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#although it is pink. and pink is a pretty color. it's all about colors
fairyrcts · 3 days
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dreams, fairytails, fantasies , n.d.
by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , use of y/n , unprotected sex (not recommended) , cursing , praising , semi-public sex , male masturbation , virginity loss (not mentioned) , mommy kink , overstimulation, breeding
(an - ik y'all said you wanted chris fic first but i was too eager to write the nate one)
y/n walked up and down the rows of seats as she tidied up after the hockey game.
her father was the coach, so she always stayed later after the games to pick up anything left behind and help her dad with whatever he needed.
she'd bent down to pick up a foam glove that was left. her light blue mini skirt rode up her thighs as she reached down.
nathan, who was taking off his gear in the bench area, had thought everyone including y/n had left.
he'd always see her with her dad during the pre-game pep talks, sometimes she'd sit and watch them at practice, or just cleaning up after everything had been finished.
although the only thing he knew about the girl was her name and father's name, he had the biggest crush on her.
he'd glance over at her in her skirts and lacy tops or tight, soft colored dressed that made him want a taste of every curve on her body. her innocence and naivety made him want him for himself even more.
unknown to him, y/n had a slight thing for him too.
when he'd take off his helmet and his hair would stick to his forehead as he panted. or when he'd take his jersey off after playing and he'd be left in his white tanktop, his mucles shining due to the sweat.
she'd direct her gaze towards him every time she'd watch the team play or practice. seeing him get sweaty and angered out on the ice had to be one of the most attractive things ever.
nathan stood up with his skates and pads in his hands. he walked out of the closed in area and into where the seats were. he glanced around for a sec before his eye's landed on y/n.
she was bent over, picking up things from the floor. her skirt was way up and her pink lacy panties caught his attention.
he was in a state of shock for a moment as he stared at the unaware girl in front of him.
he walked closer, deciding to speak to her.
"hey, y/n. i didn't know you were still here. your dad here still?" nathan spoke in breathy tone, causing y/n to whip around.
"hm? oh, yeah. no, he left a little bit ago but there was still stuff to be cleaned up. you did really good by the way. my dad says you're pretty talented." she gave him a toothy smile as she talked to the brunette.
nathan's grin became wider as those words came out her mouth. "thank you, really."
"yeah, anytime. well, i'll be here for a bit longer, so if you need anything just let me know." she was a very generous person.
generous enough to help with the ache in his pants? no, no, he shouldn't be thinking that stuff.
"will do. nice seeing you." he reciprocated her smile and made his way toward the locker room.
nate immediately yanked his clothes off, tughing his pants off as quick as possible.
he sat on the bench in the locker room as he pulled his boxers down to his ankles. his tip leaked pre-cum, it dripping down his length.
he balled his hand into a fist and began stroking himself. he was so sensitive just his own touch caused him to moan out loudly.
he let a line of drool leave his mouth and onto his dick. "mm, fff-uck, y/n. i- holy shit, keep goin'."
he imagined y/n's mouth on his cock, her throat stuffed and her lips puffy from his length.
y/n finished cleaning the bleachers and made her way towards the garbage can that sat beside the entry to the mens locker room.
she threw away all the trach she'd collected and was getting-ready to leave til' she heard her name being called.
"mm, y/n. jjust like that, yes ma'am."
she tightened her thighs together to keep her mind away from the wetness in between them.
she cracked the door open slightly, nate's head turning the second he heard the creak of the hinges.
"i- i'm sorry, i didn't know you were in here. sorry." her words were rushed as she shut her eyes abruptly.
nathan panicked to get his boxers back on. "no, shit. no, uh, youre good."
"uh, were you calling me?" she asked, her voice unintentionally innocent as she opened her eyes slightly. her eyes went wide at the sight of his dick, fully visible from his boxers, a small wet stain were his tip sat.
"uh, nope. wasn"t callin' ya. must've been like, uh. i dunno." nate's eyes looked everywhere but her as if trying to take away the attention.
y/n let out a soft giggle at the sight of him awkwardly trying to end the damn conversation. "i mean, it's alright. you're not very quiet. do you, uh.. need some help?"
her tone sent aches through his body, his cock pulsing through his underwear. "i-i, i'm sorry? say what now?!"
she chuckled once more at his stuttering voice. "c'mon, just sit back. let me show you."
nate thought he was living one of his own fantasties as he wobbled back onto the bench beneath him.
y/n undid the bow in the back of her shirt and pulled down the skirt she wore with it. she was left in her bra and panties, which she took off slow and seductively.
she now stood naked in front of the brunette boy. nathan's eyes just stared at her as he was frozen and stiff. if you squint, you could see his dick get even harder under his boxers by the second.
she scooted closer to him. "wanna take it off for me?" her voice was low as she played with the waistband of his underwear.
"i-yup." his obedience was so attractive. she knew he'd listen well.
he quickly yanked them off before sitting back on the warm bench.
y/n straddled him, his dick not in her cunt quite just yet. she began sucking on his neck to get him just a bit more excited before finally letting her hips move down onto his soaked cock.
the sound of her dripping pussy and his absolutely messy cock made nate's mind fuzzy.
he let out a loud, guttural moan at the new feeling. "holy fuck, mommy- fuck! i-"
he couldn't even form a coherent sentence just one pump in.
"just relax. i've got you." her words were hushed as she whispered into his ear.
she slowly moved her body up and down his length, going all the way off and back on him each time.
the feeling of her tight cunt on his absolutely aching dick was already too much for him.
"mo-mmy, no, please keep goin'."
y/n couldn't say no to her handsome boy. happily, she obligiged, bouncing herself up and down on his dick.
after only a few minutes, nate was so close. "fffuck, i c-can't no more. pleasepleaseplease."
"nuh uh, you can keep going, be a good boy for mommy , hmm?"
her voice sent him over the edge. he just couldn't anymore. he needed to release and make a mess inside of her.
"pleaseee, i need to. i-i've been good!"
he had behaved and listened fine the whole time. she debated wether or not to let him or have more of her own fun.
she ultimately chose to let him for his benefit. she'd enjoyed teasing the boy enough.
"mhm, go ahead." and almost instantly, he came all inside her. the moan he let out was louder than before as he let his juices release in the girl's pussy.
"goody boy." she whispered softly in his ear before she stood up, nate wincing lightly.
"b-but, i didn't get to make you feel good."
"some other time, baby."
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rubykgrant · 3 days
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I finally figured out the new version for the design of my musical super hero! She's part of the group of hero and villain kids I've been playing around with for about 16 years (dang). I started the story with my best friend, and the characters have all gone through a LOT of changes, but because I've had them so long, I sort of know how to keep the core of who I wanted them to be~
(also, thanks to some of my friends for giving me some suggestions on her look in the past! @v-voeux and @bonkalore I appreciate it~)
As a regular kid, Min is 14 years old, a new student at school. She's a social butterfly, who is also very smart and creative (her main talents are music and fashion, but she also takes gymnastics and ballet). She's studied a lot of classical instruments, but she also has a passion for modern styles of music, so her personal taste is very broad. Min participates in a lot of talent shows. chorus groups, and plays. She makes her own fashion designs, for herself and people she knows well. Her signature outfit has a little bit of an 80s-vibe; loos short-sleeve shirt tied at the side (with a rainbow of sunset colors), over a seafoam colored jumper dress, dusty-blue leggings, and pink shoes (her favorite colors are pink and different shades of blue/turquoise). Her hair is black (with a rosie-brown shine), cut in a bouncy-bob, with two little pink hairclips. She has a pink bracelet on one wrist, and a pale-pink scrunchie on the other. Min is chubby, but also very athletic.
Her fun personality makes it easy for people to be drawn to her, but she's very aware of how fickle and fleeting popularity is when people become demanding... and then get upset when you aren't what they want you to be. Although she's sweet with a pretty face, Min is perfectly comfortable confronting people who try to boss her around, and isn't afraid of rejection (this also goes for teachers; she's a straight-A student, but pushes back when adults try to put pressure on her to succeed). At first glance, she's a bubbly and cute, and while that isn't UNtrue, Min is also subtly tenacious, capable of deep thoughts and emotional insight, and very self-assured. She truly values real friendship, and loves making the people she cares about happy with fun activities. She's also very good at being motivational and encouraging.
Her mother is Chinese, and her father is Japanese, both working with animals (for years, they've been doing wildlife studies and rehabilitation, meaning they've moved around often, visiting different places. recently, they've started working with a zoo and an emergency animal care facility). Her aunt (father's sister) is recently divorced and living with them, with her two sons (Min herself is an only child, but gets along well with her cousins). She can be flirty at times, but isn't interested in anything serious yet. She casually dates, but because she's always nice, nobody feels too upset when she kindly lets people down/ends a relationship (when she gets a little older, she figures out she's polyam, ace, and attracted to any gender identity; she uses the pan flag because she likes the color combo~).
When she begins to develop super powers, Min discovers she can literally create "musical energy"; turning sounds into something with a shape. She can do anything from snapping her fingers to send out a chock-wave, or creating vibrations in the air that take the form of a musical instrument (interacting with it, and using it for attacks or defense). Things around her that involve music/sound can also be influenced by her (such as radios, or loud bells in towers). She can manipulate sound to isolate a specific noise, use echolocation, imitate another person's voice voice, and translate any language she hears. Because music can have an emotional response, she also has powers that follow "musical rules"... that is, breaking into song, and having her friends join in, literally has an effect on reality (she often provides mood music when the hero group needs some motivation while fighting various bad guys).
She has an affinity for butterflies, so she creates little wings made of the pink musical energy, letting her fly like a fairy (they aren't connected to her, instead floating behind her back, and disappear when she isn't flying). Min designs her own outfit, as well as the ones the other hero kids wear. Hers is similar to a marching band uniform, a dark pink vest and shorts that are cuffed. Part of the vest is a pale-gray, with lines styled to look like a violin. Her leggings are also pale-gray, with two different patterns (one leg has vertical stripes that look like piano keys, the other leg has thin horizontal stripes that look like sheet music). She has dark pink boots with little butterfly designs on the toes/heels. Her shoulders have short butterfly sleeves, and the vest also has a pattern of musical notes with butterfly wings at the edge, Min's super her symbol. She has the same shape made out of the musical energy as a headphone/mic. Her mask is shaped like a butterfly as well. Min's hair is more curled, and pulled up in a side-ways ponytail, with one final butterfly clip.
In the past, I've had Min's hero design look like a simple "super hero swimsuit" with pink butterfly sleeves, and I've also had versions with a skirt so she has more of a classic magical girl look... but I wanted to really try for something more unique, make the music theme very clear, include her butterfly designs, and also make it a little more sporty~
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outlying-hyppocrate · 10 months
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really just said "the walls are the color of ambrosia salad"
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stervrucht · 2 months
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Eddie likes messing with his friends.
Call it a love language if you will.
Messing with Steve is a special form of entertainment, but only because Eddie still hasn’t figured him out. With most people, he knows just how to push their buttons. 
Steve Harrington is different.
He’s a little too perfect maybe, with his good looks and his rich parents. And it’s totally unfair that Steve is actually a nice guy and a fucking badass to boot.
If there is a god, he sure wasn’t very fair with his Ability Scores on this one.
So yeah, Eddie doesn’t have a lot to work with and Steve is apparently hard to phase. Eddie teases him; is a little mean about it just to get a rise out of him. And really, it’s a form of endearment. He does it to everyone he likes well enough.
Only Steve doesn’t really respond all that much. The best Eddie can do so far is a little scoff, and he figures it’s probably Dustin’s fault—that kid has a serious mean streak. By now, Steve’s tongue is sharp like a sword on a wetstone. He can bounce insults back with the same energy with which they are received, and although Eddie is endlessly entertained by it, it doesn’t yield the desired results.
He wants Steve riled up. 
It isn’t until Eddie says something nice—something he actually means—that Steve is left speechless and flustered. 
He likes that much more than a snarky back-and-forth. 
And it clicks something in his brain—unleashes something much worse than Steve has seen of him before. 
Eddie can’t stop praising Steve. 
“You’re doing so well.”
“You’re so good for me.”
And Steve flushes that pretty pink color every time.
Yes, Eddie likes it much better this way. 
That Steve Harrington can’t take some praise without popping a boner.
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mingigoo · 7 months
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look after you || k.hj (m.)
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🩺 pairing ⇢ nurse! (fem) reader x struggling musician! Hongjoong
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🩺 synopsis ⇢ after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...
🩺 genre/au ⇢ enemies to lovers (kind of), some angst, smut, fluff, hospital au
🩺 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, injury, car accident, hospital scenes, unprotected sex, undefined relationship, mention of possible suicide attempt, Hongjoong is a scruffy underground musician, trauma with touch, tattoo!joong, grumpy sunshine, cum shot, biting, teasing
🩺 word count ⇢ 10.3k
🩺 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
masterlist
A/N ⇢ this story is purely fictional! I am not nurse, and do not have unlimited knowledge on this topic. However, I am a healthcare worker, so I know a little, but not a lot. I am sorry for any information this is incorrect. This is meant for entertainment purposes only. This is not meant to take place in reality.
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They never prepare you enough for the things you might see within the hospital walls. 
Nothing is ever enough within those few years of education, the desperate attempt to create life savers. No one tells you how much it hurts to see a child suffer until death, a mother, a daughter.
You just wanted to be something. Do something. Be like the girl you dreamed of being as a child—a child who put bandaids on her mother, all over, decorating her like a painting. Sometimes, your mother would act like she was hurt, just for you to play make-belief, “stitching” up her “wounds.”
And here you were, in the hospital locker room, tears falling silently down your cheeks as you unclipped your hair, letting it fall just like the tears. You sniffed, hiding your face in the locker, although no one was around to see. It was embarrassing enough to yourself—you couldn't believe you were crying. You just…couldn't stop.
The day was rough—just too much. Too much death, too much sadness. This wasn't what you dreamed of. You never thought about how hard it would be to put a smile on your face to a patient, right after witnessing someone leave the world. To act, really. You should've taken up that career instead. You were pretty damn good at doing it—well, until you landed behind the curtain.
You haven't slept in ages. It's been constant insomnia on top of twelve-hour shifts, sometimes even longer, and once you are able to lay down, the only thing you hear is the sound of a patient crashing, the cries of family members. It had you questioning your profession. Your devotion. Your childhood.
As you made your drive home, for some reason, the lines on the road soothed you. Your eyes began to beg for sleep, rolling back ever so slightly as you continued. The gentle patter of rain graced the windshield, the red hue of the stoplight in front of you nearing. 
You stopped at the light—pausing to look at the city around you. The city was bright, even at the dark hour of midnight. People were walking, carrying on,  bar lights bright, apartments lit up in an array of colors. You took in a breath and closed your eyes.
And you closed them a little too long when a car horn sounded behind you.
You jumped, feeling apologetic for holding up the line, and continued forward. People passed you with impatience, but you didn't care. You kept going, crawling, really, till you felt sleep creep up once again, shutting your eyes. You drifted off, only for a short moment, and suddenly you awoke with haste—but not quick enough. In your headlights stood a man, walking across the street, and you didn't have enough time to move. You slowed as best you could, tires screeching, praying to anything, anyone, that this was your imagination.
As your car came to a screeching halt, you hit the man with a thump, causing him to crumble to the ground. You gasped, now wide awake, a scream caught in your throat.
You swallowed hard, hands shaking as you pulled over as best as you could and put your vehicle in park, looking around for any sign of someone. 
No one, absolutely no one, but you and this man you just hit. Just a few blocks back, the city was bustling, bars were hopping, but now, it was like a wasteland. You stepped out of your car, gasping for air, and sprinted through the rain to get to the man.
He was lying still, his head bleeding, his back on the asphalt. His black clothing hid the damage he received from the hit, hiding his body, his black hair covering his face. The only thing you saw was the black ink of a tattoo on his hand as it grasped the road.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, kneeling down to him. You assessed him as best as you could, fighting an anxiety attack. “I am so sorry, oh my god.”
He groaned in response, his arm visibly broken. You hurriedly dialed the emergency line, panting, nearly in tears. You didn't even think about the consequences of this action—you were only worried about the man, the stranger, in front of you. 
After nearly crying once more on the phone, the paramedics explained that they would arrive quickly. You hung up and looked over the stranger once more. “Are you alive?” you asked like a dumb ass, nearly face-palming. You were a nurse, goddammit. Act like one. 
You leaned over him, as gently as possible, putting a finger under his nose, and you felt a soft breath hit it. You checked for an airway obstruction, but nothing. He was breathing fine. In pain, but breathing.
The man tried to move, to roll over sharply, but you quickly bellowed, “Wait, please, you could have a spinal injury,” you pleaded, and surprisingly he stopped. “Don't move.” You caught a glimpse of his face. A large cut near his eyebrow painted his skin crimson, but his eyes were beautiful. His lip was cut, too, and you felt immense pain just looking at him. God, what if he was homeless? He looked it. What if he didn't have insurance? Oh god—
You saw how much blood was coming from his head as he looked up at you. His eyes were hazy, like he wasn't really seeing. You hurriedly looked around for anything to stop his bleeding, and when you found nothing, you took your coat off, then your scrub top, and you quickly put your coat back on. You held your shirt to his head as gently as possible, applying pressure, praying that the paramedics would come soon—
Your anxious thoughts were interrupted by sirens. You let out a sigh of relief.
When the ambulance pulled up, two men came to you with a stretcher. You were barely alert enough to hear them say anything. You mumbled a few things, your hands shaking as they set down the gurney. You mumbled to have them put on a neck brace, chest tightening at how the man cried in pain. You let out an ugly cry with him, but no tears fell. They gently rested him on the stretcher, his head steady, but his arm—
“Are you crazy!” you hissed, standing up quickly. “His arm….he needs his arm stabilized!”
“I’m sorry, mam,” the one man condescendingly said, giving you a dull look. “We know how to do our job. We don't need your input.”
You huffed. Mam? Mam? That was insulting. “I’m a nurse, I also know what I’m talking about.”
They ignored you like everyone seemed to ignore you. They began to move away, but a small object caught their eye that lay right where the man was. You picked it up, finding it to be an empty wallet—you’d give it back later.
They rolled him towards the ambulance, and you followed, forgetting about your car, and everything in it, leaving the scene behind. The paramedics didn't seem to care that you went with them, so you sat in the vehicle, watching them treat the guy you hit. You wanted to throw up as they treated him, as you sat still, like a worthless piece of paper. A crumbled-up piece of paper. Yeah. Crumbled. 
When you arrived at the hospital—a hospital that wasn't yours, you walked beside the homeless man, nearly reaching for his hand. However, your race with him was put to a stop as the emergency room staff stopped you as he headed into the wing.
“I’m sorry, only family members are allowed inside,” the woman softly muttered, her eyes genuine. 
She reminded you of yourself.
What….what if this man was really homeless? What if he had no help, no insurance, no family? You had to do something. You’d feel horrible if you didn't do anything.
“I’m—I’m his wife!” you blurted out, louder than you intended. 
The young lady gave you a heartfelt look and nodded towards the door. “Go ahead. There’s a waiting room inside. What’s your name? I’ll let them know you’re the guardian.”
You told her your name, sparing no second longer than needed, and you ran into the emergency room, sitting down in a hurry.
It was now a waiting game.
For what seemed like forever, a doctor came out into the waiting room, looking right at you. 
“Miss y/n?” He asked.
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “….You are Kim Hongjoong’s guardian?”
You paused, almost forgetting your whole spiel at the entrance. You remembered the name from his ID in his wallet, and nodded sharply, standing up quickly. “Is he all right?”
“He sustained many injuries, but nothing too major. His arm is broken in three places, and that will limit his mobility quite a lot. We set his arm, but he might possibly need surgery.”
You nodded, relief washing over you. Good, minor injuries. Phew. 
The doctor pondered for a long while as he stared at you. “The paramedics stated that you were the one to hit him with the car.”
You sighed. “Yeah, he came out of nowhere—”
“Why was he walking alone so late at night?”
You looked around the waiting room, seeing only one other soul in the corner seat, sleeping. You wondered about what to say, as your little white lie was becoming a web. 
“I uh….he works late?”
“He was intoxicated at the time of the accident—”
“He works at a bar?” you tried not to sound like you were questioning that statement.
The doctor deadpanned and then sighed. “Listen, I’m sure there's stuff that’s none of my business. So I’m going to choose to ignore this,” he nodded toward the emergency wing. “But you’re welcome to go see him. He’s awake now.”
You wondered for a second whether you should go back there. If he was going to rip your head off for lying, for hitting him with your damn car.
You nodded, telling yourself to grow some damn balls. “Okay, I’ll see him.”
The doctor led you to a room at the very end of the hall, the lights dim. There, in front of you, was the man you hit. He was all bandaged up, a large one spanning around his forehead, covering some of the spikey black hair. His arm was wrapped in a cast and held up for circulation, and his eyes were wide open. Right on you.
“Your wife is here,” the doctor spoke nonchalantly as he entered with you. However, you were stationary at the door. 
“Wife?” he scoffed, coughing a bit. He tried to sit up, but you put on your act, walking up to his bedside. 
“Don't move,” you spoke sweetly, eyes pleading. The attractive man just furrowed a brow, his lips curling down in a grimace.
“We’re gonna keep you here for observation tonight, and see how you are doing in the morning to keep an eye on that arm of yours.” The doctor quickly did what he needed to do and left, leaving you alone with….your husband?
The pretty homeless guy spared no second in the questioning. “Who the fuck are you?”
Your eyes widened, looking down at him. He gazed up at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. A tattoo peaked out of his hospital gown, where it met the skin of his neck. 
“Listen,” you sat down roughly on the seat next to the bed. He watched you emotionlessly. “I’m sorry—I didn't see you when you walked across the road. I take full responsibility,” you breathed, getting nervous under his gaze. 
You were expecting him to scream at you. Well, at least to freak out in some way. It was more alarming that he sat still, completely still, his mouth set in a line.
You blinked.
“I don't care, it’s fine,” he sighed. He showed no emotion, nothing. Not even a twinkle of anger. It was the look in his eye that told you that maybe, just maybe, he ran in front of your car on purpose.
Your eyes widened at the man in front of you—at hongjoong in front of you. He looked distraught tired, brown eyes never leaving your face as you gazed at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly, tilting his head.
“You can leave now,” he huffed, eyes dropping to your open mouth before darting up back to your eyes. “I’m not sure why you're even here in the first place.”
It was your turn to scoff. You crossed your legs in irritation at his lack of care. “Well, maybe because I hit you with my damn car? Maybe I’m worried, maybe I feel horrible, maybe I wanted to see if you were going to be okay.”
Hongjoong just blankly stared. He didn't show any signs of pain, of anger, of anything, really. 
“You don't have to worry,” he spoke eventually, turning away from your gaze to look forward. You watched the tattoo dance against his neck as he moved. “I’m fine. This is all fine.”
You didn't know what to say, how to feel. Your head was spinning, all the tiredness washed away. It pained you to see him so empty, so barren, even though he was a stranger. “I feel like I need to do something for you.”
He bit the bottom of his busted lip, as if forgetting. He made a face, the only expression he’s shone. “No need.”
“But I need to,” you leaned forward, closer to him. He turned to you, eyes void. “I’ll pay for your hospital bill, maybe treat you for a dinner, I don't know—”
“Don't,” he hissed. His eyes grew dark, the fire in them rising. You nearly shrunk back in response to his sudden change of attitude. “Listen, just forget about this, about me, all of it. I don't need your money, or your time, or—” he paused, his anger faltering as he looked at you. “Just…just carry on with your life. I’ll only affect it if I stay in it.”
You frowned, wondering what he meant by that. It didn't matter, though. Your guilt was all-consuming—and the fact that he most likely ended up in front of the car on purpose really was overbearing.
After a second of just…staring at one another, you sighed. “One meal.”
He didn't make a face. Didn't change his plain, empty expression. You looked at his starless eyes, his pale skin. You had the need to brighten him up, to heal him. That was your job, after all.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse came in before he could say a word. You immediately straightened, putting on a smile, hoping he would keep up the act even though he had no reason to. You didn't want to be kicked out—not right now. 
“How are we feeling, Hongjoong?” the young nurse asked, a smile on her bright face. 
“Fine, I guess.” His response was toneless. The nurse still bubbled around, checking his vitals. You watched as he stiffened as the woman touched him. 
She looked at you, arching a brow. “Oh? Are you the wife?” she let out a hum of appreciation, then turned her gaze to Hongjoong. “You’re lucky with this one. They said she freaked out when they didn't stabilize your arm and when they wouldn't let her inside the emergency wing! She must really love you to nearly fight someone to get back here.”
Hongjoong, for the little time you knew him, showed more emotion on his face than ever after hearing that. After hearing that someone—you, a stranger nonetheless—was distraught at his expense. His lips flattened in a line, his gaze faltering.
You grabbed his good hand, although bruises were painted across his knuckles. Old, yellowing bruises. You furrowed your brows, subconsciously rubbing a thumb softly over the colored skin. Hongjoong stiffened, eyes widening, at either your caring touch or the pain it could have been causing. Or both.
You felt your stomach tighten as you met eyes with him. The air was stuffy, his eyes were….practically begging for a reason for your attention, as if he’d never had it before.
“I’m lucky to have him,” you sighed, acting but feeling an intense pull to him. Just touching him, although you didn't even know him, felt like a second nature. 
Maybe it was the regret, the disparity, of hitting him, of being the reason his life was almost nonexistent. Maybe this feeling was because of the responsibility you felt for doing this to him. It didn't matter if it was true; this tension you were feeling with the stranger was more powerful than what you felt with your ex, the one before that, and the one before.
His face was devout of color besides the bruises that scattered his skin. He looked drained, tired, alone. The nurse just smiled at you two, noticing your bloody scrubs and messy exterior. “You’re a nurse, too?”
You just nodded, lost in the feeling that strummed through your body.
Hongjoong’s hand twitched under your hold, his eyes still wide. Still on you.
“Well, Hongjoong,” the friendly nurse smiled. “Don't let her go, she’s a keeper.”
He tore his gaze from you to look at your hand on his. He swallowed hard, blinking. “Ah, yeah.”
Soon after the nurse left, your hand still rested on his. He sat silently, staring forward at the whiteboard with his name on it.
“I….” you struggled with your words, realizing you were still caressing his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said as you pulled your hand away. His head shot towards you.
After a few moments of silence, he said, “It’s okay.” His tone was soft, defeated. 
You wiped your hands on your thighs, sweating buckets. “I, uh, I should go.”
He watched you stand up, but your back was turned, unable to see the wishful glance he offered you. 
You stopped in the door frame, turning around to meet his eyes once more. 
“It was nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you smiled, watching the glimmer in his eye trying to sparkle. “I wish you well.”
Before you were able to leave the room, he called for you.
“Wait,” he breathed, voice raspy.
You froze.
He took a breath in, exhaling his words. “What’s your name?” 
You turned around. “Y/n,” you spoke softly, your chest aching at the little half-smile peeking through his bruised lips.
“y/n,” he repeated, blinking slowly. He didn't say anything else. You didn't either. You smiled at him once more before turning on your heel and walking out of the room, despite the tear in your heart telling you to stay.
And on your way out, you paid his hospital bill in full, not a single regret in your mind about it.
After a few days, you continued your days like normal.
Well, as normal as they could be. Your mind wandered to the spikey haired guy at every sparing second, thinking of how his eyes pleaded something unreadable, how his hand twitched underneath yours.
You were at the hospital, reaching the end of your workday in the emergency room. After running in with a few scruffy-looking guys, they reminded you of a certain someone, and you just wanted to tear at your hair. You were certain your odd feelings were due to the fact that you hit him with your car, and nothing else. This will pass. 
When the quietness of the night was about to still, a man ran into the emergency room door.
“My friend is hurt,” The man huffed in desperation. You turned to the commotion, seeing a thin, black-haired man holding up another—his friend. But that friend and his familiar spikey hair jolted something inside of you.
You jumped out of your seat behind the nurses’ station and ran to the men, meeting eyes with the taller one. He was just as beautiful as hongjoong was, but his eyes were frantic.
“Sir, what happened?” you questioned, reaching out to the man who was just who you thought. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his eyes squinted in pain, his teeth barred. You carefully steadied him. “What’s hurting you?”
At your voice, Hongjoong opened his eyes wide, looking straight at you. “Y/n?” he grunted out, his breaths strained. He shut his eyes again, and you almost couldn't take the look he had on his face.
“His arm,” the other guy said to you as you called for help,  struggling to hold Hongjoong up. “He got into a fight at the bar, some guy decided to mess with his broken arm and, well…..”
You felt a sense of rage fill your body. You wanted to ask Hongjoong why the hell he was at the bar only days after getting hit by a damn car, let alone getting into a fight.
A few other nurses gathered around, all helping to walk him over to a bed. The wing was empty at this time of night—only a few people around. Once again, Hongjoong looked extremely uncomfortable as the nurses touched him.
You held him gently as you set him down on the bed, feeling his fingers curl around your arm.
He held on to you with his good arm—the hand you held only days before. The other nurses fluttered around, setting things up, but Hongjoong just stared up at you.
“Hi,” is all he said, his fingertips etching into your skin.
Your chest tightened, forcing yourself to smile. “We must be fated or something,” you joked, hoping to brighten him up. “That or you just frequent hospitals often.”
He blinked up at you, his eyebrows knitted in pain. “Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” He coughed as he joked.
Your heart skipped a beat, the other nurses and the man that came with him side-eyeing you.
“If you wanted to see me again, there are better ways than this,” you huffed, looking around. “We have to get an X-ray, alright? We’ll give you something to ease your pain meanwhile.”
The air between you two was undeniable. He nodded, emotion sparkling in his eyes, unlike the days before. You wondered if you were the reason for it.
It was probably just the pain.
The other nurses wheeled him to the radiology room, leaving you alone with the man who brought him there.
“You’re the girl that hit him, aren't you?” His voice was soft, gentle. It held no anger.
You turned to him, seeing the caring exterior he showed. “I….yes.”
He tilted his head at you, blinking, as if figuring you out in a single glance. “He’s been looking all over for you. You…paid his bill. He doesn't like handouts.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh? I didn't think he ever wanted to see me again. You know, I hit him with my car—that isn't something to take lightly—”
“You paid his bill,” the man repeated, crossing his arms. “He feels indebted to you. Please just make sure he knows not to feel that way.” The man sighed, looking into your eyes. “Despite how he looks, he ruminates over things. He’s sensitive. He’s a mess right now.”
You sighed, too. “I…I paid his bill because I did this to him—”
“No,” he interrupted, eyes serious. “You didn't.”
You knitted your brows. “....What do you mean?”
The man gave you a deadpan stare, as if not wanting to spell it out. He let out a breath he seemed to be holding. “He….he jumped in front of your car on purpose, y/n,” he bit his bottom lip. “So no, you really didn't do it to him. He’s…he’s just been a mess lately—and now that you acted sweet, played a wife, held his hand or whatever, he’s even more of a mess.”
Before you could ask what he meant by that, Hongjoong was back, alert and upright, but the pain still rested on his face. His gaze met yours, and you felt your stomach swirl in a mess of emotions.
You couldn't look him in the eye as you took care of him.
Hongjoong was sleeping as your shift was about to end. Before you clocked out, you couldn't help but go to him, check his injury out, check his vitals. His friend—Seonghwa, you learned his name—left about an hour ago.
As if noticing your presence, his eyes slowly peeked open, slightly drugged and delirious from the pain medications.
“I didn't expect to see you here,” he mumbled out, blinking lazily.
“I didn't expect you, either,” you spoke, keeping your emotions in check.
Silence enveloped you as you checked his pulse ox. 
“Why’d you do that?”
He turned his head to look at you. “Do what?”
You unclipped the pulse oximeter from his finger. “Why’d you get into that fight? You were really injured.” You wanted to ask the deeper question, the question as to why he stepped in front of your car, but you didn't want to overstep.
He shrugged, wincing. He didn't have an answer. He didn't owe you one, really. 
“Just,” you breathed, moving over to the computer to open his chart. “Just don't do anything like this while you’re healing. You need surgery. You need rest.”
He bit his lip, probably stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't. 
“Also,” you sighed, looking over at him. “Your friend told me you were looking for me?”
“Yeah, well,” he scoffed. “I really didn't mean to meet you here.”
You let out a chuckle. “Well, here we are.”
He nearly smiled at you, lips curling beautifully. He had a bit of dried blood on his lip, and knowing that you were supposed to be leaving, you still reached for a washcloth. You didn't need to do this—in fact, you were acting against every thought in your head as you leaned forward and brushed the cloth against his lip, watching them part.
His breath hitched as you neared, as you touched him, and once again, his hand twitched, begging to touch you.
Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment too long, meeting his eyes. He stared at you, expression unreadable, lips parted.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
You took a second to study his face before you moved away from him. His eyes followed you as you put space between you and him, dark and beautiful. 
You logged out of the portal on the computer. “We’ll move you to your own room before we prep you for surgery,” you said gently, heart aching as you met his gaze once more. “The doctor will tell you more.”
“Will you….be there for the surgery?” he showed no specific feelings as he asked the question.
“I am only part of the emergency department right now,” you shrugged. “I don't think so.”
He pondered for a second before nodding, settling himself back into the comfort of his hospital bed. “Okay,” he spoke softly.
You offered him a solemn look, causing him to stiffen.
“What?” he asked.
“What?” you repeated, confused.
He blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” you frowned.
“Like you feel sorry for me.” He looked pained, a deeper type of pain.
You thought about a response to that—you didn't necessarily feel sorry for him, you didn't pity him either. In fact, you just felt an immense feeling of wanting to see him happy, to see him without pain.
Which confused you incredibly, given that he was just a stranger.
“I don't feel sorry for you,” you clarified. “I just don't want you to be in pain.”
“You don't even know me,” he huffed, his expression contorting, and you figured that he didn't even know how he was feeling—what he was feeling. “Why would you even care if I’m hurting?”
You smiled at him. “Because you don't deserve the pain.”
He just stared at you, hazily, emotionally. There was a light in his eyes—a light that wasn't there the other day. “You don't know me well enough to know that.”
The air grew cold; you had nothing left to say. You wished he realized that he didn't have to suffer like this.
“Goodnight, Hongjoong,” you hummed, walking away, feeling his stare burn into your back.
The next day, you found yourself drawn to the bed Hongjoong was in yesterday. It was empty, with him now in a room of his own in another part of the hospital.
You typed away at your computer as your colleague, Yeosang, came up to you. 
“Hey,” he leaned over the counter of the nurses’ station. “There's a guy asking for you.”
Yeosang, although very young, was a surgical resident in orthopedics. He was super smart, super sexy, super everything. You went to school together, spending lots of time in the library and everywhere else together. 
“Who?” you mumbled without looking up.
“He’s a patient I’m prepping for an open reduction surgery, but he’s having a hard time letting anyone touch him. Says he only needs you or something.”
You looked up, hands freezing on your keyboard. Hongjoong. “He won't let anyone touch him?”
Yeosang sighed, propping his head up on his palm as he leaned on the counter. “We had to give him more pain medication, and it made him a bit….difficult. I suspect he has some sort of trauma.”
You frowned. “And why is he asking for me?”
Yeosang gave you a knowing look. “I don't know. He kept saying your name, saying he needed you.”
You tried to avoid the rush of blood to your cheeks. “I don't even know him.”
“Yeah, about that….” Yeosang looked a bit confused, a smile peeking through his lips. “He keeps calling you his wife.”
Oh, dear god. “How drugged is he?” you huffed, looking defeated. 
Yeosang laughed. “I kept telling him that you weren't his wife, and he got super mad at me. He said only his wife can touch him. I really need him to stop this so I can get him into pre-op,” The surgeon sighed, giving you a pleading glance. “I’ll ask the attending if you can scrub in—”
“I’m an ER nurse,” you raised a brow. “I have other duties, Yeosang.”
“Y/n, please,” Yeosang pleaded, “ignore the rules or whatever. Can you just come and help me so we can get him into surgery?”
Your mind wandered to the fact that Hongjoong was having a hard time. Sure, he was delirious off of his meds and pain, but knowing that he was struggling with touch, a part of you crumbled.
So you followed Yeosang—after getting approved by the charge nurse, and went up to the third floor.
As you neared the room, you let Yeosang enter first. 
“Mr. Kim, I have Nurse y/n here for you.”
There Hongjoong was, his eyes frantic, his breathing rushed. He was anxious, a mess. The nurses tried to ease him, and relax him, but he wasn't having it. That is, until he saw you in the doorway.
“y/n,” he breathed, as if he knew you forever. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief.
“Hi, Hongjoong,” you spoke softly, walking slowly near him. You sat in the chair next to his bed, scooting closer as the room emptied, Yeosang being the only other presence. “I heard you were asking for me.”
He blinked, his eyes lined with worry, with anxiety. For someone who looks so tough, he looks like a completely different person.
He didn't speak; he just looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression all over the place. You took a glance at Yeosang, who was observing you before you reached for Hongjoong's hand just like before. 
The bruises were faded now, only old scars left on his skin. A tattoo trailed the skin of his arm. You went to rub his knuckles,  but Hongjoong gripped your hand tightly.
You met his frantic gaze. No words were spoken. He just pleaded with his touch, his eyes. You knew he was scared. 
“It's okay,” you hummed, fighting the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear. “It's a simple surgery. You will be just fine.”
He mumbled something, but you weren't able to catch it. Yeosang stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, the other nurses peering over his shoulder from the hall. Hongjoong’s gaze moved to the door, seeing everyone watching him.
And you realized that, more than being anxious, he was embarrassed, too.
You looked to Yeosang, giving him a desperate look, a silent cry for him to leave and to get those damn nosy bitches out, too. He complied, and they were alone once more.
“It’s alright,” you hummed, and this time, you did reach out to his face, gliding a gentle hand across his cheek. Without thinking, he leaned into your touch, craving it, longing for it, as if you were really his wife. “They’re gone now.”
His eyes were droopy, his lips downturned. He looked tough, someone with a rough exterior, but now, he was crumbling. He was alone. Alone to the point that he called for you, basically a stranger to him. 
The moment could have lasted forever. His eyes bled into yours, yours into his, your hand on his cheek drawing circles into his skin. He took in a breath, and nodded.
“Will you let them take care of you?” you asked him gently.
He hesitated. You also did, as you realized that he leaned into your touch rather than avoiding it. That he felt comfortable with you—the one who hurt him. In his eyes, though, he didn't see it that way.
Your hand stilled on his cheek, his worried eyes lighting up a little. You didn't even realize that his good hand—the hand that you were holding just a minute before, was now resting on top of your hand that was on his cheek. He gripped it, his medical haze confusing him, confusing you.
You froze, your eyes wide. You allowed his fingers to interlock yours, having him hold your hand to his face as he shut his eyes. He was vulnerable. Human. Although he looked tough, looked troubled, he was just a person under all that trouble. Just a normal guy with normal feelings, normal fears.
And you were indebted to each other. You for hitting him, him for his gratefulness of your care.
“I’ll be there with you,” you murmured, knowing that Yeosang was still outside the room, close enough to hear, close enough to see. “I’ll be in the room while they’re operating.” 
He nodded, his grip loosening slightly, but he still didn't release your hand.
“I’ll look after you,” you offered, and his eyes met yours once more. 
He slowly let go of your hand, allowing you to move back. You looked at Yeosang through the window, giving him a curt nod for him to come back in. 
Hongjoong let the other nurses touch him, but not without a grimace on his face. Yeosang’s words swirled around your mind; I suspect he has some sort of trauma.
Trauma. Trauma that didn't quite reach you—your touch. He allowed it, actually, he wanted it. You wondered what made him okay with yours. Why he needed you when you were the one to do this to him.
Eventually, Hongjoong entered the operating room, knocked out by anesthesia, but not without you holding his hand, making him childlike, making him….a normal human being.
After the surgery, Hongjoong sat in his bed even more dazed than before. Before the daze wore off, he kept calling you his wife, causing confusion to stir around the hospital. 
As you left Hongjoong’s room to go back to the ER, Yeosang followed. “What’s this about?”
“I don't know what you mean.” 
You walked faster.
“I mean, why does that guy keep calling you his wife?” Yeosang’s shoulder bumped into yours accidentally as you turned a corner. “And why are you the only one who can touch him? Why did you—”
You stopped suddenly. “Why did I what?”
Yeosang let out a breath. “Why did you….touch him like that? As far as I know, you….you aren't married.”
“I’m not married, you’re right,” you nodded, confused by why you touched him like that, too. Confused as to why he looked so relaxed with your touch rather than freaking out. “And…let’s just say we have met each other before. I did that to calm him down.”
You continued walking towards the elevator, Yeosang following still. “Okay, but you still didn't answer my question about why he keeps calling you his wife.” you pressed the down button and waited.
“Is that really any of your business?”
“Just a little—”
“Why?” you interrupted, turning towards him, arms crossed. “Why does it matter to you?”
You didn't mean to sound rude, you and Yeosang were good friends for a while. You've never dated, but you’ve flirted with each other occasionally. You never thought much of it other than being a little playful.
But the look on Yeosang’s face caused you to pause your racing thoughts. “Because I thought we…we had something going on?”
You blinked. “Do we?”
“I mean,” Yeo scoffed. “With the way you were looking at him, I don't think I have a chance.”
The elevator dinged, doors opening. You paused for a second before entering, Yeosang following.
It was quiet before the doors closed.
“I didn't think I looked at him any differently than anyone else,” you admitted honestly, causing Yeosang to look over at you. 
He gave you a smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You feel something for him, huh?”
You frowned, leaning back against the wall. “I barely know him. I only…” you sighed. “I only met him twice.”
“But yet, you are the only one he allows to touch him,” Yeosang breathed as the elevator dinged on the first floor. 
“That’s something to think about.”
Hongjoong was back to his normal self when you went to check on him in the evening; the anesthesia and meds had worn off. His arm was bandaged up and held in a sling, his eyes empty once more. 
You hesitated on entering, but his stare moved to you.
For a second, you saw regret, and embarrassment, cross his face before melting back into a void stare.
You entered, but he didn't look at you. He avoided your gaze, too. Very unlike his earlier, medical high self. 
You took his blood pressure, fingertips gently wrapping around his tattooed bicep as you put the cuff on. He didn't say anything, didn't even spare a passing glance. He just kept looking forward.
“119 over 79,” you mumbled out, letting loose of the cuff.
He nodded, coughing a bit. He didn't say anything, though.
“Dr. Kang told me that you’re cleared to be discharged,” you tried to start a conversation, but things just felt too awkward. You wrote down his vitals in his chart. “That’s good. Can I call anyone to pick you up? Maybe the guy that was here—”
“No,” he said quietly, looking down at his arm. “There is no one to call.”
“You need someone to help you. You just had surgery—”
“I have no one, y/n,” he hissed, finally looking at you. “Not like that’s any of your business, anyway.”
You didn't know what to say, so you just stared at him with confusion. He was putting his walls up.
“I just….don't want you to suffer alone,” you admitted.
“Why?” he let out a laugh, but it wasn't humorous. “I don't need your worry.”
“Okay,” you breathed, defeated. There was no point; he was just a stranger, just a man. Although, this feeling you had about him was overwhelming. And when you touched him, you wanted to hold him longer. Wanted him to feel better.
You left the room without a glance toward him and carried on the rest of your day as best you could.
Hongjoong was sitting on the bench outside the hospital entrance, head low, as if sleeping.
You knew you should keep walking. You shouldn't give him any attention, any time of day. But your chest ached as you got closer and closer, and as you reached him, you couldn't bear to walk past him.
“Why are you still here?” you asked him, keeping a good amount of distance away from him.
At your voice, he looked up quickly, as if waiting for you despite his nastiness earlier.
He took a second to respond. “I, uh, I’m just sitting here.”
You looked him over. His black hair was no longer styled spikey, it laid flat across his forehead softly. His tattoos were on full display in the black t-shirt he wore. 
“You don't have anywhere to go,” you meant to ask it like a question, but it came out more like a declaration. He furrowed his brows at your words but didn't deny it.
“I’m fine, I’ll figure it out,” he sniffed, the cold air dancing around him. He didn't even have a coat.
Without thinking, you spoke quickly. “Come with me.”
He tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because,” you huffed, taking a step closer to him. “I owe you.”
“For what?” he spat out, probably not intending to sound rude. 
You gave him an honest look, and his eyes softened. “Did you just forget that I hit you with my car? That I broke your arm?”
He just sat there, blinking slowly. “You don't owe me anything, y/n.”
You reached your hand out. His own hand twitched. “Come with me.”
After a long moment of just staring at your outstretched hand, he let his hand find yours, standing up at his full height. You got a good look at his face, his eyes, his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful. 
You held his hand as you walked to your car, feeling a flutter of emotion in the pit of your stomach.
When you got to the car, you helped him into the passenger seat, despite his aggravated digs at you. You leaned over him, buckling his seatbelt, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.
You paused, frozen, inches away from his lips.
He swallowed hard, eyes glancing down at your lips. He didn't make a move. You didn't, either. 
You pulled away, forcing yourself to get out of his personal space to shut the door. You saw him tilt back his head and take a deep breath before you got to the driver's seat.
As you drove, you asked random questions like a goddamn idiot.
“So, uh,” you swallowed, looking over at him for a second. “What do you do for a living?”
What kind of damn question is that?
“I’m a musician,” he mumbled, looking out the window. “Kind of.”
“Ah,” you nodded, thinking of what to say next. Now you were thinking way too much into things. “What do you play?”
He looked down at his arm, sighing. “Well, I played the guitar, piano, some other things. I don't think I’ll be picking anything up for a while.”
“You will, eventually,” you tried to encourage him, but he just kept his gaze even out the window. You arrived at your apartment, pulled into the parking lot, and shut off the car. “We’re here.”
He nodded, watching you get out of the car. You opened his door, and with slight hesitation, you leaned over him again to unbuckle his seatbelt, but before you could, he stopped you with his good arm. 
You paused, inches from his face, meeting his eyes.
“Thanks,” he muttered quietly. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”
“You don't have to be sorry,” you whispered, feeling an immense pull to him, to his lips.
You ignored the urge and unbuckled the belt, but you didn't back away. Not like you could, anyway, with Hongjoong’s grip on your arm tightening.
The belt slowly slipped off of him.
He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dancing with emotion. “I was just… embarrassed. And drugged, and uh, well,” he paused, thinking. “Mostly embarrassed. I can't believe I freaked out over a little surgery. That’s so lame—”
“No, it's not,” you hummed softly, delicately. “It's a normal fear.”
He smiled. Actually smiled. From the little time you knew him, you haven't seen a genuine smile on his face. Or any sort of light, really.
“Thanks, uh,” he sniffed. “Thanks again. For looking after me.” his eyes fell to your lips. “You don't even know me, and you still…” he trailed off.
You realized that you were inhaling the air he was exhaling, that you were eye to eye, almost nose to nose. His breaths were shaky, labored, and tired. 
“I would want someone to look after me in the same way,” You whispered. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” he tilted his head upward, leaning against the headrest, warm, brown eyes on full display. 
“Mhm,” you swallowed. 
His eyes glimmered. He didn't have anything to say, and you didn't either. Realizing that you were shrinking the space ever so slowly, you took the opportunity to back away from the musician. He let go of your arm, but not without a little tug on it beforehand.
You cleared your throat as he got out of the car. You shut the door for him, and you walked together—slowly, till you reached your apartment door.
When you entered, hongjoong strayed back behind the door, not entering. You turned to face him, eyebrow raised. 
“Come in,” you beckoned, and with one more second of hesitation, he followed you in, shutting the door behind him.
He surveyed the place, his eyes finding the piano that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes danced as if surprised to see it there.
The air was thick. The room was quiet. You tossed off your shoes with ease, noticing his struggle with his own, so you bent down the help him. He didn't pull away, didn't speak. He just let you take care of it—of him.
“I don't mean to be a bother,” he mumbled as you untied his shoe. “But I’d really like to shower.”
You glanced up at him. “Oh,” you nodded, taking off his shoe before standing up. “Sure. it’s the first door down the hall.”
He didn't make any move. He stood, a confused, shy look resting on his face.
And then you realized.
He had no clothes to change into. Nothing. He also only had one working arm, and one covered in material that couldn't get wet.
“I can help you,” you trailed off, trying not to read too much into his stare. 
“If you comfortable with that.”
In the bathroom, Hongjoong stood anxiously as you waited for the water to warm up. It took a second, and most of the time, the hot water only lasted so long.
You figured a shower would be too difficult to help him with without seeing too much. You opted for a warm bath, filling the water up once it got hot enough. You made sure to add some suds to it, so he wasn't too uncomfortable.
When you turned around to face him,  his eyes were cloudy, his lips in a line.
“Do you….not like baths?” you mumbled, scratching your head. “I probably should've asked you before I—”
“It’s not that.” His eyes met yours, switching his weight onto his other leg. 
You didn't pry, knowing he was just probably embarrassed that he needed help for something as trivial as a bath. 
Walking toward him, he backed up into the door. You nearly smirked but maintained your cool as you grabbed the plastic bag off the sink counter. “I just have to wrap your cast in this. It'll just be a second. You might want to take your shirt off before I….”
He blinked, eyes wide. “Huh?”
“I don't think you normally bathe in clothes,” you murmured slyly, tilting your head. “Unless you like that.”
He didn't move. His body was as stiff as a board, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Just take your shirt off, dammit, or I’ll do it for you.”
You saw his expression change the minute the words left your mouth.
His good hand found the hem of his t-shirt, hesitating to take it off. You realized that he probably did need your help with taking it off, but with the look in his eye, you weren't sure what would happen if you got any closer to him.
But you moved closer, anyway, setting the plastic bag back onto the counter. His back was nearly up against the wooden door, his breath hitching as your fingertips gently pulled at the fabric.
“Why are you….so okay with this?” he breathed before you could pull the shirt up.
You met his gaze, his eyes unreadable. Almost as if he didn't know what he was feeling, either. 
“I told you already,” you shrugged, smiling.
He blinked, his eyes red with emotion, begging to send a flood down his cheeks. “I don't deserve your help.”
“You do, though.” Ever so slowly, you began to pull his shirt, soft, carved abs appearing as you moved it up. “Because you know, you don't have to suffer alone.”
“Who said I was suffering?” he croaked out, his eyes, his tone, spilling his guts out on the floor for her to see. 
You didn't say anything. You just slowly tugged the black t-shirt over his casted arm, watching him wince slightly. Then, he stood, half-naked, emotionally charged in front of you. He was no longer a stranger. No longer someone that you classified as a patient, either.
His eyes spoke volumes, his good hand twitching at his side. You looked at it, and took it in your own.
“Come on,” you nodded behind you. “I’ll help.”
He looked like he was ready to cry. Ready to break down. He didn't, though, and you walked him over to the bath. You unbuttoned his jeans, but turned around as he stepped out of them and into the tub. 
The soap covered his lower body, all that was on display was his torso, his slim shoulders, the tattoos inked on his tanned skin.  He didn't break away from your gaze as you began to wash him.
“I feel….something I shouldn't be feeling,” he swallowed, his voice raspy, tender, defeated. 
“And what’s that?” you wondered before running your hands through his silky hair, coating the strands in your lavender shampoo.
He shut his eyes, sighing. “I don't know what it is, but what I do know is, for some reason, your touch is very calming when everyone else’s hurts me.”
You paused, hands still tangled in his locks, but he opened his eyes.
A confession of feelings—worth more than any other cliche words. He stared up at you, heart on his sleeve, confusion and fear and everything in between dancing around his eyes.
“For the first time,” he whispered, the only sounds in the room being your shaky breathing and the quiet trickle of water from the spigot. “I feel…comfortable being touched. I….need it.”
His lips parted, his hair dripping wet, your hands still frozen within the strands. You didn't know how to respond, didn't know exactly how you felt, either. But you also knew one thing, and it became ever so apparent as his hand slowly reached your cheek, wet fingertips leaving a trail of soap across your skin.
You blinked slowly.
Softly, gently, you moved forward, over the tub, and brushed your lips against his. His eyes remained open from shock, but his lips moved slowly along with yours.
You pulled away, but didn't go too far, resting your forehead against his. His breaths tickled your skin, sending a blush to your cheeks. 
Emotions are complex. You didn't know exactly why you kissed him. Why you needed to. Why you wanted to do it again. But what you did know was that you liked how his touch felt, liked the little smile that appeared as you kissed him, liked how he gently pulled you back into another kiss.
You took in his breath as you kissed once more, this time a bit more urgent. Your hands gripped his soapy hair, his hand rested softly on your cheek, his thumb on the corner of your lips, his fingers tickling the lobe of your ear. 
He kissed you like he knew you forever. Like he knew just how you liked it. You found your hand trailing down his tattooed neck, fingers dancing on the ink, his dewy skin, his tongue in your mouth.
You parted once more, so close, breaths tangling, fingers scrunching. His breath was hot against your face, his dark eyes pleading.
You’d so get on top of him in that damn tub. You wanted to, so bad. But you remembered that his arm was hurt, that you were the one that did it, and you nearly stood up to move away before he gripped you by the arm.
“Don't go,” he breathed hazily.
So you didn't. You washed him, this time, knowing that you were begging to end this bath and fuck him silly till the sunrise. Till the warm, glow of the burning star fluttered through your blinds. And with that damn look on his face, you knew he was thinking about it, too.
You helped him out of the bath, not turning around this time. He stood slowly, body on full display, even more tattoos, even more scars covering the skin you didn't get to see. 
You sheepishly handed him a towel. He took it, but didn't use it to cover himself up.
“You’re not dating that damn doctor, are you?” he spoke, his tone serious, deep. Sensuous. 
You breathed out, “No.” 
He grinned, cheshire-like. “Good.”
You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off. He wanted to claw at your skin like some goddamn animal, his expression pained in all of the right ways. 
You needed air. God, this bathroom was stuffy.
Turning on your heel, you forced yourself to walk out of the damn room, because if you didn't, Hongjoong would become something far more stranger than, well, a stranger to you.
But he had other plans. More impulsive plans.
He followed you out of the bathroom and into your main living space. He gripped your hand, his fingertips gently pressing into your skin. When you turned to face him, he was dripping wet onto the lightwash wood floor, beads of water collecting on the ends of his hair. His eyes were wide, begging you for something, anything.
So you gave up on your act.
“Do you want to fuck me right now?” you wheezed, smiling as his eyes widened even more. “Is that what you want?”
You stepped closer to him at his silence, and arched your body against his bare torso, feeling the hardness of him press your thigh, his lips begging to meet yours once more.
You teased him, lifting your mouth to his, letting out a sigh. He shivered as your hands felt up his bare skin, and your hot breath tickled his face. 
He nearly growled, his good arm wrapping around your waist swiftly, tugging your body towards him completely, holding you here as his mouth crashed to yours. His broken arm begged to touch you, too, and without thinking, he moved it quickly. He hissed in pain, his arm definitely hurting him, but he didn't care as much as you did. You tried to part from his lips, to ask him if he was okay, but he bit hard down on your lip to keep you from speaking. 
You moaned while he stuck his tongue down your throat, his hand now tearing at your top, your waistband. You hurriedly tore off your clothes for him, giving him no second to stare at your body before tossing yourself onto him again. He grunted, moaning into your mouth, the vibrations tickling every part of you. He pushed you back, nearly tripping over the throw rug, the coffee table, until your back slammed into the keyboard of your piano.
The keys slammed as your ass hit them roughly, the musician making music without even intending to. His hips bucked into yours, your core right where he needed it, his dick pulsing, aching to be inside you. You lifted your hips, grinding them against his cock, gaining pleasure in his expression.
He nearly whined as you bit his ear lobe, his hips shifting into you, begging for you.
“Can I get inside you?” he moaned, eyes frantic. “I need you, fuck, I need it bad.”
In more ways than one, he needed you, but now, he needed your body. Needed your touch, your moans. You obliged, your body already wet enough for him to enter. You lined up, and without a second to waste, he slowly moved into you, causing you to toss your head back at the feeling. His eyes rolled back; a whine left his pretty pink lips, his chest heaved in pleasure.
His head dipped to suck your nipple, tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of your breast. You huffed, trying so hard to breathe. He let out moans that did something dangerous to your body, to your mind. You moaned along with him as his hips snapped.
“Oh, god,” he whimpered, his tone light, airy. Water dripped onto the soft skin of his chest from his hair. “You feel so good.”
You smiled, tearing your hands up his back as the piano cried along with you. The keys clicked, moaning from the weight above them. The music filled the room, tangled within your breaths, your sweat. You gripped the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his wet, dripping hair, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter by the minute.
Your walls caved into him, his cock pulsing inside you. He looked into your eyes for a long moment as he moved, his black hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth open in gratification. He kissed you, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, tugging on it. He liked to bite.
You felt euphoria reach you before you knew it, and you cried out, gripping his hair, pulling it as he fucked you. His face pained, his teeth barred, his eyes shut tight. Just his expression—his appearance—could've made you come on the spot.
You felt tingles in your fingers, and your toes, and saw stars in your vision. Black spots fluttered, your heart rate probably much higher than it should be. You didn't care if you died right here, right now. It didn't matter. Nope. This was bliss. So much better than that damn vibrator.
You felt like you were on fire—no, more like a falling, burning star crashing to earth. Your stomach ached at his pressure, your hips aching, your head pounding. You came onto him with haste as your vision blurred, tearing into his shoulder blades, leaving little marks on his skin. At your actions, you witnessed the look of utter satisfaction on the pretty boy’s face, his breaths quickening, shallowing. He let out a whine, just as musical as the keys underneath you.
Before he could come, he pulled out, cumming all over your breasts, your stomach. You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to catch your breath.
He stared at you, eyes low, lips swollen and red. So fuckable, so delicious. 
He looked at how he painted you, smirking a bit to himself. He was so full of life, full of emotion. “Let me go grab that towel,” he breathed, his voice crackling a bit. You watched in enjoyment when he walked away from you, watching his ass, his legs, the tattoos move with him.
He returned with the towel, wiping you gently as if he hadn't just made you nearly black out. You gazed at him, not sure what you were feeling, how you were feeling. You could do it all night with him, with this guy who was a stranger only a couple of days before. It wasn't too often that you acted on your desires, but there was no possible way you were supposed to avoid this, avoid him.
When he was done, when you were clean, he set the towel down on the floor, but his eyes didn't leave you. 
“What?” you hummed.
“Just,” he breathed, smiling. “That was really good.”
“I hope so,” you chuckled the feeling of the room lightening, almost in a playful way. “I hope this wasn't your goal all along—you really freaked me out when I hit you.”
He looked down as you jumped off the piano. “Uh, yeah. I bet I did.”
You moved to him, gently reaching to hold his cheeks for him to look at you. “I got you now, huh? No more running in front of cars, unless it's mine. I’ll be prepared next time.”
His eyes widened as if he was shocked by your words. That you knew he did it on purpose. He didn't deny it. He just leaned into your touch, eyes closing tight in comfort.
“Like I said,” you started, giving his lips a little peck. “I’ll look after you, if you’ll allow it.”
He took in a deep breath, opening his eyes, meeting your sincere gaze. His lips curved up. “I’ll look after you, too.”
You smiled along with him. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, embracing him, feeling even more intimate than sex. He let out a shaky breath, as if finally realizing he wasn't alone, didn't have to be. That he deserved a caring touch, a longing touch, a needy touch. That he could actually have something to himself.
You didn't know what you were to each other, and it really didn't matter. There was no need to label it so specifically. You could be his rock, his personal nurse, the person to stitch him up when he gets hurt. The one he could confide in, have sex with, whatever he needed. Whatever you needed. 
So when he kissed the top of your head while you hugged him, you tightened your arms just a little, holding onto him as long as he’ll let you.
You’ll look after each other.
1K notes · View notes
iluvies · 7 months
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IT’S ONLY A LITTLE CRUSH!
ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, megumi, yuji, sukuna, choso, yuta, higuruma
summary: he could name all of the moments you’d caused his cheeks to turn pink just from the way you’d smile at him. . . or was it because you’d catch his eyes lingering on you a little too long? whatever it is, they are completely smitten with you! scenarios with the jjk boys who are completely enamored and obsessed with you.
warnings: gn!reader, fluff, suggestive content in toji n sukuna’s, reader is called pretty a lot, sukuna calls reader brat
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GOJO SATORU
୨୧ . his eyes followed your movement, locked on the way you smiled and laughed at his jokes. although satoru soon frowned slightly when your hands came up to try and cover your face. “why are you hiding your face?” he’d asked, reaching over to gently tug your hands away much to your displeasure, “you look cute when you laugh.” satoru was almost offended. why would you want to hide your face from him? especially when he was admiring the strands of hair that’d fall in front of your eyes with each warm smile and giggle. “i love that flustered smile of yours.” if only you could see the way he was internally kicking his feet.
୨୧ . “satoru, you’re spilling water everywhere.” your voice interrupted his thoughts as he looked down at the spilled water all over the table. his face turned a deep red color and he smiled sheepishly at you, mustering what was left of his confidence to make a joke—which really wasn’t a joke—to hide the fact he was embarrassed, “i must’ve gotten lost in your eyes.”
୨୧ . both satoru and an exhausted looking nanami sat together on a small bench by nanami’s workplace. unfortunately, the tired man had gotten caught up in satoru’s rambling about you; how perfect you are, how he couldn’t possibly be in love with someone so utterly perfect, and how he just wanted to kiss your pretty lips until you needed to breathe. “just tell them how you feel.” nanami said, taking a bite of the small bread in his hands. “i can’t. i’ll embarrass myself again. . .” satoru sighed, causing nanami to shake his head a little. unbeknownst to satoru, you had been rambling to nanami about your growing affection for him as well.
GETO SUGURU
୨୧ . you had sought company from suguru while crying your eyes out after a rough day. he let you inside and wrapped his arms around you, letting his hands fall to your hips and trace lazy circles with his fingers. “it’s okay, you’re okay.” suguru murmured, soaking in the warmth of your soft skin. “i’m sorry, suguru…” you whispered quietly, gripping the back of his shirt. he squeezed your hips gently when he heard the sound of your voice. why would you apologize for needing comfort? he would gladly comfort you if it meant holding you in arms each and every time.
୨୧ . suguru draped the blanket over your body, watching as your chest rose and fell with every breath. in his eyes, you looked peaceful, beautiful even. “i don’t want to be alone tonight.” you murmured, peeking your eyes open to find his. he offered a smile and tenderly tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “you won’t be. i’ll be here for as long as you need,” suguru promised, his thumb rubbing your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you, “don’t worry that sweet head of yours, okay? i’m not going anywhere.”
୨୧ . the nights were peaceful when the two of you walked alone together. lingering glances at each other and the soft “sorry”s that’d leave his mouth when he’d accidentally brushed his hand against yours. “you look really pretty, y’know that?” suguru said, a small smile gracing his lips as he looked at you from the corner of his eye, “so pretty.” with a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head away shyly. feeling him press a hand to your lower back, you peeked at him. “suguru. . .” you managed to breath out, before you noticed the sly smirk beginning to present itself on his face. oh, he knew what he was doing.
NANAMI KENTO
୨୧ . he stood in front of your door holding a small box of custard-filled hot cakes, eyes drifting to his watch with each passing second. he texted you ten—no, twenty minutes ago letting you know that he would be coming over. he was sure you got his message. before he could check his phone, you open the door with an apologetic grin. “sorry for keeping you waiting, kento. i was doing some touch-ups to make sure i looked—“ “you always look good.” you blink a few times in confusion. “huh?” nanami went stiff, a subtle blush on his cheeks. he had assumed you were going to say “good”, but judging from the look on your face he had been mistaken. this thought was immediately lost when you laughed, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “you always look good too.”
୨୧ . nanami’s coat hung loosely on your shoulders, his cologne immediately filling your senses. “you’ll catch a cold.” he said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. you hadn’t expected it to be so cold that night, leaving you in clothing that didn’t protect you from the freezing breeze. fortunately for you, you were walking with a gentleman. “thank you, nanami.” you offered him a kind smile, in which caused him to turn his head to the side, hiding the flustered expression on his face. “i just don’t want you complaining about being sick tomorrow.”
୨୧ . “stay still for me, sweetheart.” his calloused hand wrapped around your ankle, gently yet firmly pulling it closer to him as his fingers found the laces on your shoes. his eyebrows were furrowed whilst he tied your shoelaces, completely focused on making sure they were tied properly. “it’s not too tight?” nanami asked, glancing up at you. you shook your head, cheeks burning red. seeing how you reacted so shyly, he chuckled lightly and patted your knee before standing up. the things this man would do for you.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
୨୧ . the both of you had an argument yesterday, resulting in you pettily giving toji the silent treatment. what you didn’t expect was to see the man at your door holding a bouquet of flowers. watching you stand there awkwardly, he rolled his eyes and held out the flowers, smiling sarcastically at you, “i didn’t buy these flowers for myself, sweetheart.” hesitantly grabbing the bouquet, you let out a sneeze. “i’m allergic to flowers.” “just take them.” you pouted slightly and feigned an exasperated expression, “i don’t know if i can forgive you. . .” your voice trailed, causing him to sigh and glance away, resting his arm against the door frame. “i’m sorry.” toji grunted with an annoyed look to his face. if only you knew how hard his heart was thumping in his chest.
୨୧ . toji stood behind you as you prepared some ingredients for your dinner date, his hands resting on the counter on either side of you and his chest pressed up against your back. you could feel his hot, shaky breath on your neck, lips dangerously close to pressing wet kisses to it. he was impatient and so desperate to feel you—your bare skin—touching his. “are you almost done?” his voice was low and gravelly. “almost.” you answered breathlessly, heat beginning to coil in your stomach and bit lower. “that’s good enough for me,” toji’s hands grabbed your hips, turning you around and sitting you on the counter, “i’ll be nice and take my time tonight.” a lie of course.
୨୧ . “what are you doing?” you let out a small yelp, practically jumping out of your skin. “toji! don’t sneak up on me like that! make some noise at least.” you had been so caught up in trying to scare him you hadn’t noticed him walk up from behind you. “hypocritical, much?” he muttered with a small smirk, raising his eyebrows at you as he stared at you knowingly. as you came up with different excuses, his eyes watched your lips and how they would move with each word spilling out of your mouth. your lips would feel so soft against his, your hands would push and pull at his hair whilst his kisses linger on your— toji knew he was long gone.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
୨୧ . you and megumi were sitting in a small restaurant awkwardly waiting for yuji and nobara to show up. “did you want to get some drinks?” you asked quietly, fidgeting with your fingers as you barely glanced up at him. his cheeks had a faint blush that increased gradually, his eyes shifting to your face before quickly looking elsewhere. “we should.” megumi mumbled, reaching for the menu on the table, accidentally brushing his hand against yours as you had gone to reach for it too. “sorry.” he retracted his hand almost immediately, his face burning in embarrassment. “it’s fine.” you reassured, giving him a small smile, albeit nervously. your knee bumped into his, but instead of pulling away like he did when your hands touched, he stayed still. “maybe we could share a milkshake? to save money.” real smooth, megumi.
୨୧ . a small whine fell from your mouth as you failed to knock the last pin down, “i really wanted that panda plushy.” megumi’s eyes narrowed at the pin that stood standing. oh, he was going to win you that panda. you let out a dejected sigh and began walking away slowly, not noticing the boy now determined to stay at the stall until he wins you the panda plushy you wanted. “maybe next time, huh, megumi. . . megumi?” your head turned so that you were looking over your shoulder, just to find him holding four different stuffed toys and most importantly, the panda one.
୨୧ . your hands patted down the snow, trying to make the spherical shape of the snowman’s head. with a confident smile, you took a step back and showed megumi your wonky looking snowman. “how does it look? i put a lot of effort into it.” he blinked a few times, trying to process what he was seeing. “it looks good.” megumi replied rather stiffly. he couldn’t help but melt a little at your expression, a little lie wouldn’t hurt, especially if he got to see you smile because of it. “i knew you’d like it! it looks like you, doesn’t it? all cute and grumpy looking—“ “i do not look cute or grumpy.” “i can see you blushing.” “i’m just cold.”
YUJI ITADORI
୨୧ . “let’s watch that one!” you looked over to where yuji was pointing on his phone, finding the movie he has been talking about nonstop. not to mention, the movie that you’d already watched before. “no.” his jaw dropped, hands flying to grab your shoulders. “please? just this once?” yuji gave you his best puppy eyes before you reluctantly nodded with a sigh. “one more time.” you said, giving him a playfully stern look. he smiled widely and hugged you tightly, swaying you side to side, “so this is like a date then?”
୨୧ . yuji’s hand steered the wheel, eyes glued to the racing game displayed on the screen. “i’ll win for sure!” you both made a bet that the loser had to buy a game for the winner, and he was sure to win. unfortunately though, you surpassed him in the last the second, driving the car across the finish line. “that’s not fair, you distracted me!” by distracted, yuji meant he couldn’t stop looking over at you when he noticed your concentration and focus in winning the bet. it made a light blush dust over his cheeks and his brain to fog up with thoughts of you.
୨୧ . his hand reached over to steal a bit of your food. “i saw that.” he looked away with a cheeky grin, shrugging his shoulders a little while he quickly brought the food to his mouth. “no you didn’t.” yuji said, feigning innocence. “i’m watching you right now, idiot.” a small chuckle forced its way out of his mouth before he began laughing loudly, causing you to laugh along with him. yuji felt comfortable around you, despite all the times he would become flustered when you’d catch him doing dumb things. he hopes you feel the same too.
SUKUNA RYOMEN
୨୧ . he thought it was cute how you would hesitantly reach for him. sukuna was a large man, undoubtedly towering over everyone that came across him. but you were different. all these little things you would do from your expressions to your actions, it had his cold heart defrosting piece by piece. “why are you looking at me like that, brat?” his voice held clear amusement, eyes basically glaring at you. because of your obvious height difference, he purposely placed things out of your reach, finding enjoyment in you struggling to grab the items you needed. “you need to use your words.” sukuna was going to give you those things either way, he just couldn’t resist making you end for it first. but you’re his favorite human after all, he couldn’t upset you now when he still had so much more waiting for you.
୨୧ . even the king of curses needed breaks, especially with your hands gliding up and down his back with a cloth. “do you think i’m made out of glass?” sukuna grunted, a hint for you to apply more pressure to your scrubbing. his arms rested on either side of the tub, peering down at you through the corner of his eyes while you focused on scrubbing his back. not that you would notice his growing soft spot for you, but his words weren’t as hostile when directed at you. “you make yourself useful. perhaps you can use your hands elsewhere.” he muttered slyly, his lips curling up into a smirk.
୨୧ . “you think i want this pathetic thing?” you had taken the time to make him a bracelet despite the fact that you knew he would dismiss your efforts, you were slightly disappointed and taken aback by his tone. “i just thought. . . i’m sorry.” you bit your lower lip and pulled your hand back before he grabbed your wrist, making sure to stop you from moving away. sukuna didn’t feel bad. at least that’s what he told himself. “i never said i didn’t want the bracelet, brat.” this was out of pity, not because he wanted to see you give him that warm smile of yours or that pretty blush on your cheeks.
CHOSO KAMO
୨୧ . “this feels nice.” your hands combed through his hair gently, thighs on either side of his head. “does it?” you asked. choso hummed and kneaded at your calves absentmindedly, eyes closed while he just enjoyed the feeling of your touch. you were so wonderful, and sweet, and perfect, and everything he’s absolutely wanted in life. if only he could spend all of his time laid back on your couch, head squished between the plush of your thighs, with your hands messaging his scalp. notice how it’s all ‘your’? he can’t picture anyone else in your place. especially that place in his heart he’s reserved solely for you.
୨୧ . this man is no doubt completely lovesick with you. the way you handle yuji with such care and kindness. . . it has his heart aching. “thank you.” choso said, looking over at you. he thought everything about you was absolutely beautiful, from the sweetness in your gestures all the way down to the heartfelt words spilling from your lips. “for?” you asked, looking at him with a tiny chuckle. “looking out for my brother.” his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh and how you shake your head. “you don’t need to thank me for that, choso.” he loved you so much it just wasn’t fair how you weren’t his yet.
୨୧ . although he came off as blunt and emotionally detached to most, the man sobbing in your arms definitely didn’t come off as that. choso’s tears stained the front of your shirt, the one you reassured him not to feel bad for getting wet. “my brothers. . .” he didn’t need to finish that sentence and you understood. you always did. the deep love for his brothers who he had no way of showing it to anymore broke his heart. “deep breaths, everything’s okay. you’re allowed to cry.” your embrace was his favorite, and will always be.
YUTA OKKOTSU
୨୧ . he had his head propped up with his palm as his elbow rests on the desk, his eyes following and admiring your every moment. you were so pretty. . . the strands of hair that fell in front of your eyes while you leaned over the notebook to write notes or do small sketches. yuta was jealous of the others who could openly talk to you. he could barely talk to you without stuttering or turning a bright red, his face immediately turning down towards the ground. just like now. “did you want to hang out after school?” you asked curiously, “we could get some ice-cream?” he nodded, still avoiding your eyes. “as in a-a. . . date? y-yeah, that would be nice. if you don’t mind!” yuta’s heart was racing, hands sweating profusely. he wasn’t dreaming was he? “it’s a date.” please, kiss him now.
୨୧ . the way you stood over him, staring down at his tired form on the ground made his skin blaze. “it’s like you’re letting me win. do you like losing, yuta?” by you? he would gladly let you win. even if he probably didn’t have a chance of winning in the first place. “i-it’s not like that! i just—“ his voice immediately shrunk into nothingness, lips pressing together when he watched you lean down. yuta prepared himself for what you were going to say, the serious expression on your face making his heart sink a little. your lips parted slightly before he tried spluttering an apology, making you giggle at him amusedly. “i was only teasing.” you made him feel so lightheaded.
୨୧ . yuta never thought the day would come when you would fall asleep and rest your head against his shoulder. not that he was hoping it would happen—a lie. you let out the most quiet breaths, lips parted just enough to show a gap where your upper and low lip met. the train wasn’t too crowded at this time, thankfully for the both of you. should he wake you up soon? “i’m sorry, yuta. . .” your voice pulled him out of whatever thoughts he was having about you, “i didn’t mean to fall asleep.” a gentle smile graced his face, his hand hesitantly pushing your head back to his shoulder. “it’s okay, i don’t mind as long as it’s you.”
HIGURUMA HIROMI
୨୧ . a low groan reverberated from his chest, eyes rolling back. “thank you.” he murmured, the tension in his shoulders easing until he felt like putty in your hands. “you’re always so stressed, hiromi,” you sighed, continuing to massage his shoulder blades, “i wish you would take some time just for yourself.” before he could stop himself, the words spilled off his tongue, “why would i need to take some time just for myself when i can spend it with you?”
୨୧ . your perfume was one of the many things he loved to be welcomed with when he stepped into his office. no— it was the only thing he loved to be welcomed with when he stepped into the dull room he called an office. you always smiled at him when he looked in your direction, offered him coffee when he’d let out a yawn, and stole glances at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. he was utterly infatuated with you. “are you alright?” higuruma’s head turned in your direction. “sorry?” you tilt your head with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “are you feeling okay?” he paused for a moment before replying with a muttered response, “just thinking.” “about?” higuruma swallowed thickly, his gaze finding the files on his desk. how could you expect him to respond when you looked at him like that? “nothing of importance. . . to you.”
୨୧ . this man enjoyed having petty arguments with you, watching you either miss the joke he made or get upset at him for pointing something out. the way your eyebrows would furrow and your lips would form a tiny pout when he would bring up embarrassing moments of you. don’t think he did this to mean, he just loved getting a reaction out of you. “the office wasn’t built for you to slack off.” he said, giving you a sideway glance as a smirk grew on his face. “i’m not slacking off.“ you scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him. higuruma simply shrugged and chuckled slightly, “just kidding.”
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© ILUVIES do not copy, modify, or repost!
2K notes · View notes
aquickstart · 9 months
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i need to talk to you guys about the colors of the Cattons (Felix specifically) and Oliver. the clothes they are wearing are telling the story of Oliver taking over and leaving his mark throughout the whole movie, with Oliver's failures and successes and a final triumph. holy shit. get in. this is long and ends in ancient greek culture trivia. let;s talk please.
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disclaimer: am starting from Oliver's arrival at Saltburn. before that the outfits are also very intentional, but it's a lot more complicated and it has been discussed before. the world distorts once we are at Saltburn and the story gets truly gothic there, and every detail—including color!—is enhanced in meaning. also, special thanks to @kivlaro for doing this with me, the thoughts on this specifically and the Saltburn craze on the whole. pics and detailed analysis under the cut!
let's start from the beginning. here is Oliver at the door. simple, blue shirt.
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the shirt is sort of its own character. logically it makes sense as Oliver's suitcase is small and he spends the whole summer there, of course he'll rewear stuff a bunch. but it is blue.
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in contrast to Felix, in yellow. yellow is one of Felix's colors (he is the sun, which i've talked about here btw, so this makes sense).
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same to Pamela, in blue. first time we see her, she is next to Elspeth, wearing the color that is Oliver's, taking the place that he takes right away, in this very scene. the only other time she is physically present on screen is at dinner, in black and white, and black and white are a blank slate. she is stripped of color and gone very fast.
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a bit of crucial data for later: Oliver, in blue, and Felix in pink. pink is very important on Felix. this is their first morning together. they are separate and opposite, solid, contained.
where it starts to get good is the morning after the vampire strike.
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Venetia is a Felix extension, just as everyone in the house is to Oliver. i will eventually rant about Saltburn as a whole entity and Cattons as aspects of one self, and Oliver as psychosis, but not here. so, yes, Venetia is a pink riot, a euphoria of self-containment because Oliver gave her a piece of something she felt she lacked to feel whole (validation, attention, care), not a piece of blue, of himself. Oliver is expectedly solid blue. Felix is incredibly interesting and something i didn't pay much attention to at first: predominantly blue, incredibly upset at Oliver for ditching him, with a tile of bright red (on the left! close to heart! over-reaching here but like still!), which still tracks. i mean, really, if i had so much foreign color bleed into me and then abandoned, i'd be pissed, too. nice little touch is sir James' beloved hydrangeas, behind Felix, also pink, very pink, always pink; i don't think i've seen them blue in the movie, although the sort exists.
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Farleigh. sweet baby Farleigh i love you. I'm not dead-set on my interpretation of this specifically but i think multiple things are happening with Oliver and Farleigh here. like Rent, which is their song, blue is their color of outsiders and the triers to fit in. Farleigh points out the favoritism and preference of Oliver to him and his mother here, so it may also be appropriation of color to draw attention to Farleigh as almost (but never quite) Oliver. it may also be as simple as that Farleigh, as much as he denies and resists, still retains Oliver's influence, which bleeds into him very slowly.
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a nice little moment of Felix wearing blue swim shorts with just tiny specks of a pink pattern. Oliver's shorts also have a bit of pink, but less than Felix's. Oliver is pretty good at remaining unaffected and uninfluenced overall.
and we're getting to where it all clicked and started for me. the Quick family house, the failed reconciliation, and the immediate aftermath. oh it's so good.
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on the drive there, Oliver is blue, Felix has a pink polo shirt with a solid blue pullover over it. this is the most blue Felix has ever been (this is the most blue he will ever be!), this is trust. however shaky and toxic it is, Felix loves Oliver and accepts him into his world. as a side note, Oliver's parents are also very blue, mom more so than dad. nice!
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and then it crashes. immediately after, it's the evening of the same day, but Felix is not wearing the blue pullover anymore. this is very, very important. this is rejection. it's the end for Oliver in Felix's world and with his trust. Felix, again, in solid pink, Oliver in solid blue. Felix successfully rips him out with the roots and everything. ouch.
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daddy. sorry. is that highlighter? sweat? fuck. let me- daddy. SORRY
no i actually have a point about this.
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the clothes are replaced by the lights, but we roll with it. Oliver basks in the blue-green light, while Felix is on the other side, in pink and purple and red. sure, blue shines through, and Oliver also walks through the slashes of pink, but it is mostly pretty separate, Oliver watching Felix's pink in his own blue from a distance.
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the morning after palette is deep. the wine color that is so prominent in these scenes is fascinating to me. if i were to over-reach again i'd say it's the Oliver in Felix's attributes and in his place that requires the robe to be so dark, not usual definite pink, because deep blue has leaked into the color itself, mixed with it, made itself integral to the shade. but it's also just a nice color, and it is pink in its core. the flowers (with sir James in the background) i think are also this specific shade for the same reason. you look at what remains of Felix everywhere here, and it is his color.
and finally oh the lunch scene. the last supper. the judgement day. the who's afraid of virginia woolf madness.
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i think we've established what's up with Oliver, but i also think it's important that he is his own color at lunch but in Felix's pink/wine right before and after. lunch is where he attacks, whereas before and after is where he grieves and enjoys. Farleigh is almost completely blue save for a strip of the same deep pink, and he is soon cast out, and Venetia is striped, blue and pink/salmon, affected deeply by Oliver yet still clinging on to the Catton pink with grief, probably, but also love for Felix.
and after all this, Oliver leaves himself.
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no, like, actually, literally himself. sure, he'd got a taste of the Cattons and the pink, but he is a monolith, a solid blue when he leaves Saltburn. he has not been affected by the house, he has taken what he wanted but stayed true and whole. what a power move, honestly.
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but it's an even bigger deal that 16 years later, Elspeth runs into Oliver wearing all white and a blue scarf. oh, she's not let this go, alright; it was a long time ago, "but not to me," she says. What Oliver has been up to in that time is a great question, without a doubt he's been keeping tabs on the remaining family as much as he could; but Elspeth has never moved on, either. She has held on to Oliver's blue and the pink is not important at all now. Oliver, of course, is invariably, unwaveringly blue. welcome back to his show.
and welcome back to his triumph.
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the only color (except for, again, white and black) we see him wear in the flashback about Saltburn inheritance is the all-too familiar deep pink. wine. bright pink mixed with deep blue.
now i will take a liberty and step back, over-reach, over-interpret and go insane. here's a fun bit on ancient greek culture trivia for you.
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this is an interesting and complicated historiographical and linguistic debate that i will not even attempt to relay here, but the essence of it is this: for us, the sea is conventionally deep blue. historically, one of the most prominent civilizations considered "deep wine" to be the descriptor for it (not necessarily the color but the property. highly rec to look this up it's so fascinating). what it gives me here is that Oliver has changed color, but not his self. he has integrated, mixed, but persisted, completely winning over, triumphing. long live the king!
in conclusion, i would just like to propose "colors" by halsey as the next cattonquick anthem. thank you for your attention, please let me know your thoughts. yours, yes, you. cheers. god. peace out
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chastiefoul · 11 months
Text
giving them flowers ft. genshin characters
featuring: wriothesley, neuvilette, scara, xiao, kaveh tags: fluff random notes: wriothesley is my new obsession
wriothesley
“wrio,” you sang out as you took the last step of the stair leading up to his office, finding him at his usual spot; buried in paperwork with a cup of tea loyal on his desk. upon the sight of you, his face lit up a little. “now the guards just let you right in hm? well it’s no wonder, you’re quite the charmer after all,” he said, his tone playful. you approached him, rolling your eyes. “please, the moment the news spread that i am ‘involved’ with the duke no one was brave enough to mess with me.” wrio chuckled, not denying the fact, as he also did not forget to remind the guards that you have the freedom to do whatever you wanted within the premises.
wrio just hummed in approval, as you went and sit on his lap. “i noticed the pretty things on your hand there, who’s it for?” he asked as he put a hand around your waist, the gesture tickled you a little. “for you.” you smiled. “for me to give sigewinne? i’m pretty sure i’ve told you where she usually is,” he raised an eyebrow, the clueless expression was as clear as day. “silly, it’s for you. this flower is yours.”
he stared at the bouquet of aster flowers on your hand, taking it carefully. somehow for a moment his gaze seemed a bit distant, like seeing through a passing memory. “how lovely,” he smiled to himself, your heart squeezed a little. “indeed they are,” you said softly.
“and you, too.” the lingering gaze landed on you, his piercing icy-blue eyes that’s usually sharp was somehow warm and gentle. he continued, “the loveliest.”
--
“i was worried when i saw you with that flowers that i might have one of those things you often read and told me in your books, ‘love rival’ is that it?”
you laughed. “really? you, worried?”
“hmm well, i did say i could fight.”
neuvilette
“neuvi?” you called to him as you peeked your head from behind his office door. “(y/n)? such a pleasant surprise, what brings you here?” he smiled softly, leaving his desk to approach you. “i had sometime before work and i wanted to give you this.”
you revealed a bouquet of bluebells from your back.
neuvi’s eyes widened slightly at the object.
“do you like it?” you asked hesitantly after seeing his lack of reaction. neuvilette snapped out of it, noticing the restlessness on your feature as he said, “i love it, i will cherish it.” relief washed over you as you did not detect the sign of him lying about it as he gazed the bouquet with such tenderness. “although, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving such nice gesture?”
“nothing at all, i happened to see it on the way here and seeing the petals just reminded me of you a little.” you said, keeping the true meaning of the flowers to yourself. “oh? how so?” neuvilette asked, genuinely curious but also enthusiastic over what you said. you quietly chuckled to yourself. “what more do you want me to say? obviously the flowers are so beautiful, very much like yourself.” you smiled teasingly, a little wide for it to be genuine.
the subtlest pink painted his cheek bone at your unexpected response. “only you would compliment me with such words, (y/n),” he shook his head in wonderment, his little smile betrayed his attempt in acting aloof. “you mean the only one that’s bold enough to say it directly to your face, if you refuse to believe it i could go right now and gather enough people to march in here to chant that the iudex of fountaine is so very beau-“
he coughed in bashfulness, the color on his cheeks became more apparent. “love.. it is also only you who’s so fond of teasing me. please perish that ridiculous idea from your head,” he said, his tone feeble and pleadful, something you knew he did only in front of you. you laughed lovingly at his reaction, “i’m sorry, i just couldn’t help it. but you truly are beautiful, neuvilette.”
“dear please.. no need for further flattery, you already have me.” he let out a sigh, shaking his head at your shameless flirting. “it’s not flattery, it’s the truth.  i am allowed to compliment my lover whenever i wanted, no?” you smiled. neuvilette once again sigh in defeat. “i suppose that’s alright, so long you let me do the same towards you.”
scara
“what is this..?” he stared at the sunflowers on his hand. “okay so when someone waters a seed and fertilize them-“
he scoffed, “you know what i meant.”
“it’s a gift.” you answered curtly, as if the whole thing doesn’t need a further explanation, and it really didn’t it’s just a certain grumpy gremlin demanded it. “did you do something wrong?” he eyed you suspiciously and you’d hit this man if he wasn’t so endearing. “god why are you saying it like i’m a bad person or something, you know what? i’m taking it back.” you said as you made no attempt of reaching out yet he shielded the flowers with his arms anyway.
“i never said i didn’t want it. also it’s mine now, have you no shame taking back what you’ve given?” he narrowed his eyes at you, and returned his attention to the object at hand.
“a ‘thank you’ still works just fine, you know?” you said, having a hard time holding back a grin by his hard attempt not to show that he liked the gift. his gaze rested on the flower for another minute, as if reminiscing something. “i just... no one really ever...” he said with a voice barely above a whisper; a moment of weakness where he sounded vulnerable.
“i’ll just have to give you many more of it then,” you smiled at him, for a second you swore he looked excited. “you don’t have to, i have no use of this.” he said, sounding like he didn’t mean a single word he said. you raised an eyebrow at him.
“although.. ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ.”
xiao
“i didn’t bring your almond tofu today, but instead i wanted to give you this,” you said, handing him the iris flowers. “flowers..?” he tilted his head, wanting you to elaborate as to why you gave him that. what’s the occasion? where did you get them? why are you giving them to him?
“i just thought you’d like it, do you?” you smiled unsurely. “i.. don’t mind it however, such vibrant and lively things, it fits you more,” he said nonchalantly, as if what he just said didn’t make your heart do a backflip. “you’re looking at it the wrong way. even after surviving storms and rains, flowers stood tall proudly through it all—and that’s why i think it resembles you way more,” you said confidently.
xiao was quiet at your words, before letting out a rare soft smile. “if you feel that way so strongly, i have no choice but to believe it, then.”
kaveh
“for me!?” he asked excitedly at the bouquet of tulips. you nodded just as excited. “oh i love this so much, it would go so well on my desk after i put them on a vase,” he said, his eyes glistened with joy. “if i knew you’re going to be this excited i would’ve gotten them sooner.”
“no harm done my love, i am just beyond happy you thought of me.” he smiled, giving you a kiss on your cheek. “now, won’t you help me pick a container to put these flowers in?” he said, already taking your hand and leading you to his collection of things. “you say that but everytime we do this it’s always you picking different stuff up while you demand for my words of affirmation,”  you said, holding back a smile. “and?” kaveh raised an eyebrow, “and i love it, of course.” you laughed.
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yourelliewillms · 7 months
Text
are you in love with me or
something?
ellie williams x reader
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summary: you and ellie are friends but there's some (a lot of) tension between you two when you're alone in her car.
hiii, this is my first time writing something AND ALSO in english which is not my first language so there may be poor vocabulary or grammar mistakes, if you find one feel free to correct me <3
no smut !!
a while ago i saw a tiktok like this and i loved it, i needed to write it as ellie x reader that's to say that the idea is not completely mine but i tried to continue the story.
she put one of her fingers between your teeth and don't get this wrong, you two were just playing. you made one of those funny faces that you usually do to her while softly biting her index finger.
"so cute..." ellie said quickly removing her finger out of your mouth and looking away from you.
"what?" you asked as you saw her facing the window, the car in almost completely darkness if that red light from the parking lot wouldn't be shinning on your faces just enough to admire her facial expressions and a bit of the pink blush on her face.
"what?" she replied looking back at you.
"why did you do that?"
"what did i do?"
"look away" you said leaving her in complete silence for a few seconds as you feel the tension between you two growing up by every second passing.
"it's just... you're so pretty" she moved one of her hands back to your face, brushing it against your cheek gently. You could feel your face getting warmer and warmer, almost burning, she could feel it too.
"you're pretty" you replied in a whisper looking at her eyes from which you couldn't admire the beautiful green color due to the red light coming from the window but you could still see them shining.
seconds of silence again that felt like an eternity. this could have been awkward for any other person, but you... oh, you're head over heels for her. you could just look at her face in silence for hours, days, even weeks, and it wouldn't be awkward for you at all.
the same happened to her, but she wasn't relaxed. she could feel her heart beating so fast and loud that you could almost hear it.
her fingers moved to your lips now, oh you were about to faint in that second. she caressed them so carefully, it seemed like she was touching a weak flower that could die in any second. she was looking at them too, so tempted to kiss them but she wasn't brave enough to do it, although that really was the perfect time to kiss you (or make out with you.)
"are you in love with me or something?" she asked, her voice shaking even though she was trying to sound cool, she thought she was acting like a loser.
"hm?" was the only sound you could produce with a smirk on your face. you really didn't hear what she said? or you just want to see if she had the balls to say it again?
"are you in love with me or something?" there. she said it again. it was what you wanted, but you really needed a confirmation since you think this couldn't be true, no, it couldn't be. you should've been dreaming.
"am i in love with you?" you asked her
she nodded, now your doubts a
were confirmed.
"no" you answer. but you two know you're not being honest, she knows it. the smile on her face doesn't fade and her eyes don't leave your lips, not even for a second.
"you want me to be?" you asked again.
"just looks like you are" she whispered. and now your body leaned closer to her. you could feel the butterflies on your stomach tickling all over it, and the imaginary fireworks around you two started shinning beautiful colors when you were about to kiss her. you could appreciate every single detail on her face, her freckles, the pink blush on her cheeks and nose, her green eyer half closed and her lips waiting for yours to touch them. but then a sudden sound came from the back of the car breaking all that romantic atmosphere you two have built with so much effort, you've never experienced something like that, such tension that could be felt in the air, and now jesse and dina were the ones who ruined it by opening the car door shouting and laughing at probably some joke they were telling.
ellie and you sigh and quickly separate from each other. you were about to kiss her and now you don't know how much you have to wait for your next opportunity. the anger on your face and voice tone can't be hidden from jesse and dina.
"are you guys okay? are we interrupting something?" dina asked. your ears were burning and you don't know if it was because of what happened earlier of because of the anger you're feeling. couldn't they wait for just one second before getting into the car? why ruin your best experience with ellie so far?
"we're fine. i'll drive you guys home first, and then i'll drive y/n to her house"
there was ellie, trying so hard to make a move on you and you were so glad. you knew your house was way nearer so she could have driven you home first and then jesse and dina but it was obvious that ellie wanted some more time alone with you with no disruptions this time.
jesse and dina waved goodbye at you and then Ellie drove you home.
or at least that's what you thought but then Ellie parked the car some blocks before arriving to your house.
you looked at her just a bit confused because you already knew what her plan was. your eyes met hers, the green in her eyes could barely be seen because of the darkness in the car.
you've been in silence during the last few minutes and it felt like an eternity. You exchanged around five words since jesse and dina interrupted your almost-make-out-session.
her hand brushed against yours and then she held it while caressing it with both hands. you could feel the warm of her hands on yours travel all over your body reaching your cheeks which immediately turned a dark red color.
one of her hands took yours and lifted it up near to her face and she started leaving little kisses on the back of your hand. she kissed the five fingers of your hand while you were all dizzy just by the sight and the feeling of her soft lips on your skin.
"i am in love with you" she whispered once she finished kissing your hand.
"i know" you replied in a whisper too. "i'm in love with you too" this time your voice was louder.
just a second after that, ellie took your face gently and kissed your lips soft and slowly so you could taste every single inch of her mouth.
the car was in silence, just the sound of your lips kissing each other and some sighs and heavy breathing could be heard and that was enough to make your heart jump fast inside your chest.
i know it's short but it was all my mind could do !! please judge I'd like to get better on this <3
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
Text
tw - unhealthy relationships, non/con, mentions of overstimulation, dehumanization, semi-public sex, and abuse.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
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If Arlecchino had it her way, you think you’d be more of a doll than a person.
Not that it would make much of a difference when it comes to how she treats you. To her, all the world might as well be pieces of a chessboard; playthings to pose and position as she deems fit. Knights are sent into righteous battles, pawns are burnt to ash on first line of fire, and you’re made to watch it all from your place on a glass-enclosed pedestal, where the cruelties of the world are visible, but at a distance. That’s a flaw in her little world that Arlecchino hasn’t realized, yet – your eyes, unlike those of the delicate figurines she favors, are not only painted on.
You suppose you should count yourself lucky, when compared to the rest of her unfortunate collection. Most of her pieces are chipped and scarred, sharpened into fine, deadly points only to be discarded when they begin to dull. You, on the other hand, have proved yourself worthy of her maintenance. Your wardrobe is curated to her particular tastes, every style of bow and pattern of lace hand-selected to suit her preferred aesthetics, and she spends each morning running comb after comb through your hair, brushing rouge onto your cheeks, taking leisurely minutes to decide if she’d rather see you in blue or pink or lilac – always light colors, always gentle. You think, sometimes, that you must look like a groomed dog next to her, pastel and ridiculous next to her monotone elegance. Often, you try not to think about how little of a difference it would make if she added a leash and collar to your daily ensemble.
She rarely lets you leave her sight. Of course, obligation does draw her away from you from time to time (a rarity she laments as often as you pray for), but whenever possible, she has you sitting pretty by her side or, better yet, perched in her lap, straddling her waist and sobbing quietly into her chest as her clever fingers bring you to the brink of climax for the nth time in the past hour. The company she keeps rarely makes a difference when it comes to how or when she touches you – although, you do try not to remember how many of her colleagues have seen you with teary eyes and open legs. A doll’s owner rarely questions the way they choose to handle their toy, and so, she’s content not to think about how she handles you. Her only acknowledgement of your suffering is a quick kiss to the cheek as she coaxes you onto your own feet, a muttered comment about the new stain on the dark fabric of her pants. It’s a miracle that you can bear the humiliation of it, but your endurance is a convenience, not a necessity. There’s no reality in which your limitations alone would be enough to stop her.
Arlecchino does, at least, make the occasional effort to pretend she thinks of you as a partner, rather than a plaything. She’s made it clear that, in her ideal world, you’d happily accept the total loss of your autonomy and thank her for each and every second you spend under the torment of her obsession, but she settles for the occasional, trembling smile when she presents you with a gift or confection you lingered on while passing by an especially charming shop, the tender intimacy of your head resting on her shoulder when yet another meeting proves to be more long-lasting than your attention span. On her best days, she’ll even respond to your timid requests to please not leave another bruise on your neck, another fang shaped indentation on your collarbone with a breath of a laugh and a hushed explanation of why she has to, rather than just an outright, wordless dismissal. You wouldn’t quite say she listens to you, but it’s as close as she comes.
Dolls, after all, are incapable of requesting to be played with in a certain way, or asking their owners to treat them more gently, or speaking up about anything at all.
A doll, Arlecchino’s ideal doll, can only watch with a smile as it’s broken apart.
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ooffmlsorry · 10 months
Text
OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"
A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️
Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo
Sanji
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Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!
He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.
A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.
Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.
Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.
He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨
He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors
Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma
Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀
ZORO
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He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one
He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled
But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.
Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend
He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.
In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.
Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.
Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute
Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.
You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.
He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"
Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown
LAW
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I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.
Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy
Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.
He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.
Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.
Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.
You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.
He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute
He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it
Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.
LUFFY
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I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭
He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.
Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.
He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's
Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)
He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy
Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals
Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you
*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.
You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.
He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.
Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.
He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.
ACE
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Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!
He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol
...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol
Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.
Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!
I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol
Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.
He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢
All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.
He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels
I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.
He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you
Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol
SABO
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Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol
Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???
Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???
If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol
"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter
He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.
And brags about your skills to everyone
Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo
There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that
Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better
He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest
He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting
He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️
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inkskinned · 1 year
Text
we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."
we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."
we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.
we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.
we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.
we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.
do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.
i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.
we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.
and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.
tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.
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iovetecchou · 1 year
Text
Saccharine ⧸ Dazai Osamu & Chuuya Nakahara‧₊˚
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༞ Contains...! smut, implied fwb situation amongst the three of them, banter, competitive!chuuya, and competitive!dazai, kissing, teasing, begging, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, aftercare
༞ AFAB Reader.
༞ 2,124 words.
kinktober masterlist!
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“Ah, you lost again Chuuya!”
Dazai gleamed as the short-tempered man cursed under his breath. Murmuring something along the lines of “You fucking bastard”.
“Now, now. Boys, play nice!”
You shot Dazai a look as you replenished Chuuya’s newly emptied shot glass. Some of the liquor spilled on the temperamental man with your attention elsewhere.
“Oi, watch what you’re doin’ sweetheart.”
Your eyes darted down toward Chuuya’s hand, watching as the saccharine liquor dribbled down his fingers.
“Sorry Chuu, wasn’t paying attention! Here, lemme clean you up.”
Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling his sticky digits to your lips. Dazai watched quizzically as your tongue darted out, lapping up the stretch of Chuuya’s lithe fingers.
“H-Hey! What do you think you’re doin’?!”
Chuuya silently thanked the alcohol for coloring his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. If it wasn’t for that, You and Dazai would know his face was truly growing hot because of your lewd display.
“Cleaning you up? I don’t mind. You have really pretty hands, Chuu!”
Your eyes were locked on his azure ones as you lapped up the last of the mess you made on his fingers.
“Oh no! Belladonna, I made a mess. Be a good girl and help me clean it up, yeah?”
You and Chuuya whirled around at the commotion. Dazai had ‘accidentally’ spilled the drink he was nursing all over his hand. The chestnut-eyed man pouted in faux distress, now holding his sticky digits out in front of you.
“You asshole! You did that on purpose!”
Chuuya barked out, glaring down his counterpart. You couldn’t help but chuckle at Dazai’s actions. He piqued your interest. You didn’t think twice before crawling closer to the devilish man.
“It’s alright. I don’t mind cleaning you up, too. Although you didn’t have to pull such a stunt if you wanted this. All you had to do was ask, darling.”
You quipped, offering Dazai a playful wink before your tongue slipped past your parted lips. Licking the sickeningly sweet liquor right off his elegant fingers.
Dazai smirked as he watched you lick him clean. You could hear Chuuya grumbling behind you about how much of an ‘asshole’ his counterpart was.
“You have pretty hands too, Dazai! Your fingers are so long.”
You noted, causing Dazai’s smirk to grow tenfold. He shot a sly gaze in Chuuya’s direction before he retorted,
“I’m glad you think so, belladonna! My fingers are way longer than Chuuya’s. I’m not surprised, though, considering his… small stature.”
Chuuya shot up from his spot, marching toward Dazai before letting him hear it.
“You got a lot of nerve, you know that? Just because your fingers are longer doesn’t mean they’re more skilled.”
His words caused Dazai to perk up. You could tell the lanky man sitting before you was up to no good now. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious to see how this would play out.
“Oh, why don’t we put that to the test? We have a perfect subject right here!”
Dazai wrapped his arm around your waist. Pulling you into his frame as he beamed brightly. Causing the copper-haired man to scrunch his brows in confusion.
“The fuck are you takin’ about, asshole. Stop screwin’ around.”
Dazai’s hand trailed further down your waist, soothing over your hip. Your mind felt fuzzy as he drew small circles into the side of your thigh.
“We’re going to see whose fingers are more skilled and the lovely Y/N is going to be our little helper, obviously! You gotta start paying attention, Chuuya.”
Chuuya stammered, watching as Dazai turned to face you. You allowed him to trail his fingers further down your thigh. His nondominant hand came up to caress the other side of your hip. Causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.
“I think I like where this is going…”
You whispered. Your eyes finally met Chuuya’s as his counterpart flipped the hem of your skirt up, slipping his hands beneath the fabric. Dazai tugged your panties down your legs slowly, before tucking them in his back pocket for a later date.
“Well, Chuuya? You in or out?”
Dazai teased, not daring to take his gaze off you. Too focused on the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him.
“Yeah Chuu, in or out?”
Your voice was laced with honey, drawing him into you; without even trying. Chuuya tried to keep his eyes on yours, he really did. But when his azure gaze flickered down, getting a glimpse of your most intimate parts… he caved.
“Fuck it, I’m in.”
Dazai snickered as his hands now ghosted over your inner thighs. Spreading your legs further apart for better access.
“You’re too easy, Chuuya.”
Dazai teased, reveling in the way you gasped as his fingers ghosted over your clit. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, watching as Chuuya scooted closer toward you.
“Shut it, asshole. I don’t wanna hear your voice anymore. I’d much rather hear my sweetheart callin’ my name right now.”
You shuddered as Dazai began rubbing languid circles against your puffy bud. Chuuya wasted no time bringing his fingers up to your slit. One of his digits teased your entrance before he ultimately slipped inside you.
“What do you mean by, ‘My sweetheart’? I thought you knew by now that Y/N is mine!”
Dazai declared in a sing-song voice. Feeling his cock twitch from beneath his slacks as another whine rolled off your tongue.
“Now, now… no— ah, no f-fighting.”
You managed to say, nearly fumbling your words when Chuuya inserted another finger. Curling his adept digits deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot with ease.
“Fighting? Who’s fighting? I’m simply reminding Chuuya of his place here.”
Chuuya began thrusting his fingers faster inside you. Aiming to prove his point; that his fingers are more experienced than Dazai’s just to rub it in his face even more.
“You’re on thin ice, asshole. I told you before, be quiet!”
Dazai let out a drawn-out sigh as his fingers teased over your clit. Alternating between rubbing vigorously and leisurely. Leaving you feeling desperate for more.
“Dazai, don’t stop— please.”
You whined, bucking your hips up. Greedily begging for more.
“Tsk, how shameful my belladonna. Are you this needy for me already? But Chuuya hasn’t even made you cum yet.”
That was Chuuya’s last straw. With that, he shoved his counterpart away from you with his free hand. Never once ceasing in his movements inside you.
“You’re fucking done. Watch and learn from over there if you can’t understand how to keep that big mouth shut.”
Chuuya hissed, not sparing another moment on Dazai from that point on. Your breath hitched as Chuuya’s other hand came up to your pelvis. His thumb pressed firmly against your swollen bud, rubbing your clit just how you liked it.
That’s something you loved about Chuuya. When you asked for something, he gave it to you. Rarely teasing you the way his counterpart did nearly every time. They were like day and night, but something about that contrast was thrilling.
“Fuck— yes! Just like that Chuu, don’t stop!”
You braced yourself on your elbows from where you rested. Propping yourself up slightly to get a better view of Chuuya as he fingered your drooling pussy, with more intensity than before.
“Yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me as you cum all over my fingers.”
Before you could process, Chuuya added a third finger. Plunging fiercely inside you, matching the pace with his thumb that still toyed over your puffy clit.
All you could muster was a silent plea of Chuuya’s name as your orgasm crashed over you. You squirted all over his fingers as he worked you through your high.
“That’s it, sweetheart, so good for me.”
Chuuya whispered, absolutely mesmerized by your blissed-out face. He loved watching your eyes roll back when you came. And knowing he was the one provoking you to writhe in pleasure caused his cock to throb in his jeans.
Chuuya slowed down his pace after a few moments. Retracting his hands from your warm wet heat as you tried to catch your breath.
“Okay! My turn~”
“Dazai, wait— ah—!”
Before you could finish your thought, Dazai was shoving Chuuya aside just like the short-fused man had done to him earlier. Payback, he thought. Dazai wasted no time shoving two fingers into your messy hole. Pushing as deep as he could, delivering shallow thrusts from within your gummy walls.
His fingers scissored inside you, curling ever so slightly on the drag down. He was teasing your G-spot. But you weren’t surprised; teasing was Dazai’s specialty, after all.
“To m-much! Please, no t-teasing tonight. I’m too sensitive…”
You babbled, unable to control the way your hips bucked up each time Dazai’s nimble digits grazed over your sweet spot. Once more, his other hand was ghosting over your clit. His middle finger stroked your slit, only granting you the smallest bit of friction against your puffy bud.
“You heard her, stop teasing’ goddamnit!”
Chuuya grumbled from beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was trying his hardest to ignore his erection, which only ached more and more as you whined out in pleasure.
Dazai finally let his middle finger press down against your swollen nub. He rubbed your clit slowly as his fingers pulled out of you almost completely, before thrusting right back into you.
“Oh? I didn’t know you were barking out orders now, Chuuya. Your turn is over, so why don’t you just sit back and take notes.”
You could hardly mediate under these circumstances. Your mind was too far gone, fuzzy from all the pleasure both Chuuya and Dazai granted you tonight. Your end was nearing, and the chestnut-haired man was more than aware of that.
“Do you want to cum, my belladonna?”
He halted in his movements altogether. Dazai allowed you to catch your breath before you cried out,
“Y-Yes! Please, just make me cum!”
Your eyes were swirling with desire as they met his, and you didn’t fail to notice the smirk that etched its way into his features from your pathetic plea. He was enjoying this; and the tent in his pants wasn’t the only giveaway.
“Good girl~”
And with that, Dazai fucked his fingers back into you; relentlessly. Adding the perfect amount of pressure to your g-spot as his middle finger circled your clit fiercely.
“Hah— ‘m cumming—!”
Your whole body tensed as you clenched around Dazai’s fingers harshly. The coil within your tummy snapped, causing you to squirt all over Dazai’s palm. Not that he minded, though.
His bronze eyes raked over your body as you came for him. Dazai could hardly contain his grin as you cried out his name.
“Aww, you’re so cute when you make a mess all over me like this.”
Dazai cooed, slowing down his moments before stopping entirely. Letting his fingers slip out of your spent hole.
“That’s enough out of you! Make yourself useful and grab Y/N a towel and some water.”
Chuuya grumbled. He put all of his attention back on you after uttering those words. He could tell you were exhausted after everything. And Chuuya was sure all the alcohol you consumed earlier didn’t help with the drowsiness.
“Alright, alright. Sheesh, you know you’re really bossy for a short-stack.”
Before Chuuya could bark back, you brought your hand up to his face. Grasping his jaw between your thumb and forefinger before turning him to face you.
“Ignore him for now, Chuu. For my sake, yeah?”
You watched as Chuuya’s expression softened as he gazed into your eyes. You offered him a small smile before pulling him in for a lingering kiss.
The sweet embrace didn’t last too long though, because only a few minutes later, you heard Dazai call out;
“Aww, where’s my kiss, belladonna?! And after I took the liberty to grab you water and a nice clean towel!”
Dazai clutched his chest in feigned pain. He knelt down, handing you the bottle of water he fetched.
“That’s only because I told you to do that, asshole!”
Chuuya retorted, yanking the towel out of Dazai’s hands so he could tenderly clean you up. You couldn’t help but smile as the two men attended to you.
You leaned forward to place a chaste kiss atop Dazai’s lips. Pulling out a hum of approval from the cheeky man himself.
As you pulled away, your hands crept down to rest atop both Chuuya and Dazai’s thighs. You gave each of them a knowing look before whispering,
“I think it’s my turn to show you two how skilled my hands are. It’s only fair, right?”
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glossgojo · 2 years
Text
the neighborhood keeps getting smaller
joel miller x reader
cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v sex, joel has a big dick, breeding kink, size kink, pet names, MATING PRESS BRRR, slight dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids don’t be dumb)
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can be read as a sequel to hold me across state lines
you and joel have been going slow whether you like it or not, you finally get a chance to spend some together when ellie is out for the night….
ellie had caught on pretty quickly that things had changed between you two. in fact the next morning at breakfast she blurted out, “you guys are fucking aren’t you?”
“oh my god ellie.” you clutched your head with your hands, elbows on the table as you felt a headache incoming. joel grumbled next to you and ellie almost gagged at his cheeks coloring pink. i mean, could you even blame her? you woke up this morning dredging into the kitchen in only what appeared to be joel’s shirt, looking around like a lost puppy until you met his eyes. joel wasn’t any better, his jaw dropped a little bit and his eyes swept over you quickly. ellie didn’t even hold back an eye roll; it wasn't like you two were paying her any attention anyways. you couldn’t raise your head and look the teenager in the eyes, you’d let joel handle this one. besides it wasn’t like you two had fucked you’d just gotten more intimate than two platonic partners ever did.
“ellie, first of all don’t talk like that especially when we’re eating, secondly we’re taking it slow and when we’re ready to tell you anything we’ll let you know.” joel’s tone, although gruff and stern, soothed your nerves. this wasn’t a one time thing and he was making it clear to both of you in that moment. when you woke up from the deepest sleep you’d had in a while you expected him to be next to you, so when you wandered into the kitchen this morning you needed comfort, you needed confirmation.
“okay fine but it’s not like it’s a surprise to anyone. the whole town thought you guys were practically married.” with that ellie scarfed down her remaining pancake and took her plate to the sink. you looked up at joel who looked equally confused as you were. were you both such fools? it seemed you two were the last to know. you waited until you could hear ellie stomp all the way upstairs and close her bedroom door behind her.
“God how am i gonna look her in the eyes?” you were a motherly figure to the girl, you felt mortified just thinking about facing her again.
“it’s fine, clearly the whole town was thinking it anyways.” joel had to admit he felt a sick thrill knowing the whole town thought you were his. it certainly explained why none of the younger eligible bachelors who snuck glances at you, but dared to approach you. he had likened it to his glaring, but clearly it was something more.
“jesus christ, they were, weren't they?” you scoffed and couldn’t help but take in joel’s appearance. he looked well-rested and as cheery as joel miller possibly could be. no wonder ellie had suspected something. “uhm joel.” joel didn’t think he could hear his name come out of your mouth without picturing you laid out for him, arched in pleasure and crying out his name like it was the only word you knew.
his mind stopped working for a moment as he looked at your messy hair and swollen eyes, and then he responded realizing he could only stare at you so long. a simple hum from him caused you to shiver as you scouted to the edge of your seat, your bare thigh brushing against his denim one.
“did you mean it when you said we’re taking things slow?” joel’s gaze traveled from your dilated pupils to your parted lips and found their home in your flushed cheeks. he wanted nothing more than to clear the table and cap off his meal with the dessert between your legs, but he wanted to know what you wanted. this was his last way to give you an out, to let you get ready of him easy. so it was only natural when he spoke next. your wide pretty eyes were clinging onto his every word as soon as his mouth opened and he itched to pull you close and kiss the air from your lungs.
“it’s up to you darling.” his voice was deep as he ground out his words. darling. with his southern drawl and your proclivity to find every word the man said to be sensual, you couldn’t even hide the chill that traveled down your spine. you were absolutely dazed as you swung your leg over his thighs and settled onto his lap. you barely fit in the space between him and the table but you didn’t care, you’d nestle in between his ribs if he let you. joel’s eyes took you in like you were the only thing in the world, studying your features and the pretty flush on your skin that seemed to go with him wherever he went. he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time with you.
“if you keep calling me darling, we’ll have to continue where we left off last night.” you leaned forward, whispering it into his good ear. joel could feel his blood traveling south, you sure knew how to make him feel young. fortunately, you were not quite on his bulge, otherwise he’s not sure either of you would be talking much longer. joel had his hands on your waist, he’d done it purposefully because if they went any south he’d have to find out just how south he could travel without you stopping him. he’d bet it was as much as he wanted.
“is that all it takes? pretty girl like you probably heard things like that often.” joel can imagine men and women alike throwing themselves at your feet. you were so damn gorgeous and good he felt like he’d won the lottery. a deep grumble resounded from your chest at his pet name once again, you’d let him do anything to you if he kept sweetening you up.
“don’t you know i’m gone for you miller?” you were slowly blinking, sleep still in your eyes and joel thought he felt his heart skip a beat. you looked like an angel sent just for him, he didn’t deserve an angel.
“i’m starting to pick up on that.” if you were far gone, joel was off the deep end.
“hmm well, it’s just you, no one else affects me like this.” you moved closer, your arms looped around his neck tightening. you could almost feel his bulge and joel had to groan as he felt his self-control slip. you smelled so good, like sex and honeysuckle. joel pressed a kiss to your forehead, you melted into him a little bit more.
“that makes us two of us sweetheart, but we should probably wait for when ellie’s not here.” he was warning you, trying to stop what was coming as he saw your eyes darken, your breathing picking up as your breast pressed into his chest.
“i can be quiet.” you were gonna be the death of him.
“tempting, but i’d rather hear you yell my name like you’ve gotten so fucking good at.” a small little smile painted your lips and joel fell a little more in love. instead of being shy, you seemed proud of yourself, like his name was made for you to scream.
“alright but go around calling me sweetheart, i might just crack.” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, your soft lips grazing against his rough beard, as you swung your leg back over and gave joel a good glimpse at your underwear.
it did nothing to help his hard-on.
since that breakfast with ellie you both had been good, stealing kisses when you could. the next night you both fell asleep with joel holding you close, just like you always did. but there was something simmering in both of you, you could feel it travel between your thighs and remain unattended. you three were having dinner at the community hall, when a girl ellie’s age asked her to watch a movie. you’d seen the girl hanging around ellie before, knew she was close with her as much as one could get to the wary teenager. “finish your dinner hon, then you can go do whatever you want.”
“is it okay if ellie sleeps over? the movie will end late.” you exchanged a look with joel, you weren’t giving up your kid that easily. you moved to stand up, the girl a little intimidated by you. you wondered if she’d start crying if joel had taken this one.
softening your expression slightly you asked, “where’s your parents?” the girl pointed in the direction of two people standing in line for food, ellie groaned in embarrassment and you ruffled her hair to tease her a bit more. it felt so plainly familiar that you thought about all the times you’d do the same with your little sister. joel couldn’t help but feel a shudder at the way you treated ellie, you always were so warm with her and he wished he could do it as easily as you did. ellie saw you as a mother, there was no doubt in his mind about that. you moved towards the couple with the girl following you. the couple was painfully normal and sweet, they seemed so well-adjusted you wondered if they’d ever even seen a clicker. despite your slight disdain for their blissful ignorance you couldn’t deny that they seemed perfectly normal and harmless. it also didn’t hurt that you were sure your ellie could take them any day of the week. with that you nodded at the parents and told the girl that ellie would find her after dinner. walking back to the table you found joel’s gaze on you, a look in his eye you couldn’t quite comprehend.
dinner passed by and joel and you said goodbye to ellie, telling her to be kind but not to hesitate to leave if she feels unsafe. it was the first night you’d spent apart since you joined them.
joel took your hand in his as you walked to the edge of town and made your way to your condo. you were surprised by his touch but welcomed it nonetheless, with joel you’d take whatever he gave you. “you think ellie’s okay right now?”
“just thinking about that myself actually.” you knew joel was as worried about her as you were. he didn’t let on just how much he worried but you knew, you could tell from the permanent frown had gotten deeper.
“we can swing by their place, i already asked maria for their address.” you and joel could probably break in and check on her but that would be a bit extreme even for you two.
“of course you did.” joel shot you a smirk, making your heart beat pick up. you both entered the home and you kicked off your boots, throwing off your jacket and hanging it up. you watched as joel did the same, taking in his broad chest that stretched against his shirt as he took off his jacket. you could watch him all day.
“gonna hop in the shower darlin’.” you nodded, slightly in a daze, following joel like a puppy as he walked towards your shared bedroom.
“can i join you?” joel pressed a kiss to your lips as he grabbed a towel and opened the bathroom door. you shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against your lips.
“how bout you just sit pretty and wait for me hm?” he motioned towards the bed and you nodded eagerly, joel found your enthusiasm maddening. he wanted you just as badly but he’d rather take you in the bed, it was the least you deserved. meanwhile you didn’t care where you were with him, as long as you could have him. after what felt like the longest 5 minutes of your life, the bathroom door cracked open, to reveal joel in only a towel around his waist. you didn’t even think twice before you padded over only in socks and one of joel’s shirts. your eyes widened as you outstretched a hand to feel the graying chest hair and maddening small gut surrounded by strong muscles. joel watched you wordlessly as your eyes narrowed at scars he’d gained over the years, your small hand inspecting and feeling whatever you could. joel felt something swell in his chest as you eyed him down, there was no hesitation in you to reach out for him. when you finally seemed satisfying joel stepped to the side so he could at least pull on a pair of boxers. your eyes never left him and joel could’ve laughed at how hungry you were for him if his mouth wasn’t salivating at the sight of your hard nipples through his fucking t-shirt.
joel toweled his hair dry, watching you as you continued to ogle him. he wasn’t any better, in the few seconds he wasn’t looking at your eyes he was taking in your curves or how he didn’t want you in anything other than his clothes. it was just as sexy as the suggestion of fabric you’d worn as lingerie before.
“come here darlin’,” you blushed instantly, moving towards him as he threw the towel to the side. your hands came up to smooth his hair down, it looked wild and you wanted to mess it for yourself later on. you raked a hand through his hair, your fingernails scraping his scalp, and joel let out a content grumble. your pussy clenched around air from the sound, you were exposed under this shirt, cool air making it clear to you how wet you were already getting. joel’s hands came up to your hips, squeezing and earning a gasp from your lips as your hands cupped his face. he pulled you closer, leaning down as he pressed a kiss to your lips, his tongue trailing the seam of your lips and you moaned out his name in response. “bed, now.” you wasted no time in backpedaling with joel’s hands still on your hips, not even breaking eye contact as you sighed out in content. when the back of your knees hit the bedframe, joel lifted you over it and dropped you onto the bed like you weighed nothing. you almost let out another whimper. joel climbed over you, his thighs caging you in as he sat up and raked over you.
“y’don’t know how long i’ve been dreaming about this,” you gasped as his hands traveled down until they reached the edge of your shirt, his rough fingertips brushing the bare skin where the shirt met your thighs. you whined and grasped the bedsheets as you tried not to just pull him to you, you were already so desperate you didn’t know know how much more you could forsake your dignity.
“how long?” you practically whined it out when his fingertips dipped under the shirt, slowly making their way up.
“ever since i saw you.” you whined out his name as his hands found their way to either side of your hips, the calluses on his thumbs created friction as they swiped along your soft skin.
“no underwear huh?” joel’s brown eyes were wide, his pupils blown out like you were sure yours were. you swallowed down as his eyes kept staring you down, staring where you needed him most.
“why waste time?” you noted, as his hands shoved the material up, past your belly-button leaving you exposed. joel pushed the material up until your breasts were exposed and your nipples poked up into the air. you would’ve felt shy if not for the low curse joel muttered under his breath. without warning the man dove down, his mouth traveling up your navel leaving kisses and bites along your center. your hands found refuge in his hair, tangling the damp strands between your fingers and pulling when he bit you a little harder than you anticipated. joel, tantalizingly slow, kissed his way to your breasts. his mouth latched onto one nipple as his fingers teased the other. the bite of his teeth, the suck of his mouth, and the rough pad of his finger felt like fire against you and it made your mind swim with desire. joel was mean to your breasts, not letting up until you could see red marks blooming on your chest. you had tried to be quiet, knowing joel didn’t want the whole neighborhood to hear you but you couldn’t help it when he pulled you between his teeth and moved away, “joel!” the fucker laughed at your reaction, pressing his now free thumb to your lips. without much thought you stuck your tongue out to lick it, joel’s grip on your hip tightened.
“want you inside.” joel’s erection was straining his boxers and you wanted to feel him, you’d beg if you had to. he nodded at your words, seemingly in a daze from your actions and words. lowering down as his hand followed and moved to finger you. he pulled your ankles to rest on his shoulders, giving him easier access. although you loved his hands, you wouldn’t last much longer, not with him looking at you like this and not with desire coursing through you more than any sensible thought. you wanted to come with him, placing a hand over his you spoke. “joel please just fuck me, i’m prepped.” joel seriously doubted that being that you struggled to take three of his fingers last time, but nonetheless he nodded and pressed a kiss to your ankle. joel pushed his boxers down, taking them off in one swift movement and your jaw dropped.
it was the biggest dick you’d ever seen, thick and long, perfectly cropped gray dark hair at the base and your mouth watered at the sight of it. despite your desire, doubt creeped into your mind, “joel it’s so big, i don’t think it’ll fit.” your words sparked a fire in him and joel had to push down the very real need to plunge into you and make you sob from the stretch but he needed to soothe your doubt. and despite your wide eyes he could see your pussy clenching on air as if begging to take him. joel had to stifle a smirk at the sight.
“you can take it doll, you’re a big girl.” you swallowed as you nodded, trusting him implicitly and sitting up as you watched him. despite your earlier comments, joel still had to check that you weren’t too tight and he didn’t need to grab lube to make it easier on you, he stuck two fingers into you, a low moan resounding from your throat at the feeling of something finally touching you where you needed. sure enough, joel found you were practically dripping. he looked from his fingers glistening from your ichor back to you with a teasing curiosity in his eyes and you just sighed in defeat, throwing your head back. joel took this time to move closer to you, your ankles going past his head as your legs glided over his shoulders, lining himself up. joel looked at you for any hesitation, except you were just looking past his face, nodding in anticipation.
joel does his best to move slowly, pushing his head in first, you gasp at the stretch. you’re burning up and yet you need more, you want him to break you. your eyes roll to the back of your head when he pushes two inches in and joel thinks he should take a picture of your face to save forever. he can keep his composure, control his speed until you look him straight in the eyes and smile so wide he thinks he might be imagining it. joel can’t help but plunge into you. your mind instantly goes numb, the stretch burning and his tip hitting your cervix, tears sting your eyes as joel gives you time to adjust, “so fucking tight pretty girl, it’s like you were made for me.” and you can’t talk, the pleasure cutting off any connection between your mind and your body. joel feels so suffocated by your pussy, he’s not sure he’ll last long, not when you look so pretty crying over his cock or when you’re so warm and wet for him he feels overwhelmed by the notion alone.
so he starts moving slowly, fractionally moving in and out, you start clenching less as your body gets used to him. it doesn’t stop the mind-numbing shock you feel when his dick kisses your cervix, but it still keeps you sane. joel feels himself going insane, even with his bad ear he can perfectly hear how fucking wet you are and the downright pornographic sounds your bodies are making. he’s still a gentleman, still has some decency to warn you before he fucks you dumb.
“safe word is texas okay.” you nod enthusiastically, clutching your breast as joel pulls out completely and fucks into you with his full length. your jaw slackens, tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, and you can’t help but scream his name. joel’s pace doesn’t relent after that, he’s bruising your cervix and your mind and body can only agree on one thing and that’s joel. you scream his name as the angle of your bodies does nothing to help the intense pleasure you feel. joel stretches you and you don’t think you could ever want another dick in your life, not when you can feel his veins imprinting on your walls, or the throb of his cock inside you. you cum when he angles himself even deeper, white painting your vision as you arch and stiffen against him, joel whispering praises as he keeps his brutal rhythm. you feel joel grow close when his grunts turn to curses and interchange with your name.
you think joel must be feeling as brainless as you do when he starts muttering, “this pussy is mine, y/n fuck can’t have anyone else after this.” you feel yourself close to another orgasm and then joel pushes against your hips, your legs stretching to get him closer, your bodies flush against each other and while you thought that joel couldn’t stretch you any more you were totally wrong. he’s dragging against your walls like he was made for them. pressing into you like he wants to put a baby in you, and you are so fucked dumb, words barely escaping your mouth as he slides in and out of you. you’re babbling nonsense and joel thinks he’s no better as he feels himself close. his thumb finds your clit, massaging until he feels you clench around him.
“come with me doll.” you cry out his name and joel takes it as a yes, his pace slowing down to an equally torturous slow and deep one. he moves to pull out and you whine. joel almost loses his mind.
“no no no please want your cum.” you’d deal with the consequences tomorrow right now you’d go crazy if you didn’t feel filled by him. and he can’t bring himself to deny you. you have tears streaming down your face from desire, and he’s not a monster. joel comes inside, burying himself to the hilt and you feel warm from his cum, feeling it fill you up and it’s so much you’re starting to think you’ll never feel fuller. when joel pulls out, your juices combined with his spill down your cunt, and joel thinks he’s worked up an appetite.
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garfunklefield · 5 months
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Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3
Red Ink
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18+ viewer discretion is advised
fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.
Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3
If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!
Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun. 
All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like … 
Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate. 
Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.
A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”
“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could. 
She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.
“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it. 
“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”
Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.
“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up. 
She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”
She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.
“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”
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Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job. 
You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold. 
The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you. 
You were never going to change until that day.
There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it. 
She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.” 
You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.” 
“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow. 
The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle. 
It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.
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The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.
“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.
The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.
Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.
You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment. 
“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.
“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both. 
He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying. 
You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?
“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity. 
Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”
You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself. 
As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind. 
The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat. 
Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek. 
His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more. 
Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords. 
Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out. 
After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?
That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it. 
One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed. 
It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands. 
This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.
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You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded. 
“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses. 
It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.
In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it. 
You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings. 
“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body. 
“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt? 
It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”
You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”
Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you… 
“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived? 
“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!! 
“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.
“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.” 
Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples. 
“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.
“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front. 
“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust. 
“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist. 
“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.
“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts. 
You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.
Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you. 
You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.  
“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.
“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds. 
You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 
“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use. 
It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick. 
The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck. 
Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.
You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?
“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon. 
There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around. 
The possession he was growing to… love.
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
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i need more konig x idol!reader 🤤🤤
Using your fans isn't good for an idol. You're a model for women and an object of desire for men - at least to the ones that bother to listen to your music. You're just one of many, another pretty face in the crowd. Group full of similar girls in similar clothes, hair fried from bleach and constant renovations, trying to chase the newest trends. Pink, blue, yellow, black, all over again until you feel your scalp is going to fall out. Konig always touches your hair with that mesmerized expression. Like he didn't quite figure out that women don't need to be chameleons to change some of their colors. When you lay your head on his lap(you're touch starved, just a bit, although you'd never admit it in front of your manager and other girls) and ask him what color he liked best, he'd always go quiet. Trying to think of your hair looking differently while probably trying to keep his cock from springing out to your cheek. He failed - you feel the tension shift, and you turn your head to the side, not wanting to accidentally give him a crush fetish. The poor guy is already in love with a bored-to-death idol from a dying label - he has enough problems on his own. You too, obviously, but at least he is giving you money and talks about his military experience. You almost feel like dance practice in a group is harder than his special forces training - but you bite your tongue before you can say that. Konig is always so...tender. Never tugging you too much, even as he ruts his cock between your thighs and pants like a dog. He looks like a puppy, an overgrown teddy bear, trying his best to not leave bruises. You know how much it pains him, the way he almost looks angry and jealous when you appear on the screen in that tiny shorts and a top, like you're trying to seduce every man in the vicinity. You know it's only a matter of time before he eventually kidnaps you. You stare at the email of your contract with the agency being terminated prematurely - something about a PR scandal, a cute idol girl being seen with some weird monster of a man - and you can't find it in yourself to be worried. Konig did promise to take care of you as his little singing bird, after all.
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