#&like for the vast majority of my life ive primarily dealt w/ the former which is vaguely annoying but also a lot of fun to play around w/#until i've become too bored w/ the one-sided game to keep on playing it w/ ppl who have the overall depth of a shower floor#&the tact of a rabid wild boar only made worse by the continued assumption that im too stupid to understand that im being insulted.#but over the past few years the tides have shifted to the latter&like.#it took years of adjustment but i've finally perfected the art of actively disappearing in situations where its made clear#that my words&behaviors are being dissected for hidden meanings or malicious intent lmao.#truly the '... nah' philosophy has saved what little is left of my fucking sanity lmao.#it's officially the holiday season&i am already prepared to '... nah' my way straight the fuck into extremely comfortable isolation lol.#bc while i am more or less proud of having leashed my more vicious impulses it's still my first&strongest instinct#to take how bad someone thinks i am&to see how much lower i can go lmao.#when the assumption is that the worse that could happen is shattered kneecaps you take both the feet instead.#this is simply how i was raised lmao.#but in the interest of removing myself from that rather unhealthy cycle i am doing my best to just not engage when it happens.#... but fuck me if it doesnt feel like i'm being purposefully baited most times lmao.
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witchwhaat · 2 years
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my patience is being tested fr
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
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“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”
— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)
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GOJO SATORU:
satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.
truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.
he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.
that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”
you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”
“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.
you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.
you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”
he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”
you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.
your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”
his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”
“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.
NANAMI KENTO:
whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.
yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.
you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.
in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.
“y/n, would you like anything else?”
a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.
he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”
he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.
you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”
he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”
nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”
he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”
“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”
to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”
“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”
 “just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.
nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”
“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”
GETO SUGURU:
geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.
in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.
today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.
no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”
with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”
the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”
somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?
after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.
you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”
“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.
you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.
he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”
geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”
you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.
the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.
nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”
he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.
he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.
he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.
he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.
that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.
after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.
he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.
he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.
he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.
he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”
he feels a light kick against his palm.
his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”
as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”
“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”
sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”
you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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youryanderedaddy · 7 months
Note
can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?
Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗
tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming
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Gentle ~
You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?
But he does.
It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.
But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.
Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.
He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.
"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.
"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.
"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.
"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".
He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.
He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.
Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 
After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 
Mean ~
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.
Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.
But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.
You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 
“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”
It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.
If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 
If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 
“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”
He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.
He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.
“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”
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deebris · 3 months
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From annoying to beloved
Homelander x fem!Reader
Synopsis: The new member of the Seven annoys Captain Patria with their habit of doodling in the corners all the time, but he didn't expect to end up liking it.
During the fourth season, it can be read as both romantic and platonic.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of murder, the reader has the power to control plasma, fluffy.
The reader is also kind of anxious.
Word count: 2.9k
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"You gotta be fucking kidding with me." Homelander interrupted abruptly upon hearing snores in the room. "Is Noir sleeping?"
"Mmhmm," Firecracker murmured in agreement, but the masked superhero jolted awake when The Deep kicked his chair.
"Oh, shit! Sorry, guys." Black Noir straightened up, while the Captain shook his head in disbelief, unable to fathom what he had just witnessed.
"Ah, what the fuck." The blonde furrowed his brows, eyes darting around the room quickly, then fixing on a specific point when something else caught his attention. He had noticed you earlier with a notebook and pencil, but now you're not writing but drawing. The irritating sound of the graphite scraping against the paper had been bothering him for some time, but he had tried to ignore it, assuming as a newcomer you were taking notes.
He wouldn't lie. Though he found taking notes utterly stupid, he liked to think someone was that focused on what he said. Not that he needed it, just opening his lips and everyone would be watching him. But as if that weren't enough, he finally realized you were dressed in regular civilian clothes.
"Radiance, where's your suit?" He asked slowly, but angrily. "Can't anyone do anything right around here?"
You finally tore your attention from the paper, meeting Homelander gaze directly. It's not that you weren't paying attention—in fact, you were, maybe more than anyone else there. It was easier to absorb things while doodling, a way to calm your nerves. Well, that or rubbing your sweaty fingers together until they hurt.
No one ever understood. Even back in school, your parents used to receive complaints about you drawing during class, no matter how high your grades were or the fact that you were the top student.
This was your first meeting with the Seven, and the last thing you wanted was to give the impression of being careless or not caring about being there. It could be said that one of the best days of your life was yesterday when Vought sent you a notice, letting you know that the greatest superhero of all had personally chosen you to join the team. After so many "retarded" - in his words - he had been forced to accept into the Seven, Homelander saw in you, above all, the opportunity to make up for Firecracker's ridiculous weakness.
When Ashley began talking about your powers, he had no doubt the last spot was yours. It was simply brilliant. Who the hell would have imagined someone would have powers to control a state of matter? You could maneuver fire, generate electrical discharges, disrupt magnetic fields, and damn it, you could split atoms as if slicing butter.
Vought's scientists said they didn't know if it was possible, but you could destroy the damn out of a star one day. Homelander wasn't a science guy, but in one of his moments of boredom, he got curious and did some research. He didn't even know that plasma crap was all that, he thought it was a cell thing or whatever.
He always thought someone with a power as peculiar as yours, and at your age, would be arrogant or just plain dumb. But you were actually the complete opposite. You didn't speak unnecessarily, and while you seemed very aware of your own actions, you had no clue how powerful you were, or perhaps ignored that fact. The blonde thought you were an idiot for it, but he appreciated the inferiority you submitted to, especially in relation to himself.
"I don't have one, sir," you replied to his question, feeling small with everyone looking.
"What the hell?" He continued, focusing on you with incredulous voice, he couldn't believe it. How did someone end up here without even having a superhero suit?
The truth was, you had never been part of any team before, nor had you received any sponsorship during your life, or even attended Godolkin University. The only thing you had were your powers, which were indeed impressive. You never chased after any position, nor were you ever obsessed with being a famous superheroine, but lately you thought it would be a good adventure to radicalize your life. That's when you applied to join the Seven.
"How do you have a name and not have a fucking suit?" He asked, boiling with anger, fists clenching tightly behind his back.
"They gave me a name when I filled out the application," you answered honestly. That day, after they chose to call you Radiance, a random and easily commercial name, you couldn't complain much and didn't want to bother, so you left it at that.
"You'll be introduced as an official member of the Seven tomorrow, how do you not have a suit?" He took his hands off his back, moving them as he spoke to express his confusion, and for a few moments you followed it movement like a child who can't keep their attention on anything for long. "Who's handling your marketing?"
You couldn't answer, so you stayed silent and no one else dared to say a word either. You had no idea who was handling your marketing, not knowing you should even have that. You glanced quickly around the table, perhaps seeking some kind of help for the situation, but everyone looked down when they realized you were staring at them. They were enjoying themselves, and that made you exhale through your nose in embarrassment.
"You know what? Fuck it, doesn't matter." Homelander brought his fingers to his furrowed forehead, letting out a loud sigh as he calmed down. "Just... don't show up like this in public until someone gives you a suit."
"Yes, sir," you replied tensely, relieved that he had resolved the matter.
Sister Sage widened her eyes in relief when she finally saw the superhero sitting beside her. She opened her mouth to begin speaking, as she had intended from the beginning, but when some sound was about to come out of her mouth, Homelander spoke to you again, this time pointing an accusatory finger at you:
"And stop drawing, damn it," he ordered, causing you to slowly drop the pencil on the table, as if caught doing something wrong with the weapon of the crime in hand. You stared at your lap throughout the entire meeting, embarrassed for messing everything up on your first day.
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When the meeting ended, you followed most people out of the room, but stopped nearby in one of the hallways. You slid down the wall, crouching in a hidden corner, and lightly tapped the sketchbook against your forehead in annoyance.
"Stupid," you murmured softly to yourself. It was so ridiculous, yet it embarrassed you so much. Maybe this first day wasn't so bad after all. You would have plenty of time to prove your worth to everyone, no need to dwell on this situation. Even though you had been corrected in front of some of the most iconic supers by Homelander himself, this situation could be overcome. It was thinking about it that kept you from letting the burning tears fall.
"I can hear you whining," Homelander voice made you jump to your feet, startled to be caught once again doing something you shouldn't. He didn't seem happy, and his expression was so intimidating that you felt like Mariah Carey performing for a crowd of Eminem fans.
He approached you in slow steps and you held the sketchtebook protectively to your chest, as if that could protect you from something. He glanced down to briefly see the object in your hands and looked at you with disgust.
"If you don't straighten up, I'll kick you out. Got it?" Everything about him exuded threat. Maybe if he weren't so imposing and powerful, that sentence would have sounded a bit like the janitor from your old school scolding you for spending too much time in the bathroom during class.
You were paralyzed standing there and all you could do was a nod. But your gesture made him more aggressive.
"Answer with your mouth. Are you mute or something?" And there he was, hands behind his back again. He seemed to enjoy that pose.
"I won't mess up, sir," you said, swallowing your saliva.
"And get rid of that. Or burn it, do whatever, just get rid of it. And I better not see you with that again," he said referring to your notebook, walking away faster than before. "These kids..." you heard him mutter distantly.
After that happened, you didn't destroy the sketchtebook, but you were afraid of being caught and kept it safely tucked away in the back of a drawer in your room. What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right? You mentally made a promise to yourself not to use it anywhere else but here, to avoid causing more trouble.
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It's been a week since you've been with the Seven, and several strange things have happened. You quickly realized that Homelander wasn't the pristine and merciful hero everyone believed him to be. But the truth was that deep down you already expected that. Everything about heroes always seemed too perfect and pure, there had to be a catch. Despite everything, you still remained yourself, never intentionally hurting anyone or getting involved in murders and conspiracies.
You were comfortable helping out with some minor crimes that Vought sent you to solve, but by now you suspected that sooner or later Homelander would ask you to do some of his atrocities. It was still hard to think about how to feel about it, but you weren't naive, you were already mentally preparing to submit to it or else be killed.
During that time, as you adjusted and interacted with the team, it didn't go unnoticed by Homelander that you were drawing on your own hand, or on napkins and on random sheets you found lying around, even though you hadn't shown up with your sketchtebook again. This was starting to wear on his last nerve, but he tried to ignore it. As long stayed as you were, without asking too many questions and obedient, he made an effort to continue overlooking your makeshift drawings.
"Meeting's over," the blond suddenly declared, interrupting another of the Seven's weekly gatherings while cutting off The Deep's rambling about his ideas.
"But I haven't even talked about the flying shark yet," he tried to defend himself.
"Shut up," Homelander's voice rang out sternly in the room, issuing a warning that the man promptly obeyed.
"Right. Meeting's over." Ashley nervously moved to gather the portfolios on the new soda advertisement she had come to present, but as soon as she touched the first folder, specifically the A-Train one, the superhero exploded in rage:
"Ashley! Get out!" She immediately dropped the folder in place and hurried out in her heels, unable to run in them. "All of you! Get out of here."
Everyone got up from their chairs, even you, and filed out through the front door, leaving the folders on the table. Sister Sage hesitated, thinking she might be an exception, but when his scowl deepened, she understood she should leave too.
With the room empty, Captain Patria took a few minutes to admire the view from the tower. He enjoyed staring at it sometimes, even when bored.
"Bunch of idiots," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in denial, indignant. If he had to spend one more minute with these morons, he would have a heart attack, even though that was technically impossible for him.
He threw his cape back as he turned to leave, looking down and not focusing on anything in particular. But his eyes caught something different from the other folders. It was obviously yours, with a huge drawing covering the text and images printed on it.
That was the first time he actually saw something you had scribbled. And damn, it was perfect. It was a drawing of everyone in the room, with him in the center looking angry. Just as he was. His ego flared up as he noticed that his figure was more detailed than the others'. You must have started drawing him first, hence had more time to detail him. The idea of you making him the main focus of this particular drawing made his pupils dilate. He used his super hearing to check if anyone else was around and secretly took that sheet for himself.
The next time he saw you drawing in the Seven's room, he couldn't help but wonder if you were drawing him again. As soon as he noticed you sneakily reaching for a pen that belonged to Ashley, he looked in your direction. The noise that used to annoy him now sparked curiosity. And after staring at you for so long, it didn't take long for you to look back at him too. The blond thought you would be embarrassed, like most people, but you just grinned as if you were used to being caught looking. And indeed, you were.
You began drawing Homelander more frequently when you realized he never caught you watching him. It was easier and avoided awkward situations with other people. After two whole weeks of drawing him continuously while taking advantage of this freedom, you felt capable of drawing his face without even needing to see a photo, having memorized most of his distinctive features.
Well, it seems he's finally noticed you.
Sometimes, when alone in your room, you took out your sketchbook and started practicing the memory of his facial features you had developed. Just like every other time, you became absorbed in the drawing, focusing only on the voices around you to understand what was being said. This was also a way to keep yourself engaged during conversations, so you wouldn't get restless from being still while being a mere spectator of everything. After all, you never participated much or gave opinions; Deep already did enough for two.
The meeting had already ended, but you stayed in your chair, even as everyone else left, to finish just a part of the hair. You thought no one would mind, and then you would leave as usual, but a voice caught you by surprise:
"Can I take a look?" Homelander asked, for the first time, using a gentle voice beside you. His expression was enigmatic, somewhat relaxed, and shy at the same time.
You turned the stack of post-it notes, also taken from Ashley, for him to see what you had drawn, fearing what he would say. You weren't ashamed of drawing people, much less of them catching you doing it. You feared because he found your habit annoying.
He observed the drawing, seeing his posture from the side, upright and imposing. He wondered if you drew him exactly as you saw him, or if it was just another caricature of reality, like those Photoshopped pictures spread around. He looked much better than he imagined, though he had that superiority complex that made him see himself as a god.
For a moment, he was offended to see his image stamped on such despicable things as scraps of paper and these damn post-it notes. Your fingerprints were also visible stains, and the paper was slightly wrinkled from his sweat. He had noticed that sometimes you drew calmly, as if you had all the time in the world, and other times it was like drawing on a boat in a storm. Today seemed to be the latter situation.
"Do you like drawing me?" He glanced at you.
"I do," you shrugged. That was the simplest and most truthful answer you could give. "Sorry, I won't do it anymore," you said, thinking he was bothered by it.
"Why?" He ignored your apology.
"You're drawable... I guess," you stared at the table, not understanding the flow of the conversation.
"And what the fuck does that mean?" He asked in a louder voice, turning to face you, obviously confused. "Is this some artistic shit?"
"It's just that you're easy to draw because you have unusual characteristics. It's a good thing," was your answer, and it inflated his chest with narcissistic pride. Unusual, that's what you said, but to him, it was like being called extraordinary.
"Next time you draw me, try using a sketchbook," he said sternly, pretending to reject your work, but deep down, he just didn't want to show that he really liked it. That statement was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the same time, it was so ironic, considering he got mad at you just when you were drawing him in the sketchtebook that day.
"But you asked me to get rid of mine," you said simply, your voice dwindling with each word of the sentence, not wanting him to find out that you had never thrown it away.
"I'll get you a new one," he said dismissively, taking the entire stack of post-it notes with him, including the drawing, as if you wouldn't notice.
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gojoest · 10 months
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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru
MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)
a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡
side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )
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what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.
after all, it’s how he made you his as well.
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“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.
“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.
“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”
“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”
“hey, hey. slow down there”
“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”
it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.
satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.
it didn��t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.
“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.
“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.
truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.
as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.
“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”
you raised an eyebrow, questioning.
“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”
wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.
“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.
“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.
“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”
you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…
“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”
by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.
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“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.
“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.
“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.
“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.
“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.
you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.
“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”
“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.
“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.
“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.
“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”
“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.
“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.
“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.
“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.
“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”
“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.
“really?”
“really.”
“anything?”
“anything.”
“you promise not to go back on your word?”
“i promise.”
he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.
“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”
to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.
“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.
“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”
“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.
“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.
“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”
you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.
“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.
satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.
“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.
you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.
“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.
“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.
you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.
you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.
“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.
“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.
you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.
his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.
you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”
his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.
the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.
you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.
“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”
“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”
“yes”
“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”
“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”
“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.
“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”
“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”
“yea? am i not?”
“children”, he stresses.
“oh.”, it finally hits you.
“one more to go”
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hannieehaee · 10 months
Text
TOO MUCH
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18+ / mdi
summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.
content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 7.9k
a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread
masterlist
support me through a one-time tip! <3
Your back was killing you.
It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.
Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.
Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.
He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.
"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.
You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.
You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.
You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.
However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.
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"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.
"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"
If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.
"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"
"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."
"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.
He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"
This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.
"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."
"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.
"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.
"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.
You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.
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You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.
You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.
"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.
Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.
You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.
"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.
"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.
"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').
To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.
"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.
"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."
"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"
"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.
"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"
To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.
~
Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.
"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"
"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..
The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.
The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.
His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.
You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.
The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.
You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.
"So, what did you think?"
"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."
"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.
You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.
Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.
"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.
He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.
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A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.
You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.
You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.
"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.
"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."
"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.
"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.
"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."
"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"
Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.
You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.
"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"
"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.
You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.
'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.
Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.
You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.
"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"
"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"
"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.
He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.
Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.
"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.
"Cheol ..." you whined.
"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."
You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.
"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.
He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.
"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."
The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.
Then he threw you yet another curveball.
He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."
You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.
He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.
"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"
He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.
He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.
"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"
You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.
You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.
Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.
"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.
"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.
You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.
"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"
You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.
"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.
He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.
All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.
"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.
"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.
You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.
He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.
He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.
He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.
"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.
"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.
Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.
Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.
He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"
"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.
With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.
"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.
"Cheollie!"
"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"
It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.
"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.
"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."
"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.
He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.
"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."
"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.
"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.
"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.
a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area 😭
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inkskinned · 10 months
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it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.
i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.
when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.
on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.
we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.
i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?
how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.
last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.
i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.
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mioons · 23 days
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‎ LALALA OKOKOK ✦ 甜心女友
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ᐢ..ᐢ okokok enha with a lalala gf ✿ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝓁𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗑 𝒻𝖾𝗆. 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⟢ ( 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ) . . 526 ⟡
EN— | 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 ♥︎ CLiCK
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LEE HEESEUNG
heeseung wasnt the nicest nor the most friendly person to meet. he doesn’t talk much nor does he have much friends. but due to his good looks he often had girls fawning over him or receiving love letters in his locker.
it annoyed him; that was until he met you
his little ray of sunshine that could never make him annoyed, his favourite girl that could never make him sad, and his darling, who always cheered him whenever he was feeling agitated.
“baby stop it..” he'd mumble, though his actions say otherwise; his hands were at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him.
“says the one that won’t stop kissing me.”
“oh shut up.”
PARK JONGSEONG
jay isn’t the person you’d go to to ask for homework tips or to ask for help for. it’s just the way he stares at people and his dark voice that scares them off.
but when he’s with you, his whole demeanour changes. one might even wonder if he has an identical twin because the way he acted around you wasn’t very “jay park” of him.
sometimes he’d be nuzzling his nose against the crown of your head while you talked to your friends, or he could even be seen smiling and laughing at the jokes you made.
you were the bubble in his life he never wanted to pop, bringing colour to his days and a smile on his face.
SIM JAEYUN
calling him scary was an understatement. he only had two facial expressions, one for when he was bored and the other for when he was annoyed. honestly you can just lump them up together and nobody could tell the difference.
that was until your sweet and kind self showed up into his life, or rather barged into his life, is what he’d like to call it.
ever since you came into his life, he finally knew how to smile without being forced to. he knew how to wrap his arms around you and pepper kisses all over your face. you were the only exception and the only victim to his affection.
not that any of you minded anyway.
PARK SUNGHOON
he didn’t gain the title of “ice cold prince” for nothing. he didn’t bat an eye to the girls who gushed about him constantly, nor did he pay any mind to the teachers who complimented him on his performance in school. nobody could really find it in themselves to joke around with him, simply because he was too scary.
to them at least. with you, he was like a lovesick puppy, always following you around. he was used to compliments from others, never really seeking them out; however, when he was around you, he always asked you whether he did well or if he looked handsome.
“hey princess, do i look good today?” he’d ask while burying his face into the part where your neck meets your shoulder.
“what kind of question is that? you’re so silly,” you’d giggle and card your fingers through his hair.
“cmon.. just answer the question.”
“fine fine! you look absolutely adorable and handsome today, my hoonie.”
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taglist ╱ @flwrstqr @wonsdoll @won4kiss @dioll @tzyunaes @suneng @jakesangel
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snailpebbles · 1 month
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Simple Misunderstanding- OP81
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Best Friend! reader
Summary: You couldn't both be this stupid right..? Oscar is telling you you're dating, but he never even asked you out.
Pure fluff, absolute idiots in love <3
⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚
You and Oscar have been best friends since highschool when he (not surprisingly) was on the verge of failing Physics from missing so many tests. Since those tutoring sessions you've been inseparable.
You've always had a thing for him, which you would deny until your death that hopefully takes place beside him, Bicentennial Man style. The problem is.. he's a world famous Formula One driver and you're what? Still studying for your degree? No, you could never deserve this sweetheart of a man. Even if you style his hair most days and he rubs your back to help you fall asleep. Just friendly things.
Now we're brought to your current predicament.
"What're you doing..?" Oscar mumbles out in confusion as you begin to lift your head from where it rested on his chest. You freeze on the spot, peering up at him from below his chin.
"Uhm.. getting up?" You whisper for no real reason, suddenly feeling like a caught child. Oscars eyebrows furrow and he pushes your head back down while muttering a quiet yet firm 'no'.
"Wha- what do you mean 'no'?" You scoff, feeling more akin to an annoyed teen now. You go to lift yourself up properly but now his arms, previously wrapped around your waist and rubbing your back, are anchoring you down.
"Stay." He simply says, his eyes closing as he plans to return to his half asleep state. Those plans are interrupted as your hands wiggle down to tickle his sides. He yelps and releases you on instinct, which you take as a chance to launch out of bed.
"What are you doing??" Oscar groans, groggily sitting up now with a petulant pout. You return the question, hands on your hips as you stare at his sleepy form.
"I'm trying to cuddle my girlfriend." Oscar huffs, crossing his very muscular arms. Silence stretches between the two of you, making Oscar actually open his eyes fully to take in your extremely shocked expression.
"What's that look for?" He asks, reaching for your right hand in a need to hold some part of you. You let him as you're still trying to understand what exactly he just said and if he's on drugs.
"Girlfriend?" You choke out, your mind going a million miles per hour as you sputter, matching your racing heart. Oscar raises his eyebrow at you like you're an idiot.
".. Yes. You're my girlfriend? For quite some time now?" He chuckles, standing up now. His arms wrap back around your waist as he smiles fondly at you, you. Are you dreaming? Maybe your heart is giving out.
"Since uh, since when am I your girlfriend?" You stammer in disbelief, his expression shifting to mirror yours. His head tilts in confusion, squinting at you.
"Did you hit your head or something?" He murmurs, lifting a hand to jokingly check your scalp for any bumps. By this point you must be burning up with how warm you feel.
"We're not dating." You manage to get out finally, Oscars hand pausing mid caress. It slides down to cup your cheek, his mouth now downturned.
"Yeah we are- we've been together for months now." Oscar shrugs, squishing your face in his hands. He shakes your head side to side and you laugh, placing your hands over his as you ask what he's doing.
"Trying to shake those screws back into place." He teases, rolling his eyes.
"I think I should be doing that to you. You've never asked me out before, so where did this come from?" You chuckle, not able to feel that stressed in his presence and especially not when he's cradling you like you're a precious diamond. (Which to him, you are). Oscar laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
".. I have to ask??" He mumbles, making you snort in laughter. Your head drops, forehead pressed to his shoulder as your own shake in silent giggles. Oscars face, neck, and ears are bright red at this point as he stammers, trying to save face.
"Yes! You have to ask! How did you even think otherwise?" You snicker, rolling your eyes affectionately at your oblivious boy. Oscar smiles in embarrassment, looking off to the side. Though it isn't long before his eyes are drawn back to the irresistible sight in front of him. You're practically glowing with an unrealized joy, your subconscious recognizing your returned feelings.
"I just assumed cause you- well-" He sighs, groaning at his own stupidity. A grin spreads across your face and you tap his cheek, bringing his focus out of his head.
".. I don't know." He finally admits, pout returning full force. It's a beautiful sight to see the typically stoic or calm Oscar looking so flustered, just for you. It sends a thrill down your spine that you're quickly becoming addicted to.
"We've never kissed or had sex, or honestly anything besides cuddling!" You exclaim, very glad to have such fantastic teasing and blackmail material that will last you years to come. Just wait until Lando finds out.
"I thought you wanted to take it slow, so I never initiated anything." Oscar explains, his cheeks a delicious shade of red. You have to take a moment to appreciate the sight and snap out of the daze it puts you in.
"Well how about you ask me out then now, hm?" You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek that short circuits his brain and yours. The goofiest grin spreads across his face and he drops to one knee, grasping your hand in his.
"Will you, my dearest love, do the honor of allowing me to be your boyfriend?" Oscar asks dramatically, taking a moment to swoon. Seeing him at such an angle, regardless of his stupidity, you still need to drink in the sight of the brunette boy on his knees. For you. Asking you out after years of pining.
God it is beautiful.
"Hmm.. yeah, sure." You shrug, feigning nonchalance even though you're internally squealing. Oscar stands up, putting his hands on his hips in a sassy display. He grins, a mischievous grin which you quickly realize is not something you wanna see.
"Oscar no-" Your sentence barely gets out before you're tackled on the bed, face being peppered by soft kisses. It tickles, giggles erupting from your lips as he murmurs incoherently against your skin. You're a mess of limbs, your leg is already going numb, and you've never been happier as your hands inch up to play with his hair.
"You're missing." You manage to say in between giggles and over the top kissing noises from the boy on top of you. He finally relents, holding himself up on his forearm beside your head.
"Oh really? Wanna show me where to go?" Oscar murmurs, his breath fanning across your awaiting lips. You mumble some teasing jab about boys always needing directions, making him tickle your sides to shut you up.
"Okay, okay I give up!" You laugh, pushing at his hand. He stops tickling you and as soon as you've caught your breath, his lips are on yours. They're warm, slightly chapped, and oh so perfect. He kisses like you're the finest food on Earth and it's his last meal. Both of your heads feel fuzzy as you pull away for some air, noses bumping and mutual giggles filling the silence.
"So.. wanna go back to sleep?" You suggest, the very short yet aggressive emotional rollercoaster exhausting you once more. Oscar nods eagerly, head collapsing to rest in your neck where he occasionally kisses the skin his lips can reach. A warm feeling spreads over you as you tug the blanket across your tangled bodies, dozing off into the most restful sleep of your life.
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angelsheartts · 6 months
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୭ JEALOUSY ˚. ᵎᵎ ~
#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, angel dust, husk, valentino, vox, x gn reader.
#cw: jealousy?, +18 in valentino's/vox's part, suggestive content ig, cuss words lmao.
#notes: u guys don’t know how much i wanna know why lilith made a deal with adam, and how could she even fumbled lucifer.
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⋆.ೃ- LUCIFER .
i don't think lucifer gets jealous easily, at least, but if he is jealous, he will surely become reallyyyy clingy and will try to show off. i mean, he's the sin of pride, after all.
being the partner of the king of hell really meant that there would always be people staring at you, even ones who had no shame at all and would flirt with you, sometimes even in front of lucifer.
"would you mind if I bought you a drink, sweetheart?" a powerful overlord asked you, making lucifer raise an eyebrow and look at the overlord with one of his annoyed characteristics expressions, and before you could even reply anything, lucifer had already bought you both the whole menu of drinks while clinging onto you. "do you think this is enough for you, (name)?" he asked, making the overlord stop bothering you both and making you gasp a soft sigh, knowing he did all of this with such an innocent face, as if he wasn’t getting annoyed just a second ago.
⋆.ೃ- ADAM .
his ego is too big for him to even consider the idea of being jealous, but boy, does he want to get rid of the fucking asshole who is talking to you.
even though you were adam's third wife/adam's first husband, you were nice to being around. not like your husband, who always made snarky comments about everything and everyone.
sometimes, though, people would flirt with you without you noticing, making your husband really irritated and dragging you away while flipping off the angel who initially flirted with you and making some snarky remarks about them. "(name), that bitch was literally fucking you with his eyes! you should have called me before, next time make sure to be around me, got it?" adam called out, making you giggle since his insults were sometimes so unexpected.
⋆.ೃ- ALASTOR .
alastor is the kind of guy who wouldn’t get jealous; maybe once an extermination you would see him acting a little possessive over you, but really, this guy knows your soul belongs to him, so why would there be a need to feel jealous?
actually, only your friends at the hazbin hotel where the only ones who knew about your relationship with alastor; it made sense, since he knew you could get in danger if someone else found out.
that didn’t meant that angel dust wouldn’t take the opportunity to flirt with you as a joke while trying to get a reaction from you. "(name), i think you would get pretty popular if you started to appear on my films" he said jokingly to you, while alastor just looked at him with his usual smile "i don’t think that (name) would want to get involved in that kind of stuff, angel dust, isn’t that right, dear?" alastor answered, kissing your cheek, and leaving you speechless since he mostly kept his affection for when the both of you where alone.
⋆.ೃ- ANGEL DUST .
for me, he may get jealous depending on who's hitting on you; if it’s some random imp, it won’t really bother him; he will just tell them to fuck off themselves and leave you alone, but if it’s someone like valentino, oh boy, he acts VERY different.
angel dust didn’t really like you being in the porn studios were he works, because he knows that valentino is waiting to say anything to you, and because he simply thinks you don’t belong in a place like that. he thinks you’re much better working at the hazbin hotel or wandering around the pride ring.
"(name), aren’t you a supportive one? you know that if you want, i could make you a star lik-" "val, we're on set soon" angel dust spoke, looking angrily at valentino. "well, looks like your little boyfriend doesn’t want me to talk to you; i’m sure we’ll have plenty of time the next time," valentino whispered, making you stand there awkwardly.
as you both were finally at the hazbin hotel, anthony asked you not to come next time, since he really didn’t want valentino talking to you ever again. "(name), you know i really don’t want to get you in trouble, and you know that outside of the studio we can do whatever the fuck we want, but still, thanks for the snack you brought." he said, smirking, and letting you cuddle into his arms like you always do after an exhausting day.
⋆.ೃ- HUSK .
husk would only get jealous or, well, mostly, frustrated if someone interrupted you both, like if you both are just having a wholesome moment and someone just steals your attention from him, he’s a cat after all AND will be grumpy afterward.
you were having a nice chat with husk while having a drink at his bar, but as he was explaining you something, alastor came along and asked you something between the lines of 'if you had seen charlie or vaggie' since he had to talk to them about some business about the hazbin hotel.
after alastor left, you turned to look at your partner, noticing how he had been growling this entire time. it wasn’t really loud, though. "tsk, that radio demon really needed to ruin the atmosphere," he said, making you give him a look "what? you know, i dislike the idea of him thinking that he can just do whatever he pleases with my stuff." hearing your partner's words, you knew you had to reassure him that even though alastor had interrupted you both, your attention was still set on him and no one else.
⋆.ೃ- VALENTINO .
he’s valentino, he surely and kind of obviously gets jealous whenever you’re talking to someone that isn’t him.
the workers in the studio know that since you worked there, you've only filmed with valentino; nobody questions why, and nobody really cares whatever reason their boss has to not let you fuck with others.
today, though, a worker intended to jokingly flirt with you. "(name), i think that if we make a video together, even the most pure souls would want to watch it" oh, well, that wasn’t even a little funny to valentino.
"such a slut for me, mmh? you really thought my sweet (name) would even think about fucking with you?" valentino smirked, while thrusting into you. he had his eyes set on the demon who flirted with you, not even caring about the fact that he was on set.
⋆.ೃ- VOX .
this man has the same jealousy problems, or even worse, than valentino. he's actually such an attention whore, so he obviously would despise everyone who tries to flirt with you.
actually everyone who works for the vees knows how jealous vox is, and that’s because this is a situation that often happens: if someone is even looking at you a little longer than usual, he will become insecure and try ANYTHING he can so he can have your attention on him. like i mentioned, he’s an attention whore.
today, the outfit that velvette chose for you might have made some people stare back at you. i mean he can’t judge them; you looked so fucking good in it, but hell does he want to have you all by himself, so what does he does? take you to his office so he can have you all by himself.
"(name)," he mutters while keeping his hands all over your body. "you knew what you were doing, huh? making everyone stare at your body, but i’m such a good partner for not making a fuss about it, right?" he asked, waiting for you to atleast praise him, 'cause like a already mentioned he’s an attention wh- lmao.
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loveinhawkins · 2 months
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The sun is annoying Steve Harrington. Eddie knows this because the blinds in English class are notoriously shitty—have been ever since David C yanked the cord, so the sun always manages to get through the gaps.
Steve is squinting against it, the glare shining right in his eyes. Eddie can’t figure out why he doesn’t just move; he’s watched Steve battle with the blinds throughout the class, but it didn’t change much, no matter which way they were tilted.
Now Steve’s just stuck with a permanent frown, like he’s accepted his fate—or maybe he’s preparing for a grand finale, Eddie muses, not very seriously, like maybe the blinds should be writing their last will and testa—
“Dude, what’s your problem?”
It’s murmured so the substitute’s none the wiser. Still, the lack of volume doesn’t detract from the tone: Steve’s gone from annoyed to royally—ha ha, Eddie thinks stupidly—pissed off.
He considers replying with false pity, Oh, Harrington, I’ve got too many problems to count, but for some reason he can’t muster up enough energy for the performance. He manages a quip all the same, muted as it is—he’s got no desire to get detention again.
“Nothing. Just wondering if you’re gonna set fire to the blinds.”
Surprisingly, Steve laughs—or he laughs as much as someone can when they’re supposed to be silently reading. He gives a rueful look to the offending window, and it’s a damn shame really, that the sun’s making him squint, because otherwise his eyes would be all lit up and—woah, absolutely not, stop that train of thought right there.
“I’m this close, honestly,” Steve says, showing just how close he is with his thumb and forefinger.
And perhaps it’s simply the way he does it, the genuine flash of his grin, like he’s not worried about what he looks like; maybe the contrast makes Eddie realise that he’s been kinda serious for a while now, frowning even when the sun isn’t in his eyes.
What are you thinking about?
The question’s crossed Eddie’s mind more than once: chance sightings in the cafeteria, as the Nancy Wheeler love story came and went—but they still smile at each other, so it can’t be just that; his gut keeps telling him there’s something more, something he’s not…
But it’s none of his business, and he doesn’t know Steve like that, not nearly enough to ask.
So he tilts back in his seat, holds a book aloft like he’s trying for a Tony. In the newfound shade, Steve rolls his eyes with amusement, “You’re gonna fall.”
“You wish, Harrington,” Eddie says.
A few seconds more, and the teacher’s gonna notice, will snap at Eddie to read his book instead of waving it about.
But for now, all that matters is Steve’s smiling instead of frowning.
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