#i had to share these because why does he look so goddamn gorgeous no matter what 😩

[threnodians]

sakura aventurine edit — honkai: star rail mod

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Mostly Satoru Gojo x Reader)- It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity and confusion. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Cunnilingus, rough sex, dirty talk, objectification, spitting, overstimation, Satoru is a toxic hottie, obsessed behavior

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 11k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Chapter 3 - Masterlist

Chapter 4

Satoru's POV

Satoru sees you, in the dark of the night, and you crush his goddamn heart with those streaks down your face of tears. You step out of your VW beetle, and he cringes as he sees you have eyelashes on the headlights, flowers all over it. It looks awful, it certainly doesn’t suit someone as beautiful as you, oh if you could be his he would make sure you never had to drive anywhere.

You step up to him, still in that little dress from earlier, and the sight of the straps of your lingerie entice him to no end, falling just slightly off your little shoulders, revealing so much supple skin. Your eyes, the ones that haunt his every dream, are all puffy and red from crying, and there is an anger that takes hold of Satoru then.

What did Suguru do to you?

Whatever it is, Satoru wants to just keep you safe, if he can make you his… Could you be his? Would you? His thoughts make him ache as his gaze looks down your every curve, as you clutch your little hands together nervously, your pink purse slung over your shoulder. You’re so girly and pretty and…

What’s he doing? Just standing out here. He should ask you in, no fuck he should carry you in, like the little doll you are. Oh and to fuck you like a doll makes him so hard under his pajama pants he can’t function. To have you to himself…

Satoru shakes himself out of it, out of the thoughts of you that never stop running through his addled mind, you encompass all his thoughts lately. He’d been stroking himself to the memory of your cunt so hard his dick hurt, wishing he could have done more to you, so much more. But were you really ready to be his, or would you stay just out of reach?

It tortures him, you torture him.

Your POV

“Why does your car have eyelashes!?” Satoru demands, in the middle of the night, fuck it’s almost the morning. And you can’t stop the giggle that escapes your lips as he’s standing there shirtless, arms crossed over his chest in blue pajama pants with little cats on them.

“Why are you judging me, while you’re wearing those?” You tug at them, and he glares down at you.

“ These are comfy. That is stupid. So ugly. Like beetles aren’t ugly enough.” He shivers in disdain and you cross your arms too, scowling.

“My beetle is beautiful! Look at the flowers! Those are hand painted, I’ll have you know.”

“They’re hideous. Ugh, come in, your car is turning me off. Gonna be no dick for you.” You roll your eyes as you walk into his fancy house now, with floor to ceiling windows, modern and beautiful. It’s immaculate as you step in.

“You’re so mean. Should I even be here?” You ask, and then gasp as he’s got you pressed against the door, holding your face gently in his huge hands, and you see his mad look in those pretty blue eyes.

“I asked you here, so shut up. Okay?” You just sigh, little hands gripping his wrists then. “You want a drink?”

“Am I … staying the night?” You ask nervously, and he laughs a bit then.

“It’s almost morning. Yeah you’re staying. Drink or not?”

“Yes, thank you.” He grabs your hand and leads you toward the kitchen, eyeing you as he pops open a bottle of whiskey, you try to even your erratic breathing. “Want something to wear besides a dress?”

“You wanna see me in your clothes, huh?” He rolls his pretty eyes, and then hands you a little crystal glass filled with amber liquid.

“I’ll get you something but it’ll be huge. You’re tiny.” He didn’t answer your question, but he’s back with a soft gray shirt and black shorts. You sigh, smiling gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Toru.”

“Shut it with the nickname, brat. Go get out of that dress, mmkay. Bathroom is right there.” He points and you take a sip of the whiskey first, letting it burn, walking over to Satoru’s bathroom and changing then, his clothes are so long on you, but they’re comfy and soft.

You tie the shorts as tight as they go, peeking at your dress and lingerie, folding them with a frown, as it hits you. Suguru Geto, the man you really thought you were in love with, hadn’t even cared to see you in it. He hadn’t found you good enough to even cuddle with, to even… and you’re just done with him, now. How did someone so perfect become so…

Awful. Suguru was awful.

You weren’t the best, no you’re here with his best friend, aren’t you? But you only feel slightly better knowing you are done, but you know that this will lead to so much more drama, but you couldn’t not come here. There was so much there, in the energy between Satoru Gojo and you, that you are consumed with it.

Your phone buzzes, and you peek at it, only to see his name, and you damn near want to throw the fucking phone.

Suguru : Princess, please don’t let this be over. I am so sorry… can we please talk? I can’t wait until tomorrow.

You: Suguru I said we’d talk but I can’t. I am done. I don’t want to be treated second best any longer. Please just let it go.

Suguru: We are not done. You can’t just say that, you can’t just do that, where even are you? Let me come over.

You: And leave Shoko alone? No, don't be so rude. Treat her better than you did me.

Suguru: I don’t love her, can’t you see? I was just… hurt by how close you and Satoru were.

You scoff, rolling your eyes and glaring at the goddamn phone.

You: Bullshit. You ignored me last time with her. You can’t just blame Toru for all our problems.

Suguru: Toru!? You call him a nickname? The man that called you unattractive just Friday, the one who is mean as fuck to you? Now I know he is the problem. Me and you will fix this.

You: There is nothing to fix. There’s no us.

Suguru: You can’t mean that. Give me a chance, to show how important you are to me, to show love. We won’t play around anymore. I see that it’s hurt you and I feel like shit.

You: I’m sorry but no, it’s more than that. This isn’t fixable. You couldn’t even cuddle with me? I just felt so alone.

Your tears well back up as those sounds hit, you’re so perfect , it nearly incapacitates you.

Suguru: Just let me come see you. I can’t just write to you. Did you not even really love me at all? How can you love someone and leave?

You: I thought I was in love with you, but I don’t even know you.

Suguru: You do know me. Just let me fix it, let me make you feel special, we can get away from here and just be alone.

You: No. Throw out anything I left, and do me a favor, treat Shoko better than you did me. Wish you the best. Goodbye, Suguru.

You ignore anything else he says now, putting the phone on silent, hyperventilating damn near as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. The phone is buzzing and vibrating, shaking in a circle, and he’s calling you, so you say fuck it, and hold down the power button.

What are you doing at his best friend’s house? What future could you and Satoru have, as his best friend… if Satoru even wanted that. At the moment it seems you two are just sexual. Very sexual. Mind blowingly Sexual actually, but hate sex doesn’t equal relationship. But do you even want one?

Or do you want to feel Satoru Gojo’s lips on every inch of your body?

Want to see his eyes when they go insane blue?

Want him to say those horrible things, call you a slut, a whore even,  want him to cum in you?

Fuck.

You’re overheated, your brain is just mush, with exhaustion, heartache and something more, something new. An obsession growing with the white haired man out there waiting for you, the one who you ran to, the one who hates you. He does hate you, doesn’t he?

But his hate feels better than Suguru’s ‘love’.

You shake it off, walking out now and Satoru’s hungry gaze rakes over you, as he’s sipping his own drink, the room is dimly lit in soft light, bathing his perfect shirtless body in an ethereal glow. You eye him greedily, every beautiful muscle, every cut and line on his well formed frame.

“So, have a seat, brat.” He taps the stool next to the bar, and you rest your arms on the granite countertop, sighing as he sits next to you. “What happened?”

“He… I… Oh, shit…” You’re crying, then, and Satoru hesitates, watching as you try to swipe your tears off your face. “Sorry, fuck.”

“So it was bad. Huh?” You exhale, nodding then.

“So… Suguru has a rule that we don’t play once one of us is done, he’s always had this rule. But I woke up and… I was alone. I figured he must be crashed on the couch, but…”

“Oh shit.” He wipes a hand down his face, sighing.

“Y-yeah. Um he… well they were fucking. Obviously. But it wasn’t even that, I could forgive it even though it’s hurtful-”

“What!? Why would you forgive that? Him breaking every rule he’s created like some game.” Satoru’s anger is clear in his voice, and you tremble a bit at it. “And he sure didn’t fucking want to let you come here, so what he plays with women on his own and you have to listen ?”

“I know. I know it’s fucked up. But I would forgive him if not for-”

“You’re stupid.”

You glare at him, as you both angrily sip your drink. “Let me finish if you want to know what happened. Stop cutting me off.”

“Well if you weren’t talking so stupid I would. Why in the hell would you take him fucking in the guest room when he said, right in front of me mind you, that he would be cuddling with you.”

“I’m hurt as fuck, okay!? I am not saying it’s not so hurtful. But I get it that he wants her a lot. That I’m not enough-”

“So fucking stupid. You’re a whole idiot to think that.”

“Satoru let me finish!”

He grimaces, rolling his eyes, his white lashes fluttering, and then he touches you, hand on your thigh. You shiver at it, at the first physical contact from Satoru Gojo, alone. “Did you break up with him?”

“Yes. I did. He wouldn’t let me go unless I promised to talk to him later, he was like blocking me by the door. Trying to explain. Anyway it’s not that he fucked her, yeah it hurt, but it was what he said to her. I can’t-”

“You’re done with him though?”

Your eyes meet his, and you see it, the desperation in them, when he cups your face, studying you. “Yes I am done, I can't do it anymore. I texted him just now to let me go and have fun with Shoko-”

“So, you're done with him? Not gonna go back?”

“Done. He even did this ‘I love you’ fake confession.” Satoru snorts at that, rolling his eyes. “Satoru you won’t let me finish a sentence for shit, by the way.”

“You’ll finish all over my mouth in just a few minutes. Hurry up now.” You blink a bit then, lips parted as you gasp at his words, as his hand on your thigh squeezes, squishing the plush of your thigh with his huge grip.

“Thought you hated me?”

“Finish the reason you’re so upset, aside from the obvious. Before I occupy this pretty mouth.” His gaze is on your lips now, you involuntarily lick the lower one, making him moan.

“Jesus christ.” You sigh, and he releases you for a moment, you struggle to focus, to think. “He’s your best friend, though.”

“Yeah I know, but the way he acted around you? I don’t know where that’s coming from. I couldn’t figure out why he’d share you till I saw him with Shoko and he just ignored you. Who could ignore you!? When I saw that I just…”

“Yeah. He was moaning, loud too like he clearly didn’t care, but then he said she was perfect, the most perfect and I just-I just-” You feel a fresh onslaught of tears then, and Satoru scowls down at you.

“You’re so perfect I hate you, remember? Fuck that.” You moan when he yanks your head back, gripping you by the nape of your neck.

“Toru you say that but I don’t know why. I don’t know what you see to make you think it. I’m a bartender that drives a beetle-”

“With eyelashes on it too.” You giggle a bit, breathless in his grasp, but he’s so serious as his fingers are sliding up under his shorts, and you’re getting wet just from that. “Terrible taste in aesthetics aside, you’re so gorgeous it kills me.”

“Satoru…” You whisper, as he’s leaned close, his sweet breath on your lips and you drink it in, his desire, his words.

“You are, goddamn brat. Don’t expect sappy fucking words, don’t expect me to call you a Princess, but I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget anything he said. Anything he did.”

“Satoru!” You cry out when he finds you, slick and dripping already.

“Did he touch you at all? When I left?” He’s rubbing your clit in little circles, and you moan, shaking your head. “He’s so stupid. When I’m finished with you? There will be nothing left for him. You’ll feel nothing for him anymore.”

His dark words scare you a bit, but your pussy is too wet for you to care, in fact you’re soaking his hand more and more, hands clinging to his bare shoulders, as you ache to kiss him, but he holds just out of reach. His blue eyes stare at you so hungrily you can’t function, the energy between you both so vivid you could touch it, could feel it in every breath.

“I hate you, Satoru.” You whisper, blinking back tears before gasping out at how good his fingers play you, pressing on your little clit.

“Yeah, do you baby?” He huffs out the words.

“If you never looked at me like that, if you never acted like that, I’d have never known Suguru didn’t really want me.” You speak through your tears, breathy as your cheeks tinge pink, and Satoru slides a finger inside of you, his lips parting.

“He’s fucking stupid, how could he not want you? Look at you. Kill me just existing, soaking my hand and making that face?” You cry out when he’s crooking his finger inside you, when the other hand grips your neck, you’re melting in his grip, you crave him so much.

“The things you say fuck me up.” You whine out, then moan again as he hits that spot inside you.

“I haven’t started fucking you up yet, baby.” He slides his hand out and you feel empty, then he’s picking you up like you’re nothing, sitting you up on the high bar then, sliding your shorts down your thighs. You shiver as the cool air hits your overheated cunt and his eyes eat it up, licking his lower lip.

“Toru…” He scowls, gripping your hips tight, fingers pressing into your pelvis now, as he leans his head down, snowy white hair falling over a perfect brow.

“Now I can finally take my fucking time, lick you till you beg for me to stop, but I won’t.” You whine at that, bucking your hips up and he smirks down at you. “Beg for me, for me to give this slutty little pussy what she needs.”

“Please, please… I want your mouth on me.” You beg, and Satoru laughs now, his breath so hot on your sensitive little cunt you scream out, legs shaking just from that, as he pulls your lips apart.

“Make you forget his name, forget he ever touched you.” The possessive words and how wild his eyes are make you lose any sense of anything, you grab at his silky white hair then, as he’s still just breathing on you.

“Then get down there, Satoru. Make me forget.” He growls, then he’s buried himself between your thighs, hungry as he laps up the wetness dripping down your slit, you arch your back, gasping. “Satoru!”

“Slutty little cunt,” he’s whispering against you, nipping at your clit with his teeth, the sensation making your tummy clench, making your entire body overheat, and then he devours you, and it’s nothing like what he did with the threesome, no he’s lapping every inch of you up, shoving his tongue in your entrance, nose bumping your sensitive little clit.

You’re pulsing around the wet muscle inside your walls, and his groan vibrates against you, until you’re cumming all over his face, head smacking back on the counter as you see stars.

“Oh my f-fuck- ah Toru!” He’s lavishing you up, every bit of your cunt now, drinking up everything he makes pour from you, and you can’t handle it, your legs are shaking in his tight grip. “Oh my god! Sensitive…”

“Hey brat, so who is Suguru to you?” Satoru asks, darkly, and you blink in confusion then, as you come down from your high.

“My… I guess my ex now? Ah fuck!” He smacks your pussy then, smirking and shaking his head as you glare. “The fuck?”

“When I’m done you won’t be able to answer.” His words drive you insane, that look on his perfect face, as he pulls back, spreading your lips of your sex wide and the saliva is spit from his mouth onto your pussy.

Satoru’s POV

God just look at you, spread wide on his counter, all flushed from having cum all over his face, and fuck you tasted so good, you’re dripping down his chin. Now he’s watching his spit fall on this perfect cunt of yours, watching it drip down all clear, bubbly and sticky, mixing with the stupid amount of wetness drooling out between these puffy lips of yours.

He watches as it hits that tiny clit, just dripping, and he reaches down to spread it around, smirking as you look down at him, back arched, still in his huge shirt but he sees those nipples poking right out, sees your mouth loll open. He bends down then, spreading you even wider, finger running down and feeling that slick heat, before sinking one inside you, making you cry out again.

“Satoru!” Your name on his lips ignites a fire in him, and he’s so hard it physically hurts, he uses one hand to adjust himself in his boxers as the other hits that spot he’s found, the one that makes you tremble and whine. “Ohmy- Satoru!”

“Like that, little slut? Me fingering you right here?” You gasp when he hits your spot again, crooking his finger just so in your little gummy walls, so tight it’s hard for him to sink two in you, but you’re so wet you suck him in. “Right there, baby?”

“Y-yes. There. Oh my… cumm- cumming, fuck…” You’re gripping the edge of the counter so hard your little knuckles are white, your thighs trembling like crazy as he fucks you with two fingers, and you start soaking his hand down to his wrist, pulsing around them and making him groan.

But he’s not done with you, not by a long shot, not until you’re a writhing mess, not until he has you so sweaty and your hair so messy, not until you forget anyone but he exists. The thought of anyone ever inside of this perfect little pussy makes him want to fuck you until you can’t even remember your own name, much less anyone else’s, not when you’re all he can think of.

So Satoru licks up your sweet wetness, flicking his tongue on your clit and watching you fall apart under his licks, and he groans at how sweet you taste. “Satoru s'fucking good, ngh.”

He loves your slurring words, your hips rocking, he pulls back and adds a third finger, stretching you open and watching with rapt attention as your pussy takes him, so eager, so hungry, as you wince in pain, trying to grab at his wrists, but he smacks your little hand away.

“Too much, Toru… it’s too much ah! Please…”

“Who is Suguru, baby?” He whispers, and your eyes roll back when he fucks you with those three fingers, whining and gripping at nothing.

“My ex, he’s my ex. I’m not with him. Please!” He laughs then, shaking his head, and your glazed over eyes meet his, your hips jerking up as you pour wetness down onto his hand again, dripping on the counter.

“Not good enough, not even close.” He huffs, and then he’s got them all the way inside you.

Satoru watches as you are moaning and whining, and that’s what he loves, the way you sound so desperate. He's eating the vision of you up and burning it in his brain as he stretches you beyond your means with those three fingers, and you start bucking up into his hand, your breaths coming in ragged pants as he fucks you faster, harder, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum again, brat, I know you can. You’re so easy, aren’t you?” You just whine, mumbling incoherently, and he starts shoving up your shirt, hand pressing on your soft tummy, making more pressure. “Say it.”

“I’m easy, I’m so easy! Mnh!” Fuck you’re sexy, god he can’t even handle those words, that face, the feeling of your walls clenching him. He can’t wait to cum inside of you, the thought has him leaking through his boxers and his pajamas, a wet spot forming as he dreams of slipping inside.

“That’s right, you’re fucking slutty for me, baby. Cum again, let me feel it.” And he bites down on your plush thigh, just enough to leave a mark, and your eyes roll back as you do exactly that, cumming all over his hand again, your cunt contracting around his fingers so tight it’s like a vice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Satoru !” Your voice is hoarse from screaming, and he loves it, he loves that he’s the one making you feel like this, that he’s the one you’re begging for now. He pulls his fingers out, watching them glisten with your juices, and brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean, watching you watch him do it with a hazy look of desire.

You taste so good. Like honey. He can never get enough now.

And then he’s leaned up, pressing his mouth to yours, brushing back your hair, feeling the sweat beading on your forehead, and he yanks off his shirt you're wearing, revealing those gorgeous tits. “Taste how sweet you are?” You nod, shyly, how can you be shy at this moment he doesn’t know. “I hate how good you taste.”

“Y-you do?” He laughs, harshly, nodding, as he starts sucking on your breasts, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, and then his hand slides back down, his thumb sliding over your clit again, making you jolt. “Satoru it’s too much.”

“Again.” He orders, and your eyes lock with his in a daze. “You’ll cum again, and again, and again, until it’s only me.”

Satoru presses up on your swollen little clit and you make that little whine from the back of your throat, the sound that entices him to no end, the sound that wrecks him. You’re clinging to him now, little hands pulling at his hair and making him leak that precum more, as he delights in sucking each perky nipple into his mouth, as your back arches.

“Satoru I can’t again. Please.” You whimper once more, and he chuckles, looking up at you.

“Cum one more time and I’ll fuck you, like the pretty whore you are.” Your eyes go wide, your lips parting, and your pretty breasts are heaving right in front of his face, while you drip down his fingers, slippery. “So wet I can’t keep my fingers on your clit, such a slut for me, huh?”

“For you.” Those words wreck him, and when he slams his lips on yours, and you lick yourself off him greedily, he doesn’t know if he can hang on much longer. The heat from your little body, pressed against him, as he flicks his fingers on your clit side to side, until you’re drooling from your lips and your cunt. It’s too much for him.

“For me, you sure? Not lying to me?” You shake your head, screaming out then and clutching his shoulders with your manicured nails, the pink glittery ones that he hates, making him hiss in pain and pleasure.

“N-not lying, Toru! Ngh! Please!” You have tears in your beautiful eyes, fuck he had never even seen that exact color, that’s why you haunt him so, why are you so beautiful as you cum again, panting and shivering in his grasp.

“Good girl.” He murmurs finally, and he sees it, the look on your face, you’re cock drunk on him, dazed and listless. He picks you up, and you eagerly wrap your legs around his bare waist, your hands clinging to him. Your head falls back, and he’s sucking on your delicate throat, so tiny he can’t wait to wrap his big hand around it once more.

“I’ve never felt like this. Ever.” You whisper, and he pulls back to look at you, at the tears running down your long lashes, dripping little trails of black mascara. Those words he could have never thought true.

“I hate you.” He whispers, to make it true, to avoid the truth , but instead of getting upset, you cling to him, lips just a breath away.

“Fuck me like you hate me then.”

Fuck .

Your POV

At that Satoru Gojo is carrying you to his room in long, sure strides, his mouth brutal as it works over yours, his grip so tight you can’t breathe. You are trembling in his hold, as the aftershocks of the nonstop orgasms are still pulsing in your little cunt, sore from how much he’d stretched you out, but fuck you loved it, you wanted even more, you want everything.

Fuck Satoru made you feel so good, even with his harsh words and tone, even with the rough way he’s grabbing you, you want it, you need it. Satoru Gojo consumes every bit of you, as you feel his panting breaths on your lips, the only sign that he’s as lost in this as you, the rest of him showed this insane confidence.

“Want me to fuck you like I hate you?” Satoru murmurs, and you nod eagerly, as he’s slamming you on his stupidly big comfy bed. It’s got four huge posters that you briefly imagine being tied to, before he’s sliding off his pants and you see his pretty, long cock bounce out.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmur, without thinking, and Satoru scowls, gripping you by the hair and making you look up at him.

“You’re so beautiful you haunt me.” At that your mouth is just wide open, but he has you flipped within moments, on your hands and knees on the bed, and he’s pulling at your hair again. “Arch your back.”

You shiver at the command, obeying instantly, and then he’s lined up with your entrance, whining out. “Satoru, please…”

“So desperate.” He’s plunged his cock into you then, to the hilt this time, and you’re screaming out at how deep he hits, his big hands gripping your hips now, your head just falls forward, and you hear his moan behind you.

Your hands dig into his expensive blanket, soft and plush in your stupidly tight grip, and then he starts moving and fuck he moves hard. He’s thrusting hard, his cock dragging along your walls, so thick it’s stretching you beyond your means. You’re gushing as he slams into you, again and again, rougher than you’ve had, rougher than you can handle.

“Fuck you like I hate you, huh?” He huffs, working over you, and then one hand shoves your head into the mattress, muffling your cries, as he bends forward and keeps stroking inside of you, bruising your cervix with each hit, the smacks echo inside Satoru’s room.

“Mnhh…” You just moan into the mattress, it’s hard to breathe between the thrusts that are wrecking your little cunt, as he works on you brutally, but you’re close, you feel it, throbbing around his cock, and he pauses for a moment.

“Fuck it’s like you’re made for me.” You hear him whisper, and then he’s fucking you slower, pressing in so deep he’s inside your cervix, yanking your hair back up and your hair is falling all over your sweaty forehead as he pulls you. You’re helpless in his hold, all you can do is whimper. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes. S’much I… love it.” He pauses again, breathless and rolling his hips then, making you fall apart. “Cumming, cumming… mnh!” You scream out, shattering around him, gushing down his length, and he groans, hand digging into your hip so hard it’s bruising. You’re cumming so hard you’re shaking violently, unable to catch a breath, it’s like you’re suffocating on him.

“Who is Suguru to you?” You whine as he pushes you down on your tummy now, sprawling prone position on top of you with his long body. “Asked you a - ha - question, fucking brat.”

“ Satoru… I-I can’t…” He groans over you, his breath hot on your neck as he brushes your hair off it, running his tongue along the side as he’s pressing deep inside, and you’re close to falling off the edge of the Earth. So much pleasure you see stars burst behind your eyes, dripping down to his fancy blankets, crumpling as he moves over you.

“Look at me.” You turn your head, your neck sore from earlier, and he cups your chin and you peer into those eyes, bright blue and blown out, his breath on your lips, and you fall…

You’re falling.

How and why?

It’s bad.

Or is his dick that good!?

“Satoru…ah!” You cry out softly as he wraps one arm around to find your clit, so sore and puffy you jerk, causing his cock to hit a spot that feels so good you’re embarrassingly pouring out, cumming again, unable to control anything.

You bite your lower lip as he watches you, so intense, his eyes maddening as he slowly rocks into you, watching every expression on your face. “Answer me, now. Who… is… Suguru to you?” He speaks between thrusts, and your eyes are rolling back in your head. “Ah-ah, look at me.”

He’s blurring right in front as you struggle to focus, to overcome the insane need that he fills you with, his presence is like air. “Wh-what… Satoru I don’t…”

He smirks then, cocky and self assured, like the Satoru you knew. Did you know him then, though?

“Good Girl, that’s what I thought.” He murmurs, and then he’s kissing you, gently now, not fucking you rough, no he’s consuming you with each slow roll of his hips, as his long cock bullies through every barrier.

“S’good, it’s s’good… can’t… think…” Your voice is breathy as you struggle to keep to this existence, but Satoru is pushing you over that edge, as you taste his sweet lips on yours, his tongue swirling with yours, messy, desperate.

“You feel so fucking good. Fuck.” He grunts out those words, releasing your clit to sink two fingers in your mouth, and you’re drooling around them, as his cock’s strokes are harsh, smacking sounds so loud mixed with the squishing of your wetness.

“Ah! Ah oh my god…” You scream out sloppily around his thick fingers, ass arching against his abdomen for even more of the brutal thrusts. They fuck you up so good you truly can’t function, just a whimpering mess under him.

“Who is Suguru?” He huffs again, and lets his fingers slide out of your lips, to wrap around your little throat, taking over you. Your eyes flutter shut, and he squeezes tightly, sucking out your oxygen. “Look at me, with those eyes that torture me.”

You can’t figure his words out, you don’t even know where you are, all you can do is blink stupidly and gasp as he works over you. “I don’t know.”

He moans then, sounding so sexy, hot against your mouth, sweat dripping from his chest onto your back, as he grinds between your thighs. “I’m gonna cum in this perfect pussy, I’m gonna fill you up so full, got me baby?”

You nod weakly, your little hands reaching up, one cupping his face, the prettiest face that holds so much anger, but now how he looks? Like he’s as blissful as you, drunken gaze damn near, and he seems vulnerable for just that moment. His words sink in, what he’s going to do, something you never have, but your cunt merely tightens around him in excitement.

“I want you to, Satoru.” You whisper, his thin white brows sink low over his eyes, long white lashes covering half of those baby blues, as he lightly squeezes your throat, sighing against your mouth.

“You’ve never?” He asks, and you shake your head just a centimeter or two, making him groan. “Good. Good I want to be the first to fill you. And not just once, I’ll keep filling you, till you can’t walk out of this bed.”

His dark words should scare you, but now, you’re starting to build into another climax, though he’s barely moving now, it’s all you, grinding eagerly, helplessly for more of him, fuck you can’t get enough of him. He’s squeezing your throat ever so gently, but putting more and more pressure, until you feel like you’re floating, now you feel him throbbing, thickening so deep.

“Fill me up, please . Toru… I want it.” He groans, slamming his lips on yours, then he’s rolling his hips, shuddering behind you, crying out all his pleasure into your lips, you drink it greedily, crying out as he presses in so deep you can’t remember where he ends and you begin, losing more breath as he overtakes you.

“Need you to take it all, like a good little slut. Just for me.” You just whine, and now hot white puffy ropes of Satoru’s cum are filling your eager hole, and you scream out, choking nearly as he groans, gripping you so tight as he’s drooling into your mouth. “Mmm… f-fuck…”

He’s stuttering as he groans, as he keeps filling you, and you’re cumming so hard you’re shaking, his cum and yours just gushing down his cock, down your thighs, sticky and messy, and he’s still pumping. Your head falls to the side, against Satoru’s forehead, and he’s crying out in your ear, hand releasing your throat just to grip your hair, pushing his cum deeper inside you.

“S-Satoru… Satoru…” You’re whining, tears streaming down your cheeks, and he whimpers right with you, trembling arms around you, his breath on your ear, tickling it, every sense is heightened.

“Why do you have to feel so perfect?” He grunts the words, and you just pathetically whine, you’re incapable of anything else. “Smell so good, taste so good, look so good… now I feel this .” He thrusts again, and you’re so oversensitive you’re sobbing now, so sore as he’s still hard and thick in you.

“It’s too much. It’s all too much.” You sob out the words, and he chuckles a bit, husky as he turns your face to meet his, gripping your cheeks.

“You’re pushing it all out, baby. That won’t do.” You tense, and he’s off you then, flipping you on your back and looming over you, eyes locked on yours. “I need you to take it all, remember?”

“I did… what-ah! Fuck, too much no!” You’re squirming as he’s shoving his cum that’s slid out of you back in, grinning deviously as he watches you fall apart. “Too sensitive, too-”

“No, baby you can take it like a perfect little slut for me. Can’t you?” He cooes those words, shoving his long fingers in your sore little cunt again, and you can’t stop the tears, breasts heaving and drawing his attention. He begins sucking on them, leaving red marks shimmering with his saliva, messy kisses everywhere as he shoves more inside you.

Your fingernails grip his shoulders, hips bucking under his touch. “Satoru I can’t even fucking breathe. Please.”

“Oh baby I’m just getting started with you.”

You cry out in pain as he shoves even more, and it’s just pouring down his long fingers with the pressure in your tummy as you’re just dripping out. You blink a bit, sputtering stupidly, as he finally lets your cunt go and slips those fingers into his own mouth, moaning.

Fuck he’s hot.

“Satoru…”

“We taste perfect together. I fucking knew we would.” He’s on top of you, his hot, hard chest drenched in sweat, his big hands cupping your face, taking you over. “Wanna taste us baby?”

You nod, weakly and he chuckles. “Y-yes. I want to.”

“Hmm…” He takes more of both of you, shoving it in his mouth, then he’s pressing his other fingers on your lips. “Open.”

You do as he says, then he’s spitting in your mouth, a mix of your wetness, his cum and saliva, and you eagerly let him, though this is far beyond anything you’ve done. This is insane shit you see in porn right? But no, Satoru Gojo is spitting in your mouth, once, twice, three times, grinning then down at you.

“Swallow. Now.” You eagerly do as he bids, letting the salty liquid slips down your throat, and he moans, you feel him rock hard on your inner thigh again, as his pretty blue eyes are so bright it hurts. “Open up, lemme see.” You do as he says again, fuck any command Satoru Gojo made right now you’d do. “Good girl.”

“Holy fuck.” He chuckles, and you yank him down, slamming your lips up to his, and his laugh stops, he’s groaning in your mouth, hands sliding up your body slowly, squeezing every curve. “What even is this? Is this normal for you?” You whisper then, leaning back, and his lips thin into a line.

“No, it’s not. I need you. Again.” He’s yanking your thighs apart, and you shake your head nervously. “Aw, sore baby?”

“Yes I’m sore! You’re huge, and I came too much!” He’s grinning, and you roll your eyes then. “You sure love my pussy for hating me.”

“I hate how much I love it. How much I need it. If I never tasted it, if I never knew… I could have pictured it wasn’t this good. But fuck you for it.” You scowl now, and he’s grinning even wider at it. “You’re gorgeous angry. Hate how much I love that too.”

“I hate how much your dick fucks my mind up. How much you fuck my mind up.” He’s laughing again, lips on yours, smacking kisses as he pulls your hips down, and he’s pressing against you again. You whine out in pain. “Psycho.”

“Oh baby you have no idea.” He’s back inside you, and you scream out, in a mix of pleasure and pain, gripping him tight on his strong arms as he looms over you, his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. “Oh my fuck… it’s always so perfect.”

“Satoru, so so sore… please go easy.” You whisper, breathless, and you imagine he’d laugh, fuck you harder… but his eyes lock, and he leans down, brushing your messy hair back and stroking your cheek.

“I won’t hurt you.” His words carry far too much weight, and it’s like you see a different side of him suddenly, you nervously bite your lip and hiss as he slides out and in your little cunt. “I need more of you. More.”

“Then take it.” He groans and slams his lips down on you, down your face, down your neck, his grip and kisses so hard as his cock gently rocks inside you, not trying to hurt you, but your walls are so wrecked it still stings. But it’s so good , the burn, the pressure, the stretch, that you’re teetering off the fucking edge again. “Oh my god, you feel so… fuck so good in me, Toru.”

“Hate that name from your perfect lips.” He hisses those words, kissing your lips again to shut you up, rolling his hips up and grinding the leaking tip against your g spot, and you start spasming, screaming out as the pressure explodes, and you cum again, getting weak now, clinging to him. “Can’t take it, can you? Did he not fuck you good enough, baby?”

“Wh-who? What? Huh- ah! Toru!” He’s smiling against your lips now, perfect full lips curling up on the sides, resting his forehead on yours as he steadily pumps, so easy with you.

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy again. You’ll be dripping me out for days, won’t you baby?” Your eyes roll back, as your hips arch off the bed and he’s pressing in, then he does something… so intimate, entwining his hands in yours, fingers interlocking. You’re trembling as he raises them above your head.

You look up at him, chest heaving with the effort it takes to breathe anymore, as his scent fills your nostrils, mixed with the sex in the room of both of your bodies, and you’re soaking him with each easy push inside you. He inhales, and he has no right to be so attractive, no right to make you feel so much, no right to hold your goddamn hands like he loves you.

He hates you.

“Look at you.” You bite your lip, eyelashes lowering over your eyes, glazed over from being fucked so good. “You’re too pretty. It makes me so fucking mad.”

“Why? Why do you say shit like this? Ah!” He presses in, hands squeezing yours, glittering blue eyes eating up your every feature as he moans.

“Because it’s true. I need you to be mine. Do you fucking get it?” He’s let one hand go, the other cupping your cheek, thumb under your chin and pressing in so deep you’re screaming, pulsing around him, pressure in your tummy so intense it’s difficult to form a word or a thought.

“Yours? You don’t want that.” He scoffs, scowling down and shoving in so deep he’s in your damn stomach, fuck you feel Satoru in your throat, choking you up, tears back in your eyes as it’s too overwhelming.

“You don’t know what I want, fucking brat.” Your eyes go wide, and he glares down at you then. “You don’t know how you kill me.”

“I don’t mean to. Mnh Toru! Fuck it’s too much.”

“No, you do it by existing. You’re made to ruin me.” You’re shaking your head, so confused by him, but fuck if those words and that look don’t make you fall deeper into the abyss that is Satoru Gojo.

“That’s you for me. Ruin me though. I w-want you to.” He growls nearly, slamming his lips down and going hard for just a minute, ripping through your already wrecked cunt, and you’re screaming, head lolling to the side and he’s biting your neck with those sharp teeth, surely bruising you.

“Baby I haven’t ruined you like you have me. But I will. Beg for it, for me to fill you up. Breed this pussy.” His words make you shudder, cumming hard and trying to cling to him, to keep tethered to earth, but everything is slipping.

“Pl-ease, Toru, please. Cum in me.” He’s hoarsely grunting, drips of his sweat from his brow landing on your lips, as he works over you, hungry, his cock thickening impossibly again.

“Cum with me, be a good girl yeah?” You nod eagerly, and he picks up the pace, hurting your sore little cunt in the worst way, your thighs squeezing his hips tightly, until you feel him again. “F-fuck… oh my god!”

He’s whimpering in your ear as he clings to you, pumping you so full you can’t take it, your nails digging in hard, marring his perfect skin as you’re pulsing all around him and he’s hot inside you. Fuck he cums more than last time some how, and you feel so rubbed raw as the heat spreads, as it drips all down your lips and down his shaft, and he pumps slow, looking down at you.

“You cryin’?” He whispers, and you just nod, as he brushes those tears, kissing you so passionately you’ve felt nothing like it in your life. You sob against his lips, and he sips up your salty tears with every kiss, more desperate than the last, his hands so tight on your face it hurts. “Who’s Suguru?”

You blink at that, taking a trembling breath, choking on your sobs, feeling his hunger, his madness, and it’s taking you over. Wrecking your mind, your heart, your very soul is ripped apart and bare under him. He’s watching carefully, studying you with those dilated eyes, and you raise your own hands, cupping his face.

“No one.” He moans at your answer, pulling you up against his body, squeezing you so tight you’re breathless, Satoru is your breath.

“That’s right, baby. It’s all me, isn’t it?” You nod weakly, and he exhales, kissing you over and over, sliding out of you, and it’s so messy, all the cum he’d pumped in you, you wince at the pain you feel pulsing in you.

“It’s nothing but you.” His eyes water then for a moment, making them brilliant like sapphires, but they were prettier than any gem could be.

“Now you have a taste of what I’ve gone through since we met.” You shake your head in confusion.

“You can have anyone.”

“I sure can. But it’s you who haunts me. Every goddamn minute.” You try to understand him but it’s difficult to feel so desired, so needed. And by Satoru Gojo of all people. Just earlier today Suguru was holding you, but he seems so distant, it’s like you can’t remember anything but Satoru now.

What this man does.

He looks down at your cunt as he sits back on his knees, smirking and touching your slit, making you suck in a breath. “Satoru, it really hurts.”

“I see it, all red and swollen. Beat up. Poor little pussy.” He bends down, kissing it with a loud smack, and laughing as your hips jerk, your legs still shaking violently.

“Fuck is this where you kick me out? Because you’re gonna have to carry me out. I’m fucked.” He smirks, looking down at you, the mess he’d made.

“We’ll go clean you up, then you can stay here and get cuddles. From me. Is that what you want though?”

“You’d cuddle me, Satoru Gojo?”

“Why not. I’m the best at it.”

“But you hate me.” He smiles, easing you up, your entire body is boneless and you feel like fainting damn near. He takes in every bite mark, every hickey, every place he’d grabbed that’s bright red, your tears down your sticky cheeks.

“The thought of you in my arms kills me.” You gasp, and he’s turned away then, helping you up on wobbly legs. “Let’s clean up. Shower?”

“I’ll just sit there, I’m wrecked.” He snorts, then bends down, scooping you up in his big arms.

“You’re such a prissy brat. Do I gotta carry you everywhere?” You’re blushing, being in his arms like this? His hands under your thighs as the other holds you right under your breasts?

Fuck.

You’d let this man carry you to hell. What even was this man?

Inhuman level fuck!?

You can’t form a coherent thought aside from your throbbing cunt, so sore you will feel it for days, and the beautiful man holding you carefully, like he cared, but he didn’t and he couldn’t. Was this a game to him, were you a pawn in something? Or did he truly want you that much? There’s no way, right?

Satoru’s POV

Satoru carries you like the delicate little doll you are, even as he complains he relishes holding you so close. Your arm is around his neck, your other hand pressed on his chest, over his heart, where it pounds for you. He carries you to his huge bathroom, watching your face, but you don’t even look at the marble tiles and the gorgeous fixtures, no you look at him .

Your eyes are stuck on his face, wide, tears dried on your cheeks, fuck you look beautiful crying, crying for him . You’re so full of him, aren’t you? You can’t even focus on anything, with your glazed over eyes, with your reddened lips, bit and sucked by him. Your perfect breasts are covered in red spots, as they gently heave up and down with your shaky breaths.

Fuck now that he’s cum in you, he can’t ever let you go.

How could he even let you leave, let you go to work, when now he wants to keep you here forever, he wants to keep cumming in you, so much you’ll get pregnant with his babies. Fuck the thought of that gets him hard again, and even he is sore, cumming so much for you, inside you, your walls having sucked every greedy drop, as your eyes had rolled back in your head.

Seeing you cum was so fucking beautiful it punched him in the gut, but to cum with you!? To taste how good your arousal was mixed with him? And for you to have just swallowed too… it was like anything he said, you did without hesitation, cock drunk off him and dazed. Could you truly feel that way for him too?

No, there was no way you were as obsessed as him.

Satoru remembers the day he met you as he sits you up on his sink, turning to run the hot shower, watching the waterfall as it heats up, starting to steam up the bathroom. You patiently wait, he watches your shaky hands on your lap, as you’re completely naked for him, as if you’re nervous, crossing your arms just a little bit, making him yank them down.

“Don’t ever hide your body from me.” He speaks through gritted teeth, and you shyly look down, nodding, letting him brush your hair back. It’s messy and damn from all of your exertions. “I dreamed of your body.”

“Why, Satoru? I’m still confused.” Your voice is shaky and soft, like it took effort for you to speak.

“Why? What a stupid fucking question.” He runs his hands over every perfect curve of you, watching your skin trail in goosebumps, watching your every sense come alive under his touch.

“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur, sliding you little hands up his chest, then down his abdomen, fuck it feels so good he trembles. You make him whimper, tremble, shake… the fuck did you do to him!?

“Thanks for what?”

Your eyes land back at his, your lashes spiky from crying, your cheeks are flushed, a blush decorating even your little nose. “Thank you for tonight.”

He should be thanking you, fuck you make no sense.

“For cumming in you?”

Now you’re bright red, looking away again. You always get so shy over nothing, he notices, tilting your chin back up, and he sees something in your gaze that tears his fucking chest out. How could you feel the same, he’s an idiot, there is no way… is it because you came so much? Is it an afterglow?

“No, thank you for making me feel beautiful. Special.” He frowns then, because he has not even begun to worship your body.

“You’re a beautiful, annoying fucking brat. Who I still hate.”

You smile a bit. “You hate me for existing, huh.”

“Sure fucking do. C’mon, let’s clean up.” He drags you to the tiled shower, the water scalding hot, pulling you under the spray, watching rivulets drip down your perfect body, the one you always try to hide, the one he’ll never let you feel insecure about again if he has a say. “I said don’t hide.”

“S-sorry, Satoru.” You stand taller, shoulders back, making your tits all perky and making him stupid.

“Fuck you.” You blink, rightfully confused, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fuck you for being so pretty.”

You giggle a bit then, and your smile? Fuck it makes him ache. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, it will crush him, if you don’t end up being his. He’s never had you like this, had every part of you, and now his hands grip your arms, making your laugh sober a bit, as that faded look of desire hits your pretty face.

“Am I funny to you?” You shake your head, stepping closer, against Satoru’s body, so small and soft and perfect.

“I just really don’t get you. You're stupidly pretty. Why do you find me…”

“That insecurity shit will get this pussy wrecked again. I’ll fuck you till you forget you have an insecurity. Got me?” Your lips part, and you look confused, brows drawing together.

“It’s like you care about me, Satoru.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Just annoying is all.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Stop smirking brat. Let me wash you.” His hands suds up, and he caresses every bit of your silky smooth skin, relishing in every gasp, every whine, every time your eyes flutter shut. Every time that head falls back.

“Fuck this feels good.” You murmur, as he’s washing your lucious hair, piling it up and then getting the shower head to rinse the suds out. God this is what he never dreamed of, pampering you, just for a moment.

You deserve everything.

Would you truly be his though?

Soon you all are drying up, and you’re in his clothes from earlier, the sunlight streaming in, birds tweeting loud and annoying, the sound of cars passing by all in the distance. You’re glowing, a small smile on your gorgeous face, as you dry your hair on a fluffy white towel, and Satoru’s heart thuds in his chest, words stuck in his throat at how the sun rising illuminates your skin.

You’re so beautiful.

Not a speck of that makeup you always wear, your hair is drying all stringy and wavy, not straightened like he notices you do. You always make sure you look perfect, but how perfect are you like this? And how can he tell you, how can he open up, when he’s terrified.

“You look good without makeup.” Fuck, that’s all Satoru can manage, huh, but you smile softly, looking down a bit.

“Oh, thank you. I don’t usually go without any.”

“Well you don’t need it.” He’s being too nice. “You do it stupidly anyway, too much pink shit.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “Uh huh. I do like blush.”

“Welp you’re always bright red around me.”

“And will I be around you?” You both go silent, and Satoru feels like someone punched him in his stomach, until you walk up to him, taking him by the hands. “Or now that you got what you wanted will you tell me to fuck off.”

“What!? You’re so stupid.” He glares down at you, and you glare back, and fuck if you angry didn’t make him hard.

He’s always hard around you.

“Well I mean you hate me, where does this go?”

He doesn’t know what to say. How does Satoru tell you he’s wanted you since the moment he walked into that bar you worked at, and you hadn’t even seen him, no you were working. But he had watched you, sitting back at a table, terrified of the insane feeling he had, only to leave and tell Suguru.

Then guess who Suguru comes in with just a couple of weeks later?

You.

And he had to act like it was fine. Because he’d been too scared to come up to you, and why? Satoru could pull any woman, he’d had countless models, actresses, wealthy women, beautiful women. But you outshined any woman, not just your gorgeous looks, everything about you. And now he has a chance, but he’s scared again, he hates you making him feel this way.

“I’m not just having this be one night. No fucking way, brat. Think you’re getting off easy huh?” You bite that lower lip, and he pulls it out of your teeth’s grip with a thumb, frowning down at you. “Stop eating your lips off. How can I kiss them?”

“Oh Satoru… fuck.” You’re tearing up again, and he sighs.

“Crybaby.”

“Shut it. You say sweet things then hide them being a dick . You scared of something?”

You know him so well how?

But he glares.

“Nah, just saying. You’re not getting off so easy. Well… you do get off easy, don’t you baby?” He cooes, all condescending as he pulls you to him, but you melt at his words, melt at everything he says.

“You want to do this again? Are you sure? What about…”

“Don’t bring it up. And want isn’t the word. I need this again.”

“Satoru…”

“Shut up and come to bed. It’s morning, you’ve kept me up all goddamn night and I need some sleep.” He drags you now, and soon he’s spooning you, and fuck you feel so right in his arms.

He hates that you were in Suguru’s arms.

He hates that Suguru is his best friend and right now he hates him. He hates everything about you.

“This is so nice, ugh.” You whisper, sinking into his embrace, your ass pressed back against his lap, as he inhales the sweet scent of your skin from the shower, you’re so warm against him. “I run hot, so you know.”

“Well I get cold, so fuck it.” You giggle, fuck he loves that sound, but when you look back he’s glaring. He can’t let you know how stupidly happy you make him by just breathing near him. “What?”

“Nothing. You feel comfy, Satoru.” You brush his drying hair back, and he damn near purrs, nothing feels better than your fingers against his scalp.

“Comfy huh?” You just nod, smiling softly, and you lean up a bit.

“Is it cool to kiss outside of sex? Or is that all this is.” Satoru’s heart is pounding, his tips of his ears red as he burns up at that.

“Is that all you want? Me to fuck you stupid.”

“No, it’s not all I want. But if it’s all it is, I’ll take it.” He frowns at you then, and you look down, lashes casting shadows on perfect cheeks, over the dark circles under your eyes.

“You’ll take just getting fucked by me, really?”

“Yeah.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“Well that’s not all I want from you.” Your mouth opens, and he just stares at you, as he holds your body close, feeling the heat warm through him. “You can kiss me if you want.”

You lean up and gently brush his lips with yours, god you’re so sweet, and it’s the first time where it wasn’t some prelude to sex. It was just a kiss, and Satoru had never felt anything like it, the warmth spreading through his body as your soft lips work over his, in little pecks, tongue swiping on his lower lip. It’s like you’re ruining him with every sigh you make, every rock of your body.

“You’re a good kisser, Satoru Gojo.” You murmur, and he smirks.

“Of course I am, brat.” You roll your eyes, sighing, and he wishes he could say more, but you’re right, he’s scared.

So scared.

Is this just a dream? One of many?

“Good morning I guess. It’s not night huh.” You turn away, resting your head on the pillow, and his arm wraps your waist, under your breast, a hand gripping one, feeling the soft weight in his hand. You moan slightly, and he has to hold back his own, focusing on trying not to fuck you again.

Because he wants to hold you.

“You deserved cuddles tonight.” He murmurs, and feels you tremble, feels a couple hot tears fall onto his hand.

“I got them. Even better ones.” He can’t stop the stupid smile on his face, he’s so glad you can’t see it. He just clears his throat.

“Going to sleep, shut up now.” You just snuggle against him more, and Satoru Gojo finally gets something he never thought.

You in his arms.

Your round ass on his cock, your tit in his hand, but he’s more focused on your even breathing, on the rise and fall of your delicate shoulders, of how sweet your smell is. How warm you are. Fuck you kill him.

How can he hate you now?

***

Your POV

The door bangs loudly, and you wake up in Satoru’s arms with a jump, he’s wrapped his long arms and legs all around you, his head on yours, and he groans as he hears it, the beating on his door. You turn to look at him, and both of you just know, when his eyes meet yours, and when his lips part, and he sighs.

“One more kiss before the shitshow.” He murmurs, and you eagerly lean up, your heart racing, as his mouth descends, as the door is banging off its damn hinges, and you hear shouting.

“Satoru let me talk to him. He won’t be as mad.” You murmur, but he smirks, shaking his head, as you brush that white mop of hair back.

“Nah, let him be. I know whose cum is dripping out of this cunt.” He winks, and your mouth is wide open, then he’s hopping up. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming.”

You shake as you sit up then, as you realize it’s all gonna crash down, and you pad out barefooted to the living room. Suguru is there, furious and shaking, his hair drawn up in a bun but he looks exhausted. He’s got Satoru in a fierce grip by his throat, and Satoru is just grinning at him.

“What’s up best buddy?” Suguru glares at his tone.

“Why is my girlfriend’s car out front!?” He demands, through gritted teeth, and you walk up then, clearing your throat.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” He glares, letting Satoru go and striding up to you, making you shrink back a bit at his clear anger, his eyes have gone damn near black with it.

“You sure the fuck are, even if you clearly came to get revenge.” You scoff at that, shaking your head as his gaze takes you in.

“It’s not revenge. It’s fucked, I know, I shouldn’t have come here, but we are not together anymore. I ended it.”

“You can’t do that. And you know I’ll forgive this, I know I hurt you, but don’t just end it like this.” He grabs your shoulders so tight you wince. “Have your fun?”

“I had lots of fun.” He scowls, baring his teeth in irritation, and Satoru’s cackling behind him. “I’m not with you anymore. You made your choice.”

“No you ran away into Satoru’s arms just to hurt me.”

“You’re gaslighting her, Sugu, stop.” Suguru turns around, seething, you can feel how mad he is, and Satoru is just grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“This has shit to do with you. Aside from you manipulating her.”

“Me? That’s rich. You’ve been doing that just fine since you met her.” Satoru dodges a hit, as Suguru’s on him in a minute, and he laughs again. “Aww buddy, are we really gonna fight over her?”

“She’s certainly not yours.” Suguru decks him then, and you gasp in horror, as you watch his big fist connect, and Satoru’s lip is bleeding, but he’s grinning.

“I mean I came in her twice though, ya sure?”

Oh shit.

Chapter 5

ao3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148935853

[kiankiwi]

Austin with a reader who’s constantly putting herself down?. As someone who does that a lot, I need to hear comforting words from Austin

I hope this is okay. I kinda ran with it. We explore your and Austin's insecurities. I hope this whole thing makes sense! <3

Austin knew you were having one of your bad days as soon as he got home from doing press. He had walked into a silent house that's usually filled with your singing or your dance music blasting from your alexa. As he walked further into the house, searching for you, he could hear you groaning and grunting to yourself. He stood outside of your cracked bedroom door, peeking in to find you tossing what looked like every piece of clothing you owned on the floor. Not liking the image you see in the mirror in what you're currently wearing, you angrily pull it off your body, wanting to rip the fabrics to shred as you take it from your body and toss it to the floor, standing in front of the mirror, criticizing every inch of skin you see in the mirror.

"Why is he even with me, Bri?" He raises his eyebrows when he hears your best friend's voice come through the phone sitting abandoned on the bed. Apparently you had called her while trying on clothes trying to find a good going out outfit. But today you felt pretty in nothing.

"What do you mean?" Your best friend asked.

You rubbed your face, tired and exasperated at feeling this big emotion for so long. "I mean, he's been with models, Bri. He's been with a Disney star. Why is he with me? I'm just a nobody. I mean, I'm not model, I... I don't have much going for me. The best thing about me is he's my boyfriend. I'm just a stupid no one. I'm always afraid of going to red carpets with him because then what if an interviewer asks me something and I give a stupid dumb answer. I mean, I'm just me.. What if he's with me as a joke, or a bet? What if he's just with me out of pity... And all this goddamn hate I get! Don't they know whatever they come up with, I've already said to myself?" You ask as the tears finally spill over.

Austin had to put a stop to this. You're spewing absolute nonsense and he could tell you were starting to spiral into a panic.

He burst into the bedroom, startling you, quickly picking up your phone. "She'll call you back Bri. I got this." He didn't wait for your best friend to reply before ending the call and tossing your phone on your shared bed.

You continue to cry and slowly drop to the ground in Austin's arms as he shushed your cries.

"H-how much did you hear?" You ask once you've calmed down. He sighs, sad that that's how you thought of yourself. To him, he's the one who constantly wonders why you're with him. He's had a lot of girls take advantage of him because he looks like a human Ken doll so he thanked god the day he found you who cares about him for him and cares about what he thinks and care about him more than just what he looks like and what you look like standing next to him at red carpets hoping he made you pretty by comparison.

It breaks his heart that you don't think you're good enough for someone like him. He's just a guy. And he hates that because of his looks, people put him on a pedestal.

"From 'why is he even with me?'" You choke on your embarrassment crying again. "And can I set some things straight? I am not with you out of pity or some bet or as a joke. I'm with you because you are an outstanding person who cares about everyone they ever meet. When you met me, you took the time to see me. Not Austin Butler. You saw Austin.

"I wish you could see you through my eyes. Because you know what I see? Who I fell in love with?" You stay silent, prompting him to go on.

"I see a gorgeous inside and out individual who wears her heart on her sleeve and I see someone who is my absolute best friend. I don't date anyone for how they look so I don't care if you don't look like a model. You are human and you're healthy that's what matters." Austin squeezes your hip, hoping all of his words are sinking into your damn soul.

He sighs, searching for the rest of his words. "I don't know what will make you believe what I'm saying but I've gotta try my hardest to make you see yourself the way I see you." And with that he cups your face in his large hands. "You my dear are worthy of love. You are kind. You are honest. You deserve the world and I will give it to you until my last damn breath. You are beautiful. You are intelligent. You are quick-witted and hilarious and you are stronger than I could ever be, you hear me?

"And I thank my lucky stars every day I get to be with you and spend my time with you because I'm living my best life with you by my side." And at the end of this life changing (for you) speech, Austin pecks your lips. "I." Peck. "Love." Peck. "You." Peck. You smile into the kisses. "I love you too, Austin. Thank you, I really needed that." He nods. "Do you want to go on a walk with me? It'll help clear your head too." You nod and he stands, holding his hand out to you. "Let me just text Bri tell her I'm okay."

*

I really hope this was okay, anon! I really tried to put as many positive affirmations in there as possible for ya and I hope this makes you smile/makes you feel better! <3 much love

[endlesscrimson89]

FFXIV Write2023, Prompt 16: Jerk.

"Jerks," Raha hissed under his breath, tossing an offended look after the retreating back of laughing students. He refused to admit that his mismatched red-cyan eyes welled up, burning unpleasantly, as he set to gather the books, one of them made him drop, tripping him over. 

His fault for not expecting it. For letting the high stack in his hands cover his vision or for trying to get back to Baldesion Annex without getting picked on. Far too naïve, all things considered. There wasn't a day - when he left the compound - when someone wouldn't attempt to make themselves feel better or look better at his expanse. Even inside the compound, it was hit-and-miss sometimes, depending on which of the Students were present. 

All because of his stupid, mismatched eyes... And Thaliak, but he hated the unfairness of that. Hated that he was short, skinny, and an easy target to bully. That at seventeen, he was quite the youngest kit in the whole goddamn city without a guardian. Students of Baldesion didn’t really count since they barely bothered with him. 

He hated this whole fucking city, its citizens, and the fact that they rejected him for something he had no control over. He so, so badly wanted someone to come and take him from here... At this point, just about anyone would do. 

Raha sighed miserably, wiped his eyes before anyone could notice - not that any of the passersby had anything but smirks for him - and finished stacking books before heading back to the compound, this time trying to be more aware of his surroundings. 

Still, he missed the way the students who picked on him were stopped by the door of the Studium. Walking off, he didn’t see the tall, black-haired teen who grabbed the blonde who tripped him by the neck and slammed his face against the wall next to the doorframe. Neither did he see the staff of the Studium running in and separating the teenagers, soon dragging off the downright hissing, infuriated Seeker of the Sun, whose pale eyes glared daggers at the bloodied teen as his friends gathered him off the ground. 

Letting the door of the Annex slam shut behind him, Raha had no clue that by that point, two years older Senri - a new arrival in the city - gained a reputation of a violent freak by seemingly randomly attacking the other students... 

...not yet, that is.

*_*_*

With the Students penance to gossip, especially over the shared meals within the compound, he heard the rumors about him before he had to occasion to see the person who got all of them - as it seemed - quite... agitated. 

Busy with his own plate and trying to stay invisible, his ears twitched with the murmur of whispers of two older girls seated nearby, their dark-haired heads nearly pressed together as one of them giggled. 

"...I heard he's gorgeous!" The one giggling gushed, and covertly his eyes shot toward them. 

"He is... but he's freaking feral," the other replied, tossing quite a nervous look about that had him look toward his plate again and attempt to look disinterested as he picked on its content. "I've heard that barely two weeks here, he spent most of it in isolation so far. The professors at the Studium are livid! I heard they're already petitioning the Forum to remove him from the island!"

"Would that work, though?" The other whispered, clearly amused and less careful. "I mean, with Levellieur at the forefront...? I thought he was staying at their estate?"

"Seems so... but I heard that Fourchenault isn't any happier than any of them about his father's delivery," the girl on the right stated, waving her fork between them. "And he has the twins to think about, too. I hardly imagine that kid is a good influence for eleven-year-olds... no matter how intelligent everyone says Alphinaud is, right?"

"Why did his father send this... boy here, though?" The girl on the left asked, frowning. "Especially if he's dangerous?" 

"No one knows," the other shrugged somewhat helplessly. "I mean, perhaps Levellieur does, but even if... he's refusing to spill. Or so I've heard. Just the other day, the kid attacked the son of one of the other members of the Forum, but apparently, Fourchenault picked him up without a word! No explanation or excuses... not even an apology! The city's abuzz with speculation, you can imagine?" 

He could, knowing by now that the citizens lived for gossip! 

"Hm, perhaps this whole Senri would be gone before we know?" The one on the right suggested, and they switched the topic to the fashion, instantly losing his interest. 

He was mulling over it all the way until he was back in his bedroom, involuntarily intrigued by the mystery. 

It was still a week before the first time he actually encountered the object of those rumors.

*_*_*

Sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the bookshelves deep within the Noumenon, Raha leafed through the book spread in his lap when the sound of the footsteps closing in had his ears twitch before they laid flat against his head. He picked this darker part of the library for the solitude it normally offered, with anyone rarely interested in the dusty tomes about the Allagan Empire. Most of them being written in the actual Allagan, those were rarely borrowed, making this section quite a pleasant hiding spot whenever certain less than friendly Students were out on a prowl within the Annex. 

When those steps rounded the bookshelf he was resting his back against, he carefully kept his mismatched eyes on the text in front of him, hoping whomever it was would leave seeing the space occupied. 

...no such luck, however, even if the steps stopped, and in his peripheral vision, he saw a set of heavy-looking boots. For a moment, he thought that he heard this person's breath hitch, but he turned the page, pretending ignorance to the sudden, unwelcome company, in thought wishing they would leave him alone. 

Again... no luck. 

"H-Hey," That sounded hesitant, and perhaps that undertone of uncertainty in an otherwise pleasantly deep voice had him turn his head and look... and Raha froze, staring as his mouth dropped open. A matching uncertain expression on the other teen’s face took away none of its downright unreal beauty, with jet-black lashes surrounding the palest blue eyes he'd ever seen. The eyes that trailed over his face with the strangest expression - if he didn’t know better, he would be tempted to call longing - before that whole face seemed to close off, growing unreadable as the tall figure towering over him leaned one wide shoulder against the shelf, with free hand pointing toward the book in his lap. "You know Allagan?" 

Raha blinked, trying to gather his bearings as he cleared his throat, then took a deep breath and tore his eyes off the vision, forcing them back to the pages. 

"N-No," he hated the stammer in his voice or the way his tail flicked next to him with agitation. Instinctively - considering that the other teen looked fucking massive from this vintage, he curled in, trying to make himself small. Suddenly the seclusion of this dark corner seemed more oppressive than comforting, as his senses prickled with the strangest awareness of the presence of a predator. It was absurd, considering that the ink-haired boy - because he didn’t seem that much older than him, despite his size - didn’t look familiar (he would never forget that face!), but he was far too used to strangers picking on him. But also thinking of his size, if he - for whatever reason - chose to attack him, he doubted he had a chance to get away unscathed. Not to mention that, like this, he was blocking the only way out! "I l-like the silence here."

"Oh..." the tall figure shifted within his peripheral vision, and for a moment, Raha was sure that he - whomever the beautiful teen was - would take a clue and leave him alone... Nothing further from what happened, though, as before he knew what exactly happened, the male sighed, then dropped to the floor next to him, stretching his long legs in front of them. "Do you want to learn? Allagan, I mean?"

"You k-know it?" He stammered, trying not to freak out and forcing himself not to move away when the teen’s shoulder brushed his when the stranger folded his arms over his wide chest. 

"Sort of," he replied with a slight shrug that made their shoulders connect again. "I have the Echo so kind of... I know every language."

That had him gasp and, despite his nervousness, turn his head and look right into the painfully beautiful face... that looked a tad too close for comfort. The Seeker's ink-black ears twitched with amusement even while his pale eyes remained distant, expression neutral. His long tail, as dark as the longish hair surrounding his face, flicked slightly on the other side of him, involuntarily drawing Raha’s gaze to the movement. 

Even sitting, the older boy seemed massive, with obvious penance to wear black, as his pants and leather jacket suggested. The stiff material looked pulled taut over the teen’s muscular arms and wide shoulders, though open, it revealed a dark-red shirt underneath. He gave off an impression of power coiled in his form, barely restrained and waiting to snap... even when he didn't move, other than arching one of the dark eyebrows at the prolonged silence. 

Catching himself, Raha’s face blazed with a blush, realizing he was staring, when a slightly sly smirk curled the corners of the other teen’s almost too-pretty mouth. 

"Like what you see?" A strange glint sparked within the pale ice of those vertically slit eyes, and he found that despite the way his face felt on fire, he couldn’t look away - mesmerized - when his head nodded on its own. 

Moving slow, as if not to spook him, the teen unfolded his arms, then hesitated, his chest moving with a deeper breath. His eyes trailed over Raha’s face with that strangely longing look again, followed by a slightly shaky brush of gentle fingers against the edge of his jaw. He didn’t even register tilting his head into that touch, caught up in how longing seemed to turn into hunger. His hands clenched unconsciously around the edges of the open book in his lap when the tall Seeker shifted sideways, and then that hand lost its shaky uncertainty, instead curling about his cheek with a slightly rough brush of a thumb over his too-heated skin. 

So delicate and with such tantalizing affection - he was so painfully starved for - his eyes drifted shut as his heartbeat seemed to fill his ears when a scalding hot breath fanned his mouth. As shaky and uneven as his own, making him feel dizzy when the other teen’s sweet scent - so uncanny for such a masculine figure - filled his head and lungs until he could taste its apple-like tang on the back of his tongue. 

That thumb, still with its hypnotic tenderness, brushed his lower lip, making him gasp before his ears twitched with the strangled sound reminiscent of a growl - a deep and aggressive sound that should be unnerving, not make him shudder with a choked, embarrassingly submissive whimper. Then that big, hot hand curled around the back of his neck, keeping him in place when something unbearably soft, tempting, brushed the corner of his mouth. 

Unable to think or help himself, he tilted his head, following the sensation, and when another strangled sound teased his ears, making his stuttering heartbeat thump furiously as the blood in his veins turned to lava... next he knew, he was consumed, as the surprisingly soft lips pressured his open. He whimpered at the unbearable sweetness that filled his mouth with a rough push of a tongue that brushed his, seemingly inviting it to play. An invitation it was unable to resist as all of his senses grew sharper, yet narrowed down to the world of push and pull. 

His hands let go of the book that tumbled off his lap when he shifted half-consciously, his shaky fingers curling tightly in the stiff material of the leather jacket, lured by heat and helplessly attempting to tug the bigger frame closer. His face, on fire but his head blissfully empty of any sane thoughts, made it feel natural - necessary even - to purr his delight under the lips that seemed bent on devouring him alive. And when a matching but deeper sound made his whole mouth vibrate with it, he melted into mind-numbing heat. 

He couldn’t help the disappointed whine when these hungry lips pulled back, leaving him panting raggedly as his lungs burned for air. 

"I want you," whispered hoarsely against his cheek, and he swallowed thickly, licking off the lingering flavor from his swollen lips. "Since the moment I saw you... I can’t help but want you so bad it hurts..." 

"I... I..." he stammered, fighting to get his brain to cooperate. Impossible, as the Seeker wrapped both of his hands around his face, their tenderness bellying the rough press of those hungry mouth returning to swallow down his moan, feeding him more of that sweet, addictive taste. His arms on their own coiled around the other teen’s neck, and soon the embarrassing thought that he didn’t even know his name didn't matter in the face of the want with which the ink-haired male pinned him against the wall of books. 

He barely felt the way the teen shifted them before his hand curled around his thigh, on its inner side, and spread his legs roughly before moving to his knees, the male pulled him into his lap. His numbed brain didn't mind as he whimpered at the deliciously rough friction over his painfully aroused flesh, then choked on a groan when that big hand climbed up, unceremoniously curling over his groin. Squeezing it in a way that nearly had him meow, the Seeker purred over his mouth, then did it again until Raha whined softly with every clench of his hand, all his senses zeroing in on the nearly painful pressure building at the base of his spine. 

"Fuck... You're too cute," the male groaned as if in pain, then buried his face against Raha’s shoulder, his panting breaths teasing the redhead’s skin almost as much as the way he - this powerful, massive male - shook in his arms, while his arms coiled about his back almost painfully. Nearly choking on a surprised whimper at how that denied him movement, Raha fought to catch his breath as his chin dropped against the wide shoulder. His lashes parted, staring numbly at the plated floor behind the stranger's back, as his brain seemed to helplessly attempt to connect with the reality of that soothing sound of deep if shaky purrs accompanied by a tender nuzzle against his throat. "Sorry, babe... I got carried away. Don't be scared..." and perhaps only that note of a very real fear served to not make him freak out as he should, blinking rapidly as his arms involuntarily tightened about the Seeker's shoulders. Froze, pretty much, with his next words. "The day I landed here... I saw you and Azeyma... but I never imagined I could want so badly..." hoarse and yet amused, was accompanied by a gentle stroke of a big hand over his back, up and down until he couldn’t help but melt into his bigger frame with blissed-out purrs. 

He was so big and yet... so tender with him that that huge, starved part of him couldn't resist but force him to wrap around him, hiding his flaming face against the crook of his neck in embarrassment at his need. His ankles crossed behind the Seeker's back, and even as his brain insisted that he should have been appalled at himself, pull back and run... his body refused to comply, lulled into the alien sense of safety with the heat and sweetness of the soothing touch. 

He couldn’t remember anyone touching him like this - like he was precious, wanted - and when that hand over his back moved to delicately stroke his tail... He didn’t even recognize the sound it tore from his throat, yet the ink-haired male cooed something nonsensical, tightening his other arm around his back and keeping him skin-tight close to his nearly overwhelming heat. 

"I don't... don't k-know you," he finally managed through his too-tight throat, barely restraining the embarrassingly loud purrs that wanted to slip his mouth. 

"I'm Senri," the grip around him grew tighter when he flinched at the sound of the name, his eyes shooting wide open and gasp leaving his bruised lips. "And I want you to be mine, G'raha."

"How..." he trailed off, swearing in thought at the naivety of the question. Of course, his stupid eyes made him all too recognizable to anyone who spent a few minutes in the city... Then he blinked again, frowning as he gingerly pulled back, and despite his nervousness, his fiery cheeks, his gaze met the darkened pale eyes. Heated as they instantly fell to his mouth when he bit his lower lip with uncertainty. Then he repeated his words at him. "When you saw me...?" He was certain that he wouldn't be able to miss - or forget - this face if he ever saw it before. 

"A few weeks ago..." Senri murmured, his face turning reddish as pale eyes darted between his mouth and eyes and back. "But... Ah, I was too nervous to... I mean..." and he flustered, of all things, his impossibly beautiful face turning redder and redder as he looked away, dark-furred ears flat against his hair as black tail swiveled nervously against Raha’s boots. Pretty much gawking - with open mouth at this point - it was hard not to gush because he looked so painfully adorable... his heart seemed to vault, then clench when those pale blue eyes caught his stare, then darted away again. "You're so... And I... Ah..." 

"You saw me... when?" He hoped that his voice sounded neutral enough because the way he looked like this was doing weird things to his insides. 

"At the harbor..." the male groaned, then dropped his forehead against his shoulder. "You were sitting with a book under this huge statue, looking sooo cute... But then those jerks started name-calling and pointing at you and... I have an awful temper," he murmured, wincing. Raha blinked rapidly, trying to recall the last time he was at the harbor. All he could remember was looking up at the sound of commotion by the registration office, huffing with annoyance, and heading back to the Annex... "Then, every time I saw you... before I could get myself to say something, they pissed me off..." he grumbled, then sighed miserably, leaning away with an amusingly sheepish expression. That grew stormy when he pulled his hand back and brushed his fingers against his cheek with that tantalizing tenderness. "I hate that they pick on you for something like this... Your eyes are gorgeous, G'raha."

His face burned, but he couldn’t look away, caught in the snare of the strange mix of humor and distress filling the pale eyes. 

"I want to protect you so badly," Senri whispered, dragging his fingers along his jaw. "But it's a real possibility Levellieur would have my sorry hide the next time I beat up someone, so... And it's not like I could tell him why, either..." he trailed off and sighed with exaggerated resignation, holding his stare with strange determination hardening his eyes into ice as he shook his head slightly. "So, you have to be mine, G'raha."

"...I do?" He was amazed by his voice, not trembling with how his heart decided to jump in his throat. 

"Mhmm," the ink-haired male nodded seriously, then blinded him with an adorable, slightly goofy grin that lit up his whole face and made it achingly beautiful. "Then I have a good reason to beat up those losers, yeah? And I'll teach you Allagan, so... win-win, right?" 

He couldn’t help it... Raha snorted, chuckling when Senri pouted, shifting his legs under his butt to sit cross-legged before he let him drop between them. Reminded of the situation, he flushed, falling silent as he awkwardly pulled his arms back and let them drop between them, shyly lowering his gaze. 

"Hey..." Senri breathed, closing two of his fingers around his chin, and tilted his head until he had no choice but to look up into the ice-blue eyes. Heated and wanting as they trailed over his face hungrily. "...don't look like that or else... I can’t help myself..." he growled softly, and Raha flushed darker, unconsciously picking on the edges of his jacket as he bit his lower lip with uncertainty. "Azeyma, now you're asking for it," the raspy note was the only warning before those pretty mouth fell on his, claiming them into another scorching, devouring kiss that left him dizzy when Senri raised his head. "You have to know... my self-control is crap," he rumbled on the growly note that sent a nearly violent shiver down Raha’s spine. 

"...oh," he gasped, feeling the corners of his mouth curl upwards as his hands moved up and grabbed at the open edges of Senri’s jacket. "I see..." he pulled simultaneously, surging up and swallowing the other Seeker's throaty groan, shivering at how it seemed to travel down his throat and spine and made his pants feel uncomfortably tight. 

Never before was he interested in the other boys, but that way Senri growled, then wrapped his hand around his neck, attempting to eat him alive... Had him melt, whimpering as he tightened his knees around his sides, so drunk on his taste that world spinning didn’t seem weird. Still, he gasped when he felt the weight of the bigger body pinning him down to the cold floor. Maybe he would mind if Senri didn't brace over him, numbing his brain with the pleasure of how he rubbed against him, just right to tear a moan out of his mouth and swallow it down with a rumbly groan. 

"Be mine, G'raha," it sounded almost like a pained plea as he pulled back just enough to whisper it against his lips, electing another gasp out of him with a slow roll of his hips. The heat in his gaze could melt steel as Raha fought to catch his breath. His hands gave into the temptation of those silky, inky strands, holding him still as he surged up, recapturing his delicious mouth. He swallowed Senri’s whimper, his fingers clenching in the fists and thighs into a vise around him when the ink-haired Seeker pushed harder with the next roll of his body, the hard length of his cock teasing his own. 

Soon nothing mattered but how they rolled together desperately, eating up each other’s sounds. He dug one hand under Senri’s jacket, grasping at the material of his shirt as the pressure grew painful, his breaths ragged and shallow when the ink-haired male pulled back, mouthing at his throat with hoarse growls and groans. Raha barely heard it over the buzz between his ears, nor was he aware of the strained whimpers falling from his lips in a rhythm matching their bodies. His eyes closed, all his senses focused on the inevitably approaching release, he nearly hissed with outrage when Senri froze suddenly. 

Opening his mouth to protest, he found a big hand covering them with a move swift like a viper when Senri raised his head, narrowing his eyes in a warning. He didn’t understand until the sound of footsteps tore through the rush of blood and made his eyes grow enormous as his heart nearly stopped. 

Thankfully, those footsteps - behind the bookshelf he was earlier sitting against - passed then grew distant without turning into this dusty nook. However, the scare was enough to sober him up. Senri, too, seemingly as he scrambled off him, then looked sheepish and flushed as he leaned back against the shelf, looking away from him while Raha awkwardly followed, his hands shaking badly when he picked up the forgotten book off the floor. 

"...so?" He didn’t dare look at his companion, despite the note of amusement ringing in the deep, still hoarse with desire voice. 

"So?" He repeated, proud his voice didn’t shake as much as his hands when he sat next to him, his face on fire while arousal still held a tight grip over his gut. 

"So... will you be mine?" Senri drawled, and he flinched when his muscular arm snuck behind his head, curled about his shoulders, and tugged him into the other Seeker's warm side. 

"So... you can beat up other students?" He deadpanned, hesitating a shy look toward the achingly beautiful, cheery grin that lit up Senri’s face at that, making his heart lose its rhythm completely. 

"Nah, so I can hold you, babe," the ink-haired Seeker pressed a kiss against his temple. Then he chuckled, making Raha shiver with the sound. "A reason to beat up jerks is a bonus, though," he snarked... and he wasn't exactly proud about how warm and fuzzy that made him feel, keeping his gaze down as he opened the book and set it between his and Senri’s thigh. 

"...maybe," he replied, tossing him a careful look from the corner of his eye. 

"Tease," Senri chuckled again, pressed another kiss on his temple, then tightened his arm around him. "I'll wear you down, though..." he purred, and Raha shuddered, lowering his eyes as his face grew only hotter, hyper-aware of the way ink-haired Seeker slowly dragged his thumb over his bare shoulder as he used his free hand to put a finger under Raha’s chin and tilt his face toward him. The heat in his pale eyes was scalding hot even as the kiss he set on his bruised lips was a tender, delicate caress that made his heart flutter. "...you'll see, G'raha," breathed against his cheek, had him speak before he could think of it better.

"Raha?" he offered and cringed internally, blushing furiously. No one - ever - used his given name... 

"Raha," the heat in Senri’s eyes reached a wholly new level, then he brushed his thumb over his too-heated cheek. "I told you to be careful about being cute, Raha," he growled softly, then pulled that hand back with visible effort and cleared his throat, looking toward the book between them. He blinked, seemingly reading the random page the redhead opened it on... then blinked again and snorted, snickering for no reason. 

"...what?" He frowned with confusion, looking between him and the book. 

"Ah..." Senri looked at his face, then toward the page, tightening his arm around Raha’s shoulders and pulling him tight into his side. "Never mind," Raha didn't know him that well - embarrassing as it was to admit, all things considered - but that tone for anyone sounded far, far too innocent. "So, want me to translate it for you word for word?" 

"Mhmm," he couldn’t help the suspicious tone if honesty was curious about what put sparks of amusement in those pale eyes. 

...he understood about bell later, when putting the supplied translation together, he learned that he accidentally picked a very steamy retelling of Allagan royal's exploits with his male lover... Educational as it was, he couldn’t stop blushing for bells afterward!

[rcksmith]

Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

[pascalpanic]

Fooled Around and Fell in Love (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

@carstwirs: hello lovie I dunno if u still taking but could u do "can u hold my hand" & "I like the way your hands fit in mine" with javier peña please very fluffy and kissy kissy

Inspo: Fooled Around and Fell In Love by Elvin Bishop

Summary: You and Javier, unsurprisingly, are friends with benefits. Javier has a bigger heart than he lets on.

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: language, nondescript sexual content, lots of fluff and a dash of angst for flavor

A/N: hi!! This was also a combination of my song prompt for @din-damn-djarin’s celebration! I chose Fooled Around And Fell In Love as my song for it, and it fit perfectly with this request! I hope y’all like it bc soft Javi is my JAM!

Sneaking around was key with Javier Peña. The two of you were field agents during the hunt for Escobar; discretion was key in both your work and your love life.

Could you even call it a love life, you wondered? It was starting to feel more and more like love to you, but you and Javier only had each other during the off hours of work, the spare moments in the evidence room. Those were the only times that you could wrap your arms around him, that you could pull him to you by the belt and press your lips firmly to his.

Javier was strong and handsome, gorgeous brown eyes and thick biceps and tight shirts. You’d started fooling around with him late one night at the office, when the two of you were the last ones working. Steve was long gone, you were both frustrated with the paperwork, and Javier looked so goddamn good that you walked closer and stared into his eyes. He looked up at you and put out his cigarette, asked what you were looking at.

You knew his reputation. You knew what he did with women, and you wanted it for yourself. You responded that you were looking at that godawful mustache, I wonder how any girl lets you go down on her with that thing, and he pulled you down to him by the shirt and asked you if you wanted a trial. And you kissed him hard, with tongue and teeth and it led to you riding Javier right there in his office chair. It was so good that you kept going, sneaking around the office and his apartment and yours and anywhere you could get him.

The sex was fantastic, even better with the idea that it was forbidden and discreet and could never see the light of day. The nights you’d spend in Javier’s bed, on his couch, in his shower. Wherever he could get you, he’d take you, and you were more than willing to oblige.

After you ravaged each other, after you’d thoroughly marked the easier-covered patches of skin on each other’s bodies, after your lips were reddened and swollen and bruised, that was when the moments of truth came. Your head would rest on Javier’s chest while he’d stroke your hair, murmur sweet nothings to you. And they were truly that: nothings. Words that didn’t mean or promise shit when these excursions had to be confined to closed bedrooms and locked supply closets in the embassy.

No matter how secretive Javier could keep himself, Steve could always read through his screen. He knew the man like he knew his wife, maybe even better since he was a man like him. He could see each little cog turn and tick inside of his brain. He could notice the way his fingers would tap against his desk in a different rhythm when he was craving a cigarette from when he had to go piss from when he was anxious.

So even though you two had smirks on your faces as you went your separate ways, Javier sneaking from the evidence room three minutes before you would, Steve had always known. He’d noticed the way your legs were a little more wobbly than they were before in your heels, the way Javier was in a better mood for the rest of the day.

Steve had also noticed the moment where Javier had fallen in love. He’d returned to his desk with a smudge of your signature lipstick under his jaw that he’d missed. Steve didn’t comment. Javier’s smile looked smitten, not smug. His pen tapped a different rhythm against his desk. It was a new one, one Steve had yet to learn and file away. He learned it as the rhythm he’d tap out when he was in love.

You’d entered this situation with Javier with an understanding that this would be like anything else he’s ever done, that he’d continue this as a casual dalliance and that he’d move on soon. You were friends at work, and that came first and foremost. The sex would end eventually, and you’d both have to move on. Neither of you expected to fall for the other.

-

Javier is a creature of habit, despite the fact that he likes to think he’s unpredictable. He comes home from work at some godforsaken hour late at night, he drinks a glass of whiskey. If he has any energy, he calls up his latest plaything. If he doesn’t, he downs a second glass and passes out in his bed.

Tonight, Javier is in a melancholy mood. His glass of whiskey sinks him lower into this dark hole, and when you answer your ringing phone, he is not flirty or sexy or suggestive. “Hey, dulzura. Wanna come over?” He asks, his voice exhausted.

You frown a little. “What’s wrong?” You ask through the phone, wedging the receiver between your ear and your shoulder.

Javier sighs. “Nothing. Just… could use a little something to make it feel better. Or someone.”

A small smile forms on your face from his weak effort to be flirtatious. “I’ll come right over, Javi,” you inform him, and he has an equally small smile on his face.

A few minutes later, you knock on his door. Two stoic faces turn to smiles as you see each other. It isn’t typical of your relationship to be affectionate. You’re either fucking or you’re professionals at work. But Javier needs it, you rationalize, as you throw your arms around and hug him tight. Little does he know that it’s equally as much for you as it is for him. It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms around you too and pulls you to his chest. “Bad day?” You murmur and nuzzle your nose into his neck.

Javier sighs. “Yeah.”

You press a soft kiss to his skin and look up at him with a smile. You brush his dark hair back from his forehead as you look into his eyes. “What do you need, hm?” You ask in a quiet voice, tilting your head as you look at him.

He can’t say what he really wants, what he needs. He needs you to hold him for the rest of the night, to talk to him softly in your beautiful voice that soothes all of his nerves, to kiss his skin just like you did earlier but do it over and over, all over his body, not even in a sexual way. “You,” he mumbles just as quietly.

You chuckle a little. “I don’t think we should fuck tonight, Javi,” you admit, a hand on his chest.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says and shakes his head. You’re confused, and your brow furrows lightly in confusion in a way that looks so goddamn adorable that Javier wants to scream and shout. “Just… stay here with me?”

You nod, your eyes still confused but your heart softening. This is going to spell trouble, especially with your recent realization of how painfully in love with him you are. “Of course, Javi. Can… how about I make us dinner?” You offer.

He shakes his head. “We can make it together,” he says, leading you to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, which is embarrassingly bare. You go to a cupboard and pull out a box of pasta and a can of sauce. He sees it and smiles. “That’s perfect,” he nods, filling a pot with water and putting it on the stove.

All of your words are somewhat hushed and quiet, as if either of you is afraid to break the calm of the moment. The domesticity of it all. Javier turns on the burner on the stove and you find his cassette player, popping in the first tape you find. The smooth music starts playing and you dance around his kitchen, scooting up behind him and wrapping your arms around him. “Come dance with me,” you murmur and press a kiss into his shoulder blade.

“What has gotten into you?” He asks you teasingly but turns in your arms, wrapping an arm around you. He takes one of your hands in his, holding it out to the side and starting to dance with you.

You hum along to the song and shrug. “You need some love,” you tell him with a soft smile, and it cracks his hardened expression.

You rest your head on his chest and he relaxes, swaying you along. You’re both quiet for a moment. You wonder if you overstepped it with the word love, but he seems to enjoy it. “I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he murmurs to you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

The utter tenderness of the moment is unlike anything you and Javier have ever shared before. Things between you have always been rough and fast, about pleasure and not feelings. This is uncharted territory. You’re holding each other, slow dancing in his kitchen. His arms are warm and strong around you. “I like it too,” you tell him genuinely in a soft voice. The lyrics of the song ring out through the kitchen, and you can’t help but feel your throat go dry at the words.

I must have been through about a million girls

I'd love 'em then I'd leave 'em alone

I didn't care how much they cried, no sir

Their tears left me cold as a stone

But then I fooled around and fell in love

I fooled around and fell in love, yes I did

I fooled around and fell in love

Javier’s breath hitches. You can feel it, his chest fluttering beneath your head. His face is still pressed into your hair. “Can I admit something to you, dulzura?” He mumbles.

Your eyes are watering, and you bury your face in his neck. You pray that it’s the words you want to hear. You squeak out an ‘mhm’ into his skin.

“I think this song was meant for us. Because we’ve been fooling around… but I think I fell in love with you,” he chokes out nervously, stopping his feet and planting the two of you in the middle of the kitchen.

You lift your head and look at him, the tears beginning to fall from your eyes. “Javi,” you coo, your lower lip quivering.

His eyes go wide in fear. This is why he doesn’t show emotions, he tells himself, because it never fucking works, it always ends wrong. He gets his desperate heart broken and that’s why he hides it, locks it and swallows the key. “But if you don’t feel the same, I understand,” he says quietly. His lower lip sticks out slightly.

You laugh through the tears, looking at him with wet eyes. “Javi. I have thought the same about you for so long. I am so in love with you, and I was so worried you wouldn’t feel the same. I can’t believe, I just-“

He cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and pressing your lips to his, sighing at the feeling. It’s everything you’ve wanted, warm and slow and everything about it is a release of tension. You’ve kissed him before, sure, but it’s been hot and sloppy and hurried, for the sole point of removing each other’s pants. This is because he wants to, because he wants you for you and not the warmth between your legs.

You break away, and Javier looks down at you. “Why are you crying?” He asks with a soft smile.

Looking up at him, there are tears on your face but not an ounce of sadness. “Because I love you so much. And I thought eventually you’d get tired of me and move on to another woman and I’d still have to be friends with you even though I’m so in love with you.”

Javier frowns softly. “Do you really think I would?”

You shrug. “I mean… it’s kind of your track record, Javi,” you say, and he nods.

“I suppose that’s somewhat true,” he admits. “But it’s you. How could I ever change my mind about someone like you?” He asks, and you answer his question by kissing him again, deeply.

It’s pure bliss, his warm hand on your face, the other around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. You break away and your eyes hold a question. “What now?” He asks sarcastically.

You giggle. “The water is boiling,” you tell him and nod your head toward the stove.

“Oh, shit,” he nods and breaks away from you, pouring the pasta in.

You sneak up behind him again and wrap your arms around him, kissing his neck. “Javi?”

“Is this a game show? Am I being interrogated?” He chuckles lovingly.

“Jesus, you just admitted you love me and now you’re being so mean to me,” you tease. “No. Does this mean… are we a thing? Can we be in public now?”

He thinks about it for a second and nods, stirring the water. “I think we should. And I think you should stay the night, so I can finally tell you how much I love you in bed.”

You giggle softly. “I’d like that.”

-

In the morning, you ride to work with Javier. You straighten your blazer as you get out of the car, smiling at him and pulling your purse over your shoulder.

He looks back at you and he can’t help but smile. “Dulzura?”

“Yes, Javi?”

He walks alongside you as you head into the building. “Can you hold my hand?” He asks, grinning ear to ear.

You beam and nod, taking his hand. He opens the door and the two of you walk in together, for the first time, holding hands. You draw stares as you walk to his desk, but you don’t care. Neither does he. Both of you walk with your head held high.

Finally you see Steve and he slowly claps as the two of you approach. “Ah, I see we’re finally public,” he nods and gestures to your hands with a cigarette between two fingers.

You look at Javier in confusion, and he looks back at you with the same eyes. “I’ve known about you two this whole time,” the blonde man laughs, kicking his legs up on the desk. “How does that song go? Fooled around and fell in love,” he sings, and you laugh as you look up at Javi.

“I guess that’s our song now,” he shrugs and looks down at you.

“I guess it is,” you nod, and Javier kisses you softly.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy

[darthwheezely]

grande - g.w.

Summary: George meets a mighty adorable barista in the new cafe on Diagon Alley and the man just can’t help himself... based off the song Coffee Girl by Johnny Socko! Sorry this took me absolute ages (9 days oops) to get out, guys :/

Warnings: DIABETIC FLUFF STUPID AMOUNTS OF CARDIAC ARREST INDUCING FLUFF UWU,mentions of sexism, Fred being Fred, cussing probably, alludes to sex, PG/PG-13

taglist or people that might like this but idk: @theweasleyslut @kitwalker02 @loony-loopy-lupinn @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thehufflepuffwife @monoscandal @lupinsclassroom @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys @band--psycho @lumosandnoxwriting @oh-for-merlins-sake @amxrtentias @virgohufflepuff @vivianweasley

George Weasley didn’t sleep. This had long been the habit of his ever since he and his parents had discovered that his elder twin Fred had been an avid sleepwalker by age 4, then became a (minor) party animal in his Hogwarts days, and finally when he became the co-owner of one of the Wizard World’s most successful entrepreneurs and business owners.

The man hadn’t slept in about 18 years give or take. And days like this reminded him of it constantly.

It was a Saturday, the first of the month, and to boot, it was about to be Christmas in a little over a week. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was packed with everyone from couples window shopping, children in desperate need of fun now that school was out, parents trying to keep them in line, and even some old lady named Ethel (who swore she was part Veela, and therefore Fred couldn’t “escape her girlish charm.”)

“Ethel, you have an absolutely ravishing day, and don’t even worry about that moisturizer it’d be a waste of product on a natural beauty like you” Fred winked and kissed the old lady’s hand, George watching from the top of the steps rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie, you know how to keep a lady young, don’t you? Oh - goodbye, Georgie! Have a good rest of your day boys!” She waved majestically to the younger twin on the stairs and he bowed royally in response.

“Bye, Ethel!” They both called as she exited the building, the bells flurrying in her wake.

“Georgie, mate, hate to say it but you are being uncharacteristically quiet and it’s making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable.” Fred said bounding up the stairs to meet him, chuckling briefly.

“Freddie, mate, hate to say it but I’ve had absolutely no sleep as of late and it’s getting to me. But I’ll be back up to my usual antics in no time.” He padded down the stairs, winking at a couple young ladies ogling him, sending them into a fit of giggles. Fred sat down on the middle step eyeing his brother carefully. It didn’t take a genius to see George wasn’t holding on much longer, the dark circles littering his eyes and the way he mussed up his already purposely messy hair just...didn’t comfort his older twin at all.

“George.” Fred sighed, George looking back at him, confused. He took his hands away from the merchandise Wonder Witch he’d been rearranging and gave him full attention.

“Take your lunch break early. And longer if possible.”

“Pffft, why would I do that when I have women to woo and boxes to juggle?”

“George.”

“Fred.”

“Stop, I mean it. You look half dead as it is, just go take a nap or get an espresso from the cafe down the aisle or something that reinforces the idea that yes, you are a human being and no, not a zombie.” Fred crossed his arms feeling suddenly a lot like Molly and dropped the cross. George pretended to ponder this tapping his chin, rather finding the mature brother role reversal funny as hell.

“Oh, alright, but can I still be a zombie when I get back?”

Fred hit him with a folder and sent him on his way.

-•-•-

You had just finished the lunch rush, finally being able to calm down and not have to worry about making one more goddamn Butterbeer Latte for at least another 20 or so minutes...until there’d be another rush. You grabbed a lemon scone, took off your apron and sat against the back counter. You inhaled the citrus scent, it was always something that you loved to savor, and took a bite.

The holidays for the Merlin’s Mochas, the cafe, had been absolutely atrocious so far. All you had for customers were angry businessmen, bratty kids and their upper class parents who let them run around the already small place being rude to everyone, your boss Lionel who had an affinity for calling every woman who worked there a “bitch” (...ok lionel) and to top it all off: you’d been pulling 9 hour days every day except sundays. Needless to say: you kind of super hated your job.

You had just finished your scone when you heard the door chime signal a customer, immediately wiping your hands on your jeans and restrapping your apron.

“Hi how can I-“ oh Jesus this is the hottest man I have ever seen. He was easily no older than 23, fiery red hair, a perfectly tailored striped terracotta suit, green tie, and the most gorgeous doe brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“How can you...?”

“Help you, ohmygod, I am so sorry I’m super-“

“Tired? Yeah me too...interesting how similar we are this early in the game hmm?” He winked at you and your knees felt too weak. No he was just a stupid hot customer that also was really hot and also? Was super hot. No worries, Y/N, just don’t die by 22 okay thanks.

“Very funny...wait are you-“ your finger led from him to the statue outside Wizard Wheezes, realizing a simple oh shit

“Yeah, that would be me. Or my twin Fred but we never really decided, that’s why he kind of looks like both of us mixed. Although we’re twins so we basically look the same anyway. I mean because were identical. Twins, yeah.” George, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you sweating? She’s just a simply beautiful girl in a simply maddeningly purple coffee shop can you please breathe and not make yourself look stupid-

“Oh, wow! I’ve never met a twin before - not like twins are anomalies or anything it’s just so crazy. Science. Science is crazy” You closed your eyes and took a breath

“We should probably start over shouldn’t we?” You wrinkled your nose.

“That sounds much more redeeming than anything we both were about to say” George breathed out laughing softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I’m George. Weasley. Like I said, I work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the shop over there, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before...or you for that matter, I never forget a beautiful young woman.” He said smoothly, his heart steadily subsiding - something about you had the power to not only make him scared out of his mind, but also totally at ease.

You returned the smile, warmly, the blood rushing to your cheeks at his compliment and sticking your tongue to your teeth. “Well, George Weasley, of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And yeah, we’re new around here,” you leaned further onto the counter, realizing, albeit a moment too late that your eye level was directly with his abs now, and although he was wearing a suit...you could definitely tell they were there.

“We erm, just opened three months ago. It’s honestly a bit of a time to work here.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Well, nothing like a blatant sexist to run an entirely female employed establishment and weird stuffy rich people.” Your eyes widened suddenly, and you felt like you had said far too much far too soon. But he gasp-laughed - laugh that ended as soon as it began and burst into a smile...like you had shared a secret with him.

“What the hell is he doing here then? Got a boy’s club to run in a purple coffee shop?”

“I mean you never really know these days, George, imposters are among us at every moment” you purred and pushed off the counter, meaning it as a joke but George’s heart screamed when he heard your name. As you moved to the other edge of the counter, he followed you.

“What a resourceful and cruel young woman, I am starting to like you, Miss Y/L/N.” He clucked. “And do you think of me like you think of Mr. I-Hate-Women-That’s-Why-I-Hire-Them?” He got inches from your face, smelling the coffee beans and vanilla extract that riddled your skin.

“Hmm...Mr. Weasley, I’m not so sure.” You coyly stepped away from him and took long strides to the far end of the coffee bar by the wall. George immediately felt a pit of flirtatious butterflies and (arousal?) something more in his stomach, jaw dropped, he followed you again. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of you.

“Well, how can I convince you?” He asked rather quickly.

“Hmm...” you leaned forward like he did before and his breath hitched in his throat “...let’s get you a cuppa first.”

-•-

“Wait, okay let me get this straight-“

“Yes?”

“You have 6 other siblings.”

“Yes.”

“...because your mom wanted a girl?”

“That-that would in fact be true, yes.”

You thought for a moment.

“So you’re telling me after she made it through you two-“

“-she still wanted to have more of us, believe me, it races through my mind daily.” He nodded vehemently laughing with you. You two had taken to the empty cafe at a table nestled in the corner, him sitting in a chair across from you on a bench. You had both been cracking each other up with stories from your childhoods, like how you both had managed to never know of the other’s existence until now.

He’d discovered that you had transferred from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons early on in your fourth year. You, a Hufflepuff, loved the quiet and soft landscape of the French school. You both had absolutely no idea the other existed. How? The world may never know.

He was brash. You were careful.

He was already flying when you were just feeling comfortable learning how to walk.

But you sat there with him for the better amount of an hour and a half, laughing and interrupting each other with memories of the school years you had, some weird and strange, and especially during fourth year, hard for George to talk about.

Ginny, his baby sister, had almost died. And as he said to you in a candid and highly vulnerable state: he blamed himself for almost letting her go to this day.

“I...I really do believe it was my fault.”

“George, it couldn’t have been your fault. Hogwarts is a big freaking death trap - you and I both know that,” you had said with an exasperated laugh, eager to make him feel better in any facet.

“Yeah, but...I’m her big brother. Yes, she has five other older brothers but...we were supposed to protect her.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “It was her first year, for Christ’s sake, and I paid about as much attention to her as a doorknob would.” He had rolled his jaw and taken a gulp of his gingerbread latte (you had said it was your favorite, and he was loathe to try anything else) and you had softly draped your hand on top of his.

“If she’s as kind and loving and funny as you, I’d love to meet her.” You quipped, a small smile growing on your face in effort to soothe. He had smiled back at you, turning your hand over in his and drawing his digits lazily over your palm.

“Funny, because I was thinking the same thing.”

-•-

He had told you to close your eyes, that much had been true.

See, his coffee had started to get cold. So, like if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll have to have some milk-

If you give a George a latte he will have to not only have another one, but also feel the strenuous need to show off for you and take you to his place of work. Naturally. And it was so lucky that by the time he’d proposed you leave, he even helped you clean and lock up afterwards.

Truthfully, it almost scared you how much he had seemed to care.

“Alright, Y/N, darling, I’m going to release my hands on the count of three, yeah?”

“Perfect, Georgie” you giggled. You’d legitimately only knew him for so long, but you just...you trusted him. He grinned widely, his strong hands only applying a slight amount of pressure as not to hurt you.

“Alright, then. 1. 2-“ he took his hands off your eyes and watched you adjust not only to light, but to your surroundings as well.

“3.” He breathed out taking in the way you smiled like a teenager, face alight with pure inundating wonder. You squealed and started to run around the store.

“Look at these! Pygmy Puffs - ugh they’re so adorable look at this one! Oh, oh - ‘Fizzing Whizbees’ - these look absolutely wicked! And Per- ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’?” You picked up the glittery stone in your hand, and heard a smooth voice perk up behind you.

“A real money spinner, that one.” You turned around and there was a man that looked absolutely identical to George, although entirely different in the same way.

“Handy if you need to make a quick getaway,” you heard George on the other side of you. He smiled warmly down at you, nodding his head up to look at the twin across from him.

“Y/N, this is my-“

“-older, much more attractive and fiscally responsible brother.” He winked and you blushed almost immediately. “Fred. Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Georgie has told me a lot about you and the shop - absolutely marvelous this place is, I cant believe you two created so much in such a short span of time. Brilliant it all is, really!” George had started to flush, rubbing his jaw to seemingly take the red away from his striking face. Fred, upon hearing the genuine warmth from your voice and the unmistakable use of “Georgie” had a small, but highly distinct aha moment:

“Well, we couldn’t have done it all on our own, one of our best friends helped us out a good lot. But thank you, really...it means so much when other people see how much we do and-” he looked directly at George.

“-acknowledge the things we love, right George?”

“Absolutely, Frederick.” Fred had given him the look that seemed to imply: “please, God, make a damn move.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to be off and woo some ladies, have a biscuit and do some paperwork” he smiled wide when you giggled, already enjoying your company.

“But I hope to see you again, very soon, yeah? Please stop by whenever you can, we’re alwYs just down the street.”

“Freddie, for your company, I’m not so sure, I’m still deciding.” You quipped. Fred laughed heartily at that and looked at George.

“Georgie, I like this one.” George looked at you and winked.

“Me, too Freddie, me too.” You leaned back on your heels as Fred padded back up the stairs to the flat, now completely alone with George. You threw your arms behind you back and forth and took a long stride to George.

“So...what are you those?” You nodded up to the array of pink bubbles in a clam shape in the corner. He hummed and reached to grab your hand.

“Love potions - c-can I show you?” He raised an eyebrow slightly, but he felt his whole body turn to mush when you accepted his hand and nodded slowly. As he walked with you, you memorized the feeling of his callouses and veins, the way your hand curled deliberately in his.

You wanted to make sure if it was the last time you felt something like that, you had that memory with you for a while.

“Essentially, if you give these to a person they will temporarily have feelings of love and attraction for you. Depending of course on the dosage you use and the weight of the person in question.” He explained. You watched the way his suit jacket pulled taut against his back muscles and instinctively wanted to honestly just take the whole thing off-

“Hmm...I don’t know about these, Georgie.” You hummed mischievously. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

He scoffed placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Am i being questioned in my own establishment, Miss Y/L/N?”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, bowing slightly at him. “Well, do forgive my feminine insolence, Mr. Weasley, it’s not often I meet such bewitching mad scientists like you.” You watched his face grow blank for a moment at your compliment and immediately wanted to throw up.

“George, I’m really sorry, I know we just became friends-“

“Do you mean it?” He took a step towards you. You swallowed finding again his perfect milk chocolate eyes. You nodded.

“Hell yeah I did, you’re smart...and wicked hot” you both laughed at that. He took another step, the distance being unbearably harder to live in as his digits found a piece of hair and wound it behind your ear.

“Well, darling, the feeling is quite mutual.” He said quietly, taking in the whole of your face. He wanted to crash his lips onto every possible nook and crevice of your face, collide with you entirely.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, then, aren’t we?” You gently nudged his nose with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong and powerful arms pulling you to him gently. He wanted you to feel him not to break under his embrace. He leaned down and brushed his lips up to yours, feeling you whine and let out a minuscule sound.

“Got you making noises for me already and haven’t even kissed you yet, hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered close and one of your legs made it’s way in between his, snapping any chance at loose air between you two out of the way.

“Please, Weasley, pants a bit small for you?”

“Keep talking like that and they might, yeah.” You two laughed softly and with a final look to your lips he closed the last gap.

His mouth was perfect. His lips ghosted over yours one last time before wrapping every part of himself onto your frame, your lips entangled in each other like you’d never be able to taste him again.

But it was loving and slow and sweet. He tasted like gingerbread lattes and pastries and cinnamon and licking into his mouth you could feel the spice. He moaned lightly into your mouth, sending your knees buckling. He dipped you slightly, a hand traveling to your lower back to keep you steady, and his other hand coming up to nestle under the nape of your hair. Your hands caressed his face, his chest, needless to say? You wanted them everywhere. You wanted him everywhere.

The kiss broke and you and George were left breathless in each other’s hold, your foreheads pressed together as he kept you slightly dipped.

“Y/N, I’m feeling a bit tired” he quipped hoarsely, pressing a brief kiss to your lips and onto your neck. You hummed satisfactorily.

“Georgie, you’re gonna need another latte aren’t you?” You set multiple chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, feeling him rumble with a small giggle. He caught your mouth with his and you moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna need a whole pot, to drink you in, love.”

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters 

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one! 

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub 

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too. 

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

[y0itsbri]

brainiac maniac

a mickey x lip highschool math rivals to lovers au for @grumpymickmilk

bonus! mickey x karen friendship <33

words: 1.8k

on ao3 here!

mickey sank lower into his seat as his teacher was passing back their most recent tests. he sniffed his nose and shrugged.

98%

lip would have his ass. that asshole never shuts the fuck up.

"hey mick, didn't study hard enough this time?" "kiss ass." "well, actually..."

actually, lip could take his T-84 whatever-the-fuck calculator and shove it up his --

"mikhailo," his teacher's voice startled him from his daze. "why don't you share what you got for number three?"

fuck, he hadn't even looked at the new worksheet yet.

mickey glared a few desks over at the menace that was lip gallagher, silently cursing him because somehow this had to be his fault.

mickey eyed the problem, cleared his throat, and rattled off an answer from the top of his head. his teacher looked unimpressed, but what else was new?

as expected, lip scoffed from across the room. mickey loathed the way that he rolled his eyes. cocky fucker.

"got something to say, philip?" mickey hissed, quiet enough that their teacher didn't hear, but he attracted the attention of a few students.

"nothing at all." he twiddled his pencil in his fingers.

"right. as if you could keep your trap shut for more than a minute anyways."

"thought that's why you like me, mick." lip honest to god winked.

asshole.

"you can fuck right off with--"

"lip, could you answer number five for us?"

"anything for you ms. b."

mickey rolled his eyes. suck up.

his heart was thrumming. in anger? probably. whatever. fuck that scrawny math nerd.

-

the following week, the teacher announced that people would have to partner up for the next assignment. mickey heard the faint cheer of his classmates, but he just rolled his eyes. he knew that they would all scramble to be all buddy-buddy with him as if they hadn't been actively avoiding him all year and he would just be stuck doing all the work.

sure enough, karen turned around in her seat, smacking her bubblegum loudly and twirling her hair like she was a goddamn cartoon character.

she was gorgeous, he'd give her that, but her charms were lost on him. and to make matters worse, she fucking knew it.

"so, mickey, partners?"

"yeah, right, so you can just sit there and paint your nails looking pretty while i end up doin' fuckin' everything."

karen gripped his arm with her too-soft hands, "it's like you can read my mind!"

"fuck off, little bo peep." he smirked as she stayed put.

lip loathed mickey and karen’s friendship and it was equally amusing to them both. sure enough, lip stormed over to them with murder in his eyes. dramatic bitch.

"fucking really karen?!"

"what?" she batted her eyes innocently and mickey coughed to suppress his laughter. he wasn't successful.

lip just glared at him before sitting his ass on top of mickey's desk, his foot balancing on the railing next to mickey.

pretentious asshole.

mickey fought the urge to untie his shoelaces, or better yet, push him off the side. instead, he just stared straight ahead at karen like lip wasn't even there.

"so, number 1, kare-bear?"

"i can't fucking believe you too." lip slid off the desk and kicked mickey's backpack on his way down.

"ayo karen, i think your boyfriend's on his period or something."

"he's not my boyfriend."

mickey's eyebrows flew up his forehead, "yeah, does asshole know that?"

she shrugged and pulled out two nail polishes from her bag.

"pink or blue?"

mickey eyed the two carefully.

"come on, mickey. it's not rocket science."

"yeah, rocket science would be a lot easier."

she glared and it was honestly pretty funny.

"blue."

she chose pink. first painting her own nails while mickey worked through their assignment. then she grabbed mickey's left hand. he knew what was coming. he has been here before.

she painted his middle finger with two coats and blew on it before he could smudge it.

mickey scrunched up his nose. "you breath smells like doritos, bitch."

"yeah, you want some?" she made kissy noises towards him and he swatted her away with his non-painted hand.

"gross. girl cooties."

-

lip showed up late to class, begrudgingly taking the only open seat next to mickey.

"hey, milkovich, you goin' full woman now?" he nodded towards mickey's hand which was scratching something profane into the desk.

mickey flipped him off with his pink-painted fingernail. "it's one finger, philip. if that's all it takes to become a woman, you've got some fuckin' low standards."

"mmm, you know i don't discriminate."

"probably lucky to get whoever will kiss your frog face. probably disappointed when you don't turn into prince charming or some shit."

"mickey milkovich, king of pink nails and princesses. i'm totally holding this against you."

"like hell you are." he took a sip from his energy drink knowing damn well lip wasn't going to do shit. he was all talk no action. maybe he needed to get some action.

he turned his attention back to whatever the fuck ms. b was writing on the board. something something partner take-home exam. he scanned the class to already find everyone partnered up. he must've missed that shit while he was teasing lip. which leaves...

lip gave him a smug wave, clearly coming to the conclusion much quicker than mickey.

great. mickey was the one stuck with the frog faced motherfucker.

ms. b handed our their exams, stopping to eye mickey and lip, sitting in irritable silence. she laughed, "damn, never thought i'd see the day."

mickey pouted at his sour luck.

-

lip had agreed to meet mickey in the milkovich basement later that night to work on their exam. at first, lip was a bit hesitant, which like -- fair -- because the milkoviches were known for their not-so-subtle criminal activities, torture techniques included. but mickey had cleared out most of that shit when terry kicked the bucket anyways.

mickey was pacing the kitchen when he heard a heavy knock on the door. feds. no, just philip.

sure enough, he opened the door to find lip hunched off and blowing some heat onto his fingertips, his fingerless gloves serving little to no purpose.

"goddamn, philip. you knock like the pigs."

"strong hands."

"weirdo." he stepped back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to grab something to drink, "wanna bang?"

lip nearly choked. "what kinda lady do you take me for? at least buy me dinner first."

fuck.

"i meant the fuckin' energy drink and you know it, asshole."

lip laughed as a blush washed over mickey's face. this was the worst scenario he could imagine. literal nightmare fuel. and yet he was standing its reality.

after what felt like an eternity, lip broke the silence, taking fucking pity on him.

"yeah, mick, i want a bang."

"cotton candy cool?"

"uh, yeah."

he didn't have a choice anyways. that's all he had.

they made their way down the creaky stairs into the darkness. and yeah, at first glance, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. but after mickey shimmied the plug into the outlet, the room came to life.

he had a big beige couch in the corner, a makeshift coffee table made out of a crate, a big ass terrarium on the floor, and unique lamp fixtures scattered around the room. the walls were covered floor to ceiling with various posters and drawings.

mickey blushed, a bit embarrassed. as he watched lip take it all in for the first time, he forgot that this was him. and it would lowkey hurt it lip made fun of his space.

"cool shit." lip shrugged his backpack off. "kinda reminds me of my room."

and that was the last thing mickey expected to hear.

a bit frozen still, mickey watched as lip crouched down by the terrarium.

"what's in here?"

"speedy."

"speedy?"

"turtle."

lip tapped the glass.

"he don't like that."

"hmm? he doesn't? did he tell you personally?"

"asshole. and what if he did?"

lip raised his hands in surrender.

"mikhailo milkovich, protector of turtles. got it."

mickey smirked. "you just gonna stand here like an oaf all day or are ya gonna help me with this exam?"

"so you need help?" lip quipped.

"i don't, but it would go a lot smoother if you did, smart guy."

"and what if i didn't?"

mickey leaned in real close and whispered in his ear. "this basement is soundproof."

lip eyed the corners of the room and shook his head in disbelief.

"big talk for a little man. ya know, mick, lying isn't a good look on you."

he looked weak as hell in the dim lights of the basement. mickey tested his limits. he gently shoved lip's shoulders down so he fell to his knees in front of him, a devilish smirk on his face taunting mickey all-the-while.

"i ain't lying."

mickey turned away from a breathless lip and plopped himself cross-legged on the couch. he clicked around on his phone for a moment connecting his spotify to the basement speakers.

"you gonna sit there all day looking pretty or ya wanna make yourself useful?"

lip picked himself up off the floor with the grace of a better man than mickey was. he sat a little too close and took a sip from mickey's bang.

"make yourself at home." mickey murmured sarcastically, but lip didn’t get the whole sarcasm memo.

lip lit up his cigarette and raised his eyebrow in a gesture of 'what are you gonna do about it?'

mickey let him have it for a moment before plucking it straight from his lips.

"thanks, man."

"fucker."

"you know it."

mickey and lip had a good system working out for them surprisingly. one person took their turn with the cig or fucking around on their phone while the other worked on a math problem.

eventually, lip stilled. he was stuck.

"got a problem?" mickey raised an eyebrow and blew a lungful of smoke up in the air.

"this one is ridiculously hard. i swear this wasn't in the fuckin' textbook." lip's hair was mussed from where he was anxiously messing with it and his face was red with frustration. mickey hated to admit that that was really doing it for him.

fuck it.

"that ain't the only thing getting hard," his tongue swiped the corner of his mouth.

lip looked over to him in confusion before looking at his lap. mickey widened his stance on the couch, giving lip a better angle.

mickey tilted his head in a show of 'what're you gonna do about it?'

lip had apparently had enough math for the day because he knocked the whole fucking crate over as he made his way to knees for the second time that night.

mickey picked at his golden curls and frowned. "gross."

"one of these days i'm gonna shut you the hell up, milkovich."

"better get to work, then, einstein." mickey lifted his hips while lip tugged down his jeans.

turned out that mickey’s boner for math was a boner for something — someone — else.

[choco-mark]

One Day Closer (1)

pairings: soulmate!jaemin x soulmate!oc

genre: fluff | smut | a little angst if you squint

warnings: language, masturbation (fem. + m.), mentions of sex, mentions of underage drinking

summary: in a world where soulmates can hear each other’s thoughts, you slowly fall in love with your soulmate, though it takes you an eternity to realize who it really is.

words: 6.6k

parts: one | two

note: y/n and jaemin’s thoughts are written in italics

a part of the You Are Me series!!

7 April

Jaemin loved spring, he loved seeing the bare trees grow their leaves back and the fallen flowers rise up once more to resume their erect state. He loved the smell of the air, if it even had a smell, the way it was sweet and comforting to anyone passing through it. The sky was wide as always; it seemed clearer than any other season of the year, a crashing blue color that stained the world perfectly.

Y/N, however, loved winter. Jaemin knew it, he knew it from the way you praised the cold when soft snow fell outside of your window in the morning and the way your thoughts would giggle when you saw the puffs of white air coming from your mouth as you spoke. You loved everything about the freezing weather, and you were almost upset to see it gone as spring finally approached.

You were in school right now, staring at your teacher who was supposedly teaching chemistry, but your mind was hazy and filled with the thoughts of your soulmate. It was normal to hear your soulmate’s thoughts, just as everyone else in the world did, but he was always thinking. Constantly, even about the most irrelevant things.

Okay, but if I add x to this side, it just fucks up the whole equation. Wait, I’m supposed to add x over here too, right? That’s what she just said, dumbass, obviously.

You giggled to yourself out loud. I see you’re having pretty important thoughts right now, aren’t you? You do realize we share the same mind, right? I’m trying to learn some chemistry here.

Oh, that’s really funny, baby. His chuckle vibrated throughout your head as you sighed. You’ve been thinking about what you’re gonna have for lunch the entire time, which is far from anything chem related.

Hey, food is important! And I’m really hungry. I didn’t even eat breakfast before I got here. You pouted a little as you tried to stop your growling stomach from interrupting the class. Kinda regretting it now.

What did I say about skipping meals? His voice sounded stern, almost as if he was angry. You had successfully been hiding the fact that you didn’t eat in the morning because he often wasn’t awake, but now you were caught. Don’t do it, it’s not good for you. If you do it one more time, I’ll have to come force feed you, baby.

Baby. The little nickname that your nameless soulmate had called you by for years, since it was impossible to reveal your own name to them. It was funny, you would think sometimes, that you could share a hundred thousand thoughts with him but not the only thing that mattered. If only you knew his name…

I don’t need to know your name to find you. He answered in a softer voice, matching your thoughts. We’re meant for each other, baby, we’re soulmates for god’s sake! We just need to find each other when the time is right, and considering I haven’t seen anyone as beautiful as you, it’s not the right time.

As beautiful as me? You haven’t even seen me, how would you even…know that? Your eyes fell on the open notebook before you, the pages empty and without words.

I don’t need to see you to know that you’re beautiful. You could basically hear the smirk in his voice, and you internally scoffed. It’s true, baby! If your mind is this beautiful, you have to be gorgeous. I might even faint when I see you for the first time.

Yeah, right.

18 April

“I’m serious,” Jeno crossed his arms in front of you, looking you up and down before shaking his head. “You are absolutely miserable, Y/N. All you do is stay inside this goddamn room all day, and you barely even hang out with the me and the guys anymore! You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

You looked away from his piercing gaze, trying your best to suppress your feelings deep inside. As much as you knew you couldn’t be crying over such a stupid reason, you couldn’t help it.

Jeno had already found his soulmate, and it had been years since he had. He was happy with her, just like you ever wanted him to be, but the envy lying there for you to be him was constantly persisting. You wanted, more than anything in the world, to find your soulmate. But the last few days had been a battle between you and yourself, asking yourself over and over again whether you would really find him.

You had closed off your mind to your soulmate, not sharing your thoughts to him for the past week. It hurt, not being able to speak with him the way you always did, and you had broken the number one rule with him: to never close off your mind, no matter how hard it gets.

“Hey,” Jeno’s voice softened as he kneeled down to your position on your bed. “Wha-Why are you crying? What happened?”

You swiped at the tears falling continuously from your eyes, refusing to look at him. “You know, Jeno, it’s easy for you to preach all your happiness bullshit all the time: you’ve found your soulmate. You’ve always had her with you, so you don’t know what if feels like.”

“I’m never going to find him,” you whispered out the last words, closing your eyes tightly. “I’ll probably die before I do, and there’s no point. And you know what, I stopped talking to him a few days ago because I can’t do it anymore! I can’t sit and talk to someone mentally when it feels like they don’t even exist!”

There was only silence ringing through your room as Jeno watched you break down slowly, your sobs quiet but still there. He sighed, wrapping his arms around you to hold you still. “He does exist, Y/N. I promise you, he does exist.”

“And he’s waiting for you,” he continued, smoothing your hair down as your tears drenched his shirt. “He wants to find you as much as you do, so open it again. Talk to him. He’s waiting for you to come back.”

You closed your eyes tightly, knowing that Jeno was right. He was always right. But I need him back. Please come back. Please come back. I need to talk to him again.

He was there, you could feel it. You could hear his breathing, if that was even possible, the sound of his inhaling and exhaling that always calmed you down. He didn’t say anything, or rather think anything.

You felt the pain surging through you as you clutched Jeno’s shirt as if it were the only thing keeping your grounded to the universe. “He—”

Baby, why are you crying? Did you get hurt? Did something happen? What happened? You heard the concern relaxed through the voice you had missed for days. Please, baby, don’t cry. It hurts me too.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Jeno knew the words weren’t for him as your tears continued falling. “I’m sorry I closed off.”

It’s okay. He said in a soft rumble, along with the same chuckle. You felt it hurting, the pain becoming harder and harder to suppress until you realized, it wasn’t just your pain you were holding. It was his too. Please don’t do it again. I’m always here. I’m always here for you.

You heard his voice crack, a visible sound as you felt him cry too. “N-No, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.” But your words were lost in your self scolding, knowing that your selfishness had caused him pain. “I’m sorry.”

I’ll find you. We’ll find each other. I promise. We will, I know we will. That’s why we’re soulmates. We have to find each other, okay? Don’t give up.

I-I won’t.

Good. I missed your voice.

“I missed you too.”

24 May

It was midnight, well, possibly past midnight. And you were currently stuck inside Jeno’s not very large closet, alongside him and his friends.

Jeno’s friends were yours as well, meaning you were also friends with Donghyuck. He was a fun guy, one that always cheered you up but also joked around like it was his life. You really thought that he was going to die one day because of his love for pranking.

Then there was Mark and Renjun, who you weren’t as close with, but who were still good friends. Especially Mark, being all flustered and innocent all time, it really caught up on him when he’d be dared to ask a girl out. His excuse was always, “She’s not my soulmate!”

And then there was Jaemin and Jisung. They were the quieter bunch out of everyone else, but still fun to be around. Sometimes you thought that they were a little too secluded to themselves, and you tried to break them out of their boxes, but it was hard to.

Jaemin, especially, was the only other person in the group that had not found their soulmate. You two were common in that, and Jeno often offered for you to talk to him about it, but you weren’t sure if it was appropriate. You could tell, he was searching just as hard as you were, so much that he could barely even build a friendship with you. Likewise, a relationship.

“Okay! Spinning!” Donghyuck announced, taking the empty glass bottle and giving it a twist, and then leaning back against the wall. “Whoever it lands on has to confess something they’ve never done before.”

“What?” Mark asked confusedly, looking from him to you to Jeno. “I thought you were supposed to kiss whoever it landed on.”

“If you wanted me to kiss you, you could’ve just asked—”

The bottle stopped, the tip landing in front of Renjun. Everyone looked towards him. “Well?”

“Um, I’ve never kissed a guy.”

Before anyone could protest about his horribly heterosexual answer (because everyone knew he was the straightest guy there, after Mark of course), he took the chance to spin it the bottle.

It landed on Donghyuck, who rolled his eyes playfully, pointing to his lips drunkenly. “C’mon, baby, gimme me a kiss.”

You laughed out loud, clutching your stomach as Renjun started dodging the boy unsuccessfully. He didn’t stop until he got his kiss, making Mark look away all flustered as if he was the one kissed.

She’s pretty. Your heart almost stopped at the words pulsating through your mind from your soulmate, your smile falling instantly.

Who’s pretty? You were almost scared to ask, wondering if he had even meant to share that thought with you. But you could hear his chuckle, almost as if he was trying to cover up a mistake.

Jaemin shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, looking away on the gaze he had on you. His heart dropped, realizing what he had just done. My mom. She’s beautiful. I wish you could meet her.

He shook his head, glancing back at you before thinking to himself. Why’d she hear that? Jaemin’s eyes moved towards you again, seeing your demeanor as different than before. Maybe? But there’s no way, she already found her soulmate, right?

Who already found her soulmate? Jaemin could’ve spit out water if there was any in his mouth, but instead, he focused on Jeno’s laughing figure.

Huh? Oh, my friend. Sorry, baby, I keep bothering you with my weird thoughts. You thought he sounded a little odd, but you shook it off. He wouldn’t lie to you, that wasn’t like him.

Okay.

19 June

Today’s my last day of school. You tell your soulmate as you walked down your street, looking side to side before crossing the road. I can’t believe senior year’s over already. I feel like I was a freshman yesterday.

Hmm, really? Today’s my last day too. Are you sure we aren’t just the same person, baby? We’re so similar. He chuckled shortly after that, warming your heart a little. One day closer to seeing you.

That seemed to be your soulmate’s catch phrase lately, a little way of encouraging the both of you to get through the day: the promise of seeing each other. You giggled out loud, getting closer to the school.

You’re really optimistic, you know?

Only for you, baby. I can feel it, we’re gonna find each other soon. I’m finally gonna see how beautiful you really are.

You blushed at the words, grinning stupidly as you made it through the front door. Yeah? What if you’re more beautiful? What do we do then?

That’s not possible. His voice sounded so certain, as if he had already seen you a hundred times over and couldn’t get enough. You’re the most beautiful person I know.

Jaemin, who was sitting at his desk staring at his phone blankly, was also smiling widely. He felt the wave of pleasure and happiness wash over you, bathing him as well. The butterflies in his stomach were now in yours as well.

You’re so flirty. Your giggle was like heaven to him, making his insides turn over and over again as he wished to hear it again. I like it.

I like your voice. A lot. Does is sound the same in real life? Your laugh, it sounds so nice. Wait, can you sing?

Inside my head? I don’t know if I can think lyrics, though. I can’t really sing in reality, so I’m gonna assume that it sounds just as bad in your head—and mine.

Jaemin let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head to himself. You’re voice is my favorite, it’s like music to me. I could hear you talk for hours and I’d still listen.

Oh? Is that why you don’t tell me to shut up when I have a rant in the common mind room? You like my—voice, or like, thought voice?

I love it. And I can’t believe you just called this the ‘common mind room.’ The proper term is ‘soulmate reading room.’

And who said so?

Me, baby.

15 July

Jaemin shot up from his bed, feeling hot and sticky from the heat. He wasn’t sure why his sleep had been so rudely interrupted, but he sure had an idea when he felt a wave of deep pleasure course through him, making blood flow straight to where it really mattered.

He didn’t want to intrude on your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but stick his hands down his boxers and pull out his erect dick. It was throbbing, and the waves of pleasure being sent through him only made it worse.

Baby. You could barely think of any words to fill your head as you heard his voice deep in your mind, almost as if scolding you. You’re going to make me cum so fast, baby, slow down. God, it feels so good.

I’m sorry. Your voice sounded like it was pleading to him, asking for forgiveness immediately. But you couldn’t help but bring your fingers back down to your core, swiveling at the wetness that had developed. I think I had a dream about—something.

Jaemin wished he could imagine you, writhing underneath his grip as his tongue licked patiently down your gorgeous slit. Even the thought was so—sinful, and you heard each and every word of it, making it only more pleasurable to you.

Do you like it? Do you like it when you touch yourself, baby? How good does it feel, can you tell me? His words were filthy, and even though it was all in your head, it only heightened the arousal. Tell me how good you fuck yourself.

Your mind swerved at the thought, your fingers slowly entering your hole as you let out a small moan, trying not to make too much of a scene. Even though you were sure sounds like that couldn’t have been transmitted to your soulmate, it somehow did.

Fuck, you sound so pretty. He hummed, and it was more a sweet sound to your ear rather than your mind, making you buck your hips up and clench around your fingers. I wish I could see you right now. Fucking yourself so well.

You could fuck me better. You couldn’t help but have the thoughts pop up in your mind, swallowing a whine that he hears as well. As you felt the buildup of your orgasm, it increased quickly in less than a second, almost causing you to scream. Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Please.

I want you to cum, baby. Cum all over those pretty little fingers of yours. Think it’s me, it’s my hand, my fingers fucking you so good. C’mon baby, do it. I want to feel you.

Before he could say anymore, you had already come undone, your juices spilling down your thighs as you trembled. Thighs shaking, you muffled another whine with the sinking of your teeth into your sheets.

Just as you thought it was over, a second one can crashing down just as fast. You screamed into your pillow, color bursting into your eyes and your voice pleading over and over again for him, him, him. It was so good, so good that it felt wrong when your uncontrollable shaking slowly ceased.

Oh my god. I think I just ascended into the afterlife. That felt way too good. I can’t believe I felt it too, oh fuck.

Yeah, baby. It’s that good. I could cum over and over again just for you. Just to hear your voice in my mind whimpering like that, hmm, I’d do it everyday. Fuck, you’re making me so horny, baby, you’re so hot.

You couldn’t help but tiredly giggle at his statement, feeling a little proud of yourself for not only making yourself feel good, but your soulmate as well. I didn’t know that was something we could do.

You didn’t?

Wait, you did?!

I didn’t do it for so long because you never touched yourself like this before, baby. You’ve never orgasmed before. This was your first time.

You turned around in your bed, your legs feeling disgustingly sticky now. But you were far to lazy to clean up, and resorted to cuddling yourself in your blankets.

Wouldn’t it be your first time too?

There was a pause, and you wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep. But he came back, his chuckle vibrating again.

Of course. I didn’t want to scare you before, so I didn’t try anything with myself. Hmm, but god I’m so glad you did. That was—hmm, so good.

We should do it again.

Oh fuck yes, baby, we’ll do it again. And I’ll, hmm, make you feel so good when I find you. So fucking good, I promise. Better than you felt just now.

But you didn’t hear those last thoughts, your mind drifting off into another land without your soulmate. Jaemin felt it, smiling to himself softly as he closed his own eyes, letting his sleep take him away.

I love you.

16 July

It was nine in the evening when your best friend decided to scare the living shit out of you by climbing through your bedroom window (it was a regular occurrence, but it didn’t make it any more normal) to drag you out of your house.

He was taking you camping, at least that’s what he mumbled as he ‘packed’ a bag for you, which you were looking through later in his car, realizing he had nicely packed useless shirts but not one pair of shorts.

“I’m gonna have to wear these shorts for next few days, you know!” You slapped his arm, but all he did was roll his eyes, continuing to drive to the camp ground. “And why didn’t you care to inform me of this earlier?”

“Well, you would’ve said no and I would’ve just climbed through your window anyway, so I thought I could save the whole ‘no’ part and just surprise you. So...surprise!”

It sure was a surprise indeed when you realized how many people were at the actual campsite. All of the guys were there, along with their respective soulmates. It made your heart drop a little as you saw Jeno walk off to his love, and even looking around, you couldn’t help but dull at the thought.

Jisung and his girlfriend were sitting at the edge by the river, talking softly amongst each other as they giggled. Even seeing the youngest boy so happy made you feel—pity for yourself, and you had to shake your head a few times to get rid of the envy.

“Y/N!” You turned around to Jeno’s girlfriend’s voice. She had a marshmallow and a stick in her hand, gesturing for you to come over to the bonfire that Mark somehow actually made without hurting himself.

As you reached her, you took a seat beside her, gasping a bit when she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling her head against yours. “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

She was a good friend of yours, definitely not as close as you were with Jeno as she didn’t go to the same school as the two of you. But she as the sisterly figure that you always needed in your life, cheering you up and loving you to death.

Everyone eventually gathered around the fire, roasting their marshmallows and singing loudly to the trashy music blasting from Donghyuck’s speaker. Your eyes scanned through the circle, and your eyes fell on the only other single person in the crowd: Jaemin.

He was standing next to Renjun and his girlfriend, smiling alongside everyone else as they continued to have fun. As you let your eyes linger for a moment longer, he looked up, locking your gaze with his.

You offered him a small smile, feeling like it would be rude to just ignore him and he returned it, calming your nerves a little bit. God, why am I so nervous around him?

I don’t know, baby, try not to be.

You paused in the middle of your s’more, blinking a few times at the response from your soulmate. Wait, you heard that?

Um, not sure if you realized but we share a mind.

Looking away briefly, you watched as Chenle dramatically revealed the food that he had bought before arriving here. But I didn’t want you to hear that.

Ouch, that kinda hurt, baby.

You chuckled internally, smiling at his fake hurt voice, focusing back on eating your s’more. Just as you finished, you felt to hands on your back, pushing you towards the side.

Stumbling, you looked up to Jeno’s girlfriend, who had her arms crossed with a funny sort of stern look on her face. You looked over at Jisung, who gave you a apologetic look for his (reluctant) hard push.

“So I heard that you have memory issues? Memory issues that affect how much your eating, that’s what Jeno here tells me. Now, is it because you actually have a memory loss problem or do you just not eat?”

You glanced at Jeno, who was just looking at you with wide eyes. “Hey, I eat! I just—forget sometimes. I’m alone this whole summer, I suck at cooking, and I’m broke so...I just usually forget to eat.”

“Well, that excuse is not gonna work today!”

A plate of friend chicken was pushed into your hand by Chenle’s girlfriend, who gave you a sweet smile as you made your way back to your seat.

It was past midnight now, the darkness seemed to overtake everything else around the camp ground, making the river look colder. The chirping of the crickets was still there, their volume increasing as each hour passed.

Jaemin had watched the scene from farther away, and it confused him as he watched you eat. How does she forget something like that? Wouldn’t it...hurt?

I don’t know, baby, wouldn’t it?

Your voice was a mock of his sentence from earlier, and there was a brief silence. See, you didn’t want me to hear that, right?

I don’t know; that’s weird.

It was weird, usually when you didn’t want your soulmate to hear your personal thoughts, you could close it off to them. But lately, it seemed to do exactly the opposite. Maybe, it was a glitch in the system?

Or maybe we’re getting closer to finding each other. He sighed, the hopefulness that was usually in his voice gone without a trace. I don’t know anymore, baby.

Me neither.

“Okay, I love you all to death, but I need my sleep.” Jeno’s girlfriend announced, the music finally ceasing and allowing the quietness engulf the area. “There are seven tents, so claim yours. Me and Jeno have the blue one.”

Each of the couples went one after the other, claiming their tents quickly until you were left with, naturally—

“I guess we’re sharing, then?” Jaemin came up from behind you, handing over your bag that he probably picked up from the ground earlier. “If you want to? I can ask one of the guys—”

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He nodded, making his way to the tent that was left over for the other couple’s hoarding: the one closest to the river. It was a little eerie, especially when he opened up the tent to the light inside.

In a simple sense, it was small. The sleeping bags were much to close to each other for a couple of friends, but there wasn’t anything else to do as you glanced over at the boy.

“I’ll take the one over there,” you gestured to the one farthest from the entrance, but then added, “unless you want to?”

“Go for it, I don’t mind.” His voice rang from your answer earlier as you made your way inside, settling down on the sleeping bag you recognized as Jeno’s. This is gonna be awkward.

What’s gonna be awkward?

You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, taking a few sips. I’m just in a little bit of an awkward situation right now, that’s all.

Well, do you wanna have sex?

The water you had just put into your mouth came spitting out, wetting your clothes as the bottle titled. The shock of your soulmate’s random thought had hit you hard, and now your shorts were drenched with dirty water.

Jaemin looked over at you, seeing you suddenly look like you went swimming in the river with your clothes on. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” you stood up, examining yourself. “Y-Yeah, it just—went down the wrong pipe, I guess.” I’m soaked, fuck. At least the sheets aren’t wet though.

“Wait,” the boy ruffled through his bag, pulling out a small towel and handing it to you. “I can leave if you want to change?”

“Thanks,” you dabbed at your skin, trying to get the water off yourself as best as you could. “If you don’t mind...”

Nodding, he unzipped the tent, stepping outside to leave you in your own thoughts. What the fuck?!

What? Do you not want to?

I just said I’m in an awkward situation and you want to have sex?! What kind of logic is that? You pulled off your clothes, throwing over one of the over-sized shirts that Jeno had very nicely remembered to stuff in your bag.

It could ease the height of the situation!

You scoffed, wiping away the rest of the water on your body as you heard your soulmate’s familiar chuckle. There are other people here, I’m not doing anything.

As you made your way to the entrance of the tent, you felt an odd wave pass through your body, making your core pulsate involuntarily. I could make you cum in front of all those people, hmm? You would like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking yourself for me so good?

No.

I know you do, baby. You know how?

You walked to the end of the tent, pulling down the zipper to see Jaemin’s back to you. “Jaemin,” he perked up at the sound of your voice, finally seeing you. “You can come inside.”

Because I can feel you trembling.

The way Jaemin looked in your eyes right now was breathtaking, his hair askew as he stepped back into the small lighting of the tent. You lingered on him for a moment too long, feeling the heat growing in your core immediately.

I can tell you like it.

You laid down against the pillow, your heart pounding from the arousal coursing through you. Please don’t, there are other people here. You’re gonna embarrass the fuck out of me.

Turning your back to Jaemin, you felt your entire body shiver, but not from the cold this time. He was touching himself, and you could tell from the way that his internal breathing was hitched, making you grab on tightly to the end of your bag.

“Hey, I’m gonna turn the lights out,” you heard Jaemin’s voice in the background, and you could’ve sworn that they echoed through your head as well. “Y/N?”

“Y-Yeah, okay.”

In a moment it was pitch black, allowing yourself to curl up into yourself as you felt the buildup in your stomach growing. Please, please, please.

Please, what?

Now being in the dark, your senses seemed to heighten, the pleasurable and painful throbbing to your clit being too much to ignore. You let your fingers wander to your clit, finally pressing against it, rubbing slowly. Successfully staying quiet, you dipped your fingers past your folds, feeling the wetness collect on your fingertips. You’re gonna make me cum.

I know, baby, that’s kind of the point.

Just as you started massaging against your clit a little faster, you heard a shift from Jaemin beside you, making you stop your motions for a moment. Your heart was in your throat now, the risk of being caught being so, so high. Faster, please.

You couldn’t believe that you were begging for more, but your soulmate certainly loved it. I wish I could hear you right now, baby. Hmm, you’d sound so good.

Finally, you let your fingers slip into your hole, letting out a soft sigh. It wasn’t too loud, you hoped, but the sound was amplified in Jaemin’s mind, almost making him cum at it.

Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum to your sounds, baby. Don’t stop, keep fucking yourself for me.

The dominant tone in his voice as you quickened your pace took over your body, your panting increasing as you stifles them with your pillow. You just hoped that you wouldn’t make too much of a mess, this was Jeno’s sleeping bag after all.

Jaemin, on the other hand, didn’t really give a shit. Just hearing his soulmate whine because of him turned him on so fast, making it increase his pumping. He had assumed that you had fallen asleep, at least from the soft sounds that you were releasing, so he had all the time to himself.

But he wasn’t too loud, at least he tried not to be for the sake of you. You couldn’t hear anything, however, your mind only focusing on finding your release quickly. Please, please, I need to cum.

He didn’t respond to your plead, only continuing to build the both of you up in a tighten knot. Jaemin bit down on his lip, hoping that he wasn’t breathing too loudly to wake you up, but he didn’t seem to really care when his seed spurted from his cock.

At the same time his hand was being covered in his own milky liquid, your fingers slipped out of you with ease as you shuddered, his orgasm having a huge effect on you. With a quick movement, you buried your head against the pillow, calming your breaths as quickly as possible. Hmm, fuck.

It took you a while before you finally calmed down, the throbbing between your legs stopping as you heard your soulmate’s chuckle in your head. You liked it?

Humming, you nodded as if he could see you. Yes, I liked it. Thank you. You felt your lids growing heavy with your thoughts, and your eyes finally shut with the memory of his voice in your head.

Sweet dreams, my love.

17 July

You woke up with a small jolt from inside your body, the electricity coursing through your veins strong enough to make you open your eyes to the bright light flooding the tent. The first thing you noticed, however, were the fact that you were unable to move.

Looking at the position now, you had no clue how you had even gotten here: your body snuggled close to Jaemin’s, legs tangled and his head resting against your chest. Even as you shifted slightly, he stirred gently, his arms tightening around your waist. How did I even get here? It’s so...tight.

Good morning to you too, baby. You’re awake so early.

Oh, you’re awake. You looked down at the pink hair below you, making you want to lace your fingers through it. I’m in a bit of a sticky situation again.

Jaemin scrunched up his face, still facing away from you as his legs enclosed yours tighter. He should’ve pulled away, perhaps a while ago, but something deep inside of him was telling him not to let go. What’s wrong?

Huh? Nothing, it’s just another...awkward situation I got myself into. You struggled against his grip, trying at least to get your arms out, but they were trapped.

What happened? Jaemin could hear the sound of your racing heart, increasing with every move that either of you made. Baby?

Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, I’m just in another awkward situation with someone and I don’t even think it’s their fault.

Jaemin’s eyes trailed down your clothed skin, landing on the exposed portion of your legs that were secured tightly under his. It was an intimate position, and he knew that he couldn’t keep you in it for too long...not unless.

He looked up slowly, his eyes meeting yours hesitantly before he stared deeply into yours. You didn’t say anything, your mind going blank as the boy in front of you stared back at you with an expression of awe on his face. He’s too close.

You’re right, I’m too close. Jaemin was hesitant with his thought, but you could hear his breathing going through your mind as he inched closer. His thought echoed in your mind, but it sounded more as if Jaemin had told you those words.

His face inched closer to yours: eyes fluttering from your eyes to lips with the parting of his mouth. Jaemin hesitated, his hands finding purchase to your back as he pressed them down, feeling the spark that ignited both of you.

You couldn’t help but feel that something was right for the first time in your life as his lips brushed past yours, almost setting them on fire from the pure ecstasy of the touch. Finally, with a single sigh leaving him, his lips pressed against yours, feeling you wholeheartedly.

And the moment it happened, you knew it. You knew that the feeling you had wasn’t just yours, not when his hand snaked up to your chin, titling it to allow him in deeper. Your tongue clashed with his, both of the wet muscles massaging each other with a slow pace as if you had waited your entire life for this moment.

You felt it, I know you felt it. Jaemin pulled at your waist, settling you under him as he planted his knees beside your hips. His hands found yours, intertwining your fingers with his. Tell me you felt it, baby.

If you aren’t kissing me right now, your thought came out cracked, your lips devouring Jaemin’s without a second thought, then I might cry.

Your soulmate chuckled, the sound vibrating in both of you and for the first time, it felt real. Everything, for once, felt like it was real. The burning touch of skin against each other, the clash of saliva; it all felt real. Well, baby, I don’t think you have to cry.

He pulled away for a brief second, eyes darting around your entire face before tears welled up in his eyes, a shaky smile breaking out. Your fingers laced through his hair, bringing him closer to kiss him again, deeper than before. We did it, baby, we did it.

You felt him crying, the pain mixing with the happiness perfectly as hot tears poured from your own eyes as well. We finally did it, we found each other.

Jaemin.

He could’ve died, he thought as he pulled you over his lap, cupping your face in his hands as if you were the most important thing in the world to him. The only thought he could never share with you was the only one he wanted to hear from your voice inside of his head; the one that reached out to him from depths beyond the love you both had for each other. And he finally heard it.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he muttered softly, burying his face into your neck, leaving a trail of feathered kisses. His hands caressed your hair softly as he looked up at you with those big eyes, the ones so full of love and joy. “I love you so much.”

You didn’t trust yourself with words, but a grin broke out from you as you watched him breakdown before you. It was the most beautiful sight; the moment of a boy confessing his love to his one and only soulmate, and you could’ve wished to live in that moment forever. 

“You’re my soulmate,” your voice was more a whisper, but he heard it, he had always heard it. Fingers pressed into the skin of his neck as he leaned against your chest again, feeling the beat of your heart. “Jaemin...”

“Yeah, that’s me,” his laugh was broken, arms holding your body so tightly as if you were going to slip away from his grasp in less than a second. “I’ve found you, baby.”

“Can you say my name again, baby? In our mind, please? I want to hear your voice again.”

I could say it a million times. Your voice echoed through his mind, and his lips found your skin again, kissing and kissing and kissing. Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin. I love you, Jaemin.

I can’t believe you were right here this whole time. It took me so long to realize that it was you all along, it was you this whole time.

“I know,” you held his head against you, the comfort radiating from him never going away. “But I’m so glad, I’m so glad it’s you.”

Me too, baby. I couldn’t have wished for anyone better.

It felt like two people in love after years of being alone. And it felt like two people meeting each other, after an entire lifetime of not meeting each other.

previous | next

[1a-imagines]

First kiss headcannons

Characters: Midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima

A/n: I usually only do three characters per post but!! hear me out here-

kirishima

Thats all, i couldn't decide between the four of them so i thought why the fuck not? More love to go around. Please enjoy.

Midoriya:

He'll be pretty shy at the start of the relationship, so that means you're going to have to initiate the first kiss.

But you don't have to worry about if he wants it or not.

He may be too shy to initiate it but he will stare at your lips non stop.

Talking to him? Staring at your lips.

Eating? Staring at your lips.

He's trying to sike himself up to kiss you but he can't bring himself to.

You make him too weak.

Anytime he gets close to kissing you his body suddenly feels like it's on fire and his legs turn into jello.

And it's all too obvious to everyone around him (including you) that all he thinks about is kissing you.

So when you finally decide to give him a break and kiss him, he's more than overjoyed.

You grabbed his cheeks between your palms and place a sweet kiss onto his lips.

'Oh my god y/n's kissing me!!!'

He's completely freaking out- in a good way of course!

He's so happy and excited.

He's waited for this day for a long time now.

It might take him a few seconds to kiss back so don't pull away too fast.

He's just processing the fact that it's really happening.

He wants to savour it.

It'll be soft and slow. His kiss will be shy as he experiments with it in hopes to find out what you like.

His hands will shakily place themselves on your hips, it's so gentle it feels like a ghost's touch.

He's a bit tense to start off with but you can get him to relax by running your fingers through his hair.

You'll be able to hear the soft shaky breaths he intakes through his nose as your lips move in sync.

His heart's beating so fast and his head is spinning.

You can feel the heat radiating from his freckled cheeks and it's so cute.

Depending on how sensual the kiss is you might even get a small whimper or whine from him, which will only make his blush deepen.

When you finally do pull back he looks like he's in a completely different world to yours.

He's so dazed.

It'll only take a few more seconds for him to smile the biggest, love sick smile you've ever seen.

My god he hopes you do that more often.

He'll pull you into a tight hug and you'll most likely be stuck there for a good few hours.

All he'll think about for the next 2 weeks is that kiss and you can tell when he's thinking about it because he traces his fingers over his lips

Please give him more kisses.

Bakugo

He may not be the most affectionate towards you.

Especially to begin with.

Sure, he likes you a lot but, it just doesn't really occur to him to hold your hand or give you hugs.

He's not that kinda guy, he has other things that occupy his mind.

And even in the rare instance when he does think about it he's too prideful to actually carry it out.

But when he catches himself thinking about how soft your lips look and how he could just lean forward and-

Fuck!

He's not sure how much longer his pride can hold up.

It was like you were teasing him without even being aware of it.

Believe it or not, he does want to do all that romantic shit with you but another part of him keeps holding himself back.

It's an internal struggle.

But be patient with him.

Eventually, he becomes so pent up he bursts.

That's when you get your smooch.

You were just so goddamn gorgeous! Your lips were perfect and looked so- kissable!?

Why did you have to do this shit to him!?

One second you're sitting alone talking to him about your day as a movie plays in the background and the next he's grabbing the back of your head and pulling you into a heated kiss.

He doesn't have a clue what he's doing so it's kind of rough and sloppy to start with

But this is what you get for making him feel so pent up!

If you think it's going to be a quick first kiss then you're wrong.

He might pull away for a second to stare into your eyes but suddenly he can't hold himself back.

He was right, your lips were so soft and now he needed more.

In a matter of seconds he's all over you again.

This time is a lot softer, but still just hungry as the last.

He'll pull you close, and hands may or may not wander depending on how enthusiastically you reply to his kiss.

You'll end up making out until you're out of breath because- damn he's hooked on this feeling.

You're hairs going to get messy and your shirt will get pushed up a little.

But he won't go past that.

When he pulls away he'll just stare at you for a few seconds as you both tried to catch your breath.

You might assume he's going to kiss you again as he stares at you with an intense look.

But he ends up turning his head away from you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you to his side. All while his cheeks are flushed pink.

"Tch… dumbass, distracting me from the movie..."

That one kiss will wake something in him and you're going to get kisses like that a lot more often.

Todoroki

Your first kiss will take awhile.

This baby is opening up slowly so you have to be patient.

But there has been the odd kiss to your knuckles when you've been out on dates and such.

He only does it because he saw it in a movie once-

Poor baby has no idea what he's doing.

But he still wants to show he cares about you.

Your first kiss won't happen until you two have a really intimate or emotional moment.

It'll be just the two of you.

When he's most vulnerable and open.

It's late at night and you're talking as you sit on his floor, he might be opening up to you about his past or his feelings in general as you hold him in your arms.

It's new to him but you've somehow managed to coax it out of him.

He feels so comfortable and safe with you.

It was something he hadn't felt for a long time and it made him feel a sense of belonging.

All he could hear as he talked was your steady breath, and the feeling of your hand running through his hair felt amazing.

He almost fell asleep.

He pulled away from your embrace, only far enough to look into your eyes.

He just wanted to tell you how he appreciated you being here to listen to him.

But there was something more between you two.

It was like an intense, unspoken need?

He didn't know what it was..

He caught you glancing down to his lips and he saw your face move slightly closer to his

He could feel the pull as well and he leaned forward with you until your lips lightly brushed together, not quite a kiss but you could still feel his lips on yours.

You noses brushed together a few times as your eyes hung half lidded

You were both testing the waters for a few seconds to make sure you both really wanted this.

The mood in the room told you everything you needed to know and you both finally leaned forward the rest of the way.

His hand automatically went to your hair.

He had always loved running his fingers through it, it was so soft and relaxing.

His other hand went to your waist.

You never would have expected your first kiss with him to be so passionate.

He put all his emotions into that one single kiss.

It's slow, breathtaking, passionate yet innocent all at once.

It lingered for a long time, your lips still tingling even when you pulled away.

When he pulls back he won't exactly know what to say.

So instead he silently grabs your hand and stares into your eyes.

And for the first time in a long time he felt a big, warm smile curl onto his lips.

'This is what love feels like.'

Kirishima

Finally, someone who's open with his emotions and feelings!

Your first kiss won't take long at all, well, only if you're comfortable with that of course!

He has no problem with waiting.

Unlike the others; when he feels the need to finally kiss you he'll just straight up tell you.

You two are out on a walk and you're laughing at something he said when he suddenly feels the urge to do it.

Sometime about your sweet laugh and angelic smile had given him the overwhelming need to kiss you.

So he straight up asks you.

"Hey.. can i kiss you?"

He's a gentleman, of course he'll ask permission first!

He is aware it might be too soon so better to ask than push something on you that you might not be ready for.

That would be totally unmanly!

You've only been dating for a little while so if you're not comfortable with it he will be totally cool with it and change the subject so you don't feel bad.

But if you say yes then he's going to get the biggest grin on his face.

He looks like an excited puppy as he stops you from walking and turns you to him.

He takes both your hands in his and softly pulls you towards him until your chest meets his.

He's pretty nervous about it since he's never kissed anyone before but he's more just excited to experience it.

And he's experiencing it with you of all people!!

He feels so lucky! There's no way he could pass up a chance like this!

It'll be a small kiss, not much movement.

Just a soft lingering kiss.

He doesn't want to overdo it and accidentally make you uncomfortable.

But it's still so heartfelt

He can't even hold it for long because he's smiling too much!

When he pulls away he gives you the goofiest grin you've ever seen.

He's completely love struck.

"Wow…" He breathes out. "You got a really nice pair of lips on you."

He's so giddy he even starts laughing, he can't help it! He's just so happy! It was the best feeling in the world!

There's isn't anything that could happen that would take that smile off his face for the rest of the day.

He's going to get a lot more confident about giving you kisses now, so you can expect many more to come.

And everytime you share a kiss he never fails to pull away with the biggest, dorkiest grin you've ever seen.

[hetacon]

Curb Your Enthusiasm, Princey

Word Count: 2,650

Pairings: Prinxiety, Brotherly Creativitwins, Parental Analogical, Very Slightly Implied Familial Analogicality, Very Slightly Implied Logicality

Warning: Cursing, banter, kissing cause why not

______________________________

Summary: Virgil is joined out on the curb by his new neighbor across the street.

______________________________

Ever since junior high, Virgil had made a habit of going out to the curb of his house around 1 in the morning and just sitting there. Save for rainy days and perhaps the odd time when he wasn’t at home, he’d always do it. It was nice and comforting. He usually had to put on a hoodie from the slight chill but he was content to sit out on the concrete, pajama pants and all, just looking up at the stars with his headphones on.

One night, things were going as normal until he noticed someone approaching the curb from the other side of the street, a person around his age. Virgil paused his music, possibly as a chance to eavesdrop. He heard the person let out a sigh as they sat down and Virgil cursed himself as their eyes met. The person smiled, goddammit. There went his evening plans for the end of all time, never going out again he concluded.

“Do you always brood out here in the dark?” the person asked, a teasing tone to their voice.

Virgil glared at them a little. The stranger laughed.

“A look that could kill indeed, you seem like you’re fun at parties.”

That went on for a bit as Virgil continued ignoring them or giving a glare or two as the person tried to get him to talk.

After half an hour, Virgil’s 1 AM companion got up and stretched.

“Well my emo nightmare, I must say that I have been thoroughly engrossed in our conversation but I must be off. A prince must get his beauty sleep~!” the stranger sang out a bit, starting to turn a bit.

“As if sleep could fix that,” Virgil huffed out with a smirk, only for it to grow wider as the guy across the street gave a dramatic gasp and whipped around.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, your bitchness,” Virgil replied back without a moment of hesitation.

“Well-! And here I thought this would be the start of a cliché and passionate romance!” was the guy’s reply.

“Don’t get your hair in a twist, Princey, I’m way outta your league,” Virgil hummed.

“Then fine, if that’s how you’re going to be!”

“Yep,” Virgil said, popping the p and clicking his tongue with a wink.

The guy’s cheeks flushed a bit. “Goddamn you,” he mumbled, turning to go inside for real.

_____

Virgil was expecting only that one encounter but the next night, his neighbor decided trying to stir up more conversation, out on the curb in the first 10 minutes Virgil was.

“Good evening, my dark and mysterious companion,” Virgil’s neighbor greeted, bowing mockingly. “And what do I owe this honor for us meeting once again?”

Virgil watched as the guy grinned rather boyishly and he rolled his eyes, trying to fight off a smile. “It’s not an honor, trust me. It wasn’t for you if you’re even considering that.”

“Well now, can’t you leave a man to his unrealistic dreams of summer romance?” came his neighbor’s response.

“As long as you know they’re unrealistic, ya royal pain in the ass. Virgil by the way,” he introduced.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful person such as yourself I see! Roman Prince, a pleasure to meet you,” the guy, Roman supposedly, said.

“Prince? Wow, that could not be more on the nose could it?” Virgil laughed to himself.

“Oh, and what? Is your last name all dark and broody like you?” Roman asked.

Virgil shook his head. “The opposite, Princey. Hart.”

“Virgil Hart.”

“Yep.”

Roman blinked for a moment. “You... are actually a kitten.”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Virgil said as he lied down on the concrete. “I don’t give a crap about your opinion of me.”

“I admire that,” Roman replied, smiling to Virgil. “Not a lot of people can really say that, you know.”

Virgil felt his cheeks heating up. “I mean, I care a little because like, anxiety, but other than that, it doesn’t really matter.”

Roman chuckled and Virgil looked over to see that he was the recipient of a rather adoring gaze.

“... What?”

“I admire the honesty even more.”

“Whatever, sap.”

_____

The third night in a row, Virgil didn’t hesitate to flip Roman off with a smirk, receiving an offended gasp from the guy taking a seat on the curb. Virgil couldn’t help but laugh as that part became their greeting.

It became a nice little routine. They talked for a while, things were going well and they got to know each other from the hour of time they shared outside.

_____

“So you come out every night?” Roman asked, yawning afterwards as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes to the best of his ability.

“Yeah, helps me clear my head,” Virgil told him.

“When did it start?”

“I had a panic attack one night, felt trapped in the house. So I decided to show myself I wasn’t and came out here. I’ve just been doing it ever since. Nothing special.”

Roman shrugged. “I think it’s cool that you were able to work with the anxiety rather than push it back.”

“When you’ve been dealing with it since you were a kid, you learn how to deal with it, you know?”

“No, unfortunately not.”

“Eh, that’s fair. Trust me, you’re not missing much.”

Roman laughed. “No, I imagine I’m not,” he replied, smiling to Virgil.

“Hey Princey, by the way, what’s up with you and romance?” Virgil asked, looking over to him.

Roman blinked, looking very thrown off by the timing of the question. Virgil tried not to smile at the reaction.

“What do you mean?” was the response Virgil was given.

“I mean like, you always talk about love and summer romance and flirt with me and all that kind of stuff, I was just wondering if there was a reason.”

Roman nodded. “Ah. Well,” he cleared his throat. “Just always loved the ideas of love I suppose. Grew up on Disney Princess movies, I just always was fascinated by the stories. And since most of them concern romance, it only makes sense. Plus my neighbor doesn’t hurt the idea.”

“Oh shut up,” Virgil laughed.

“What?” Roman feigned innocence.

“You can’t go a single night without flirting and you know it,” Virgil told him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well with you, it’s certainly not difficult~”

_____

Roman brought someone out one night, something that was definitely not precedented.

The person in question looked exactly like Roman except for a slight mustache. Virgil guessed it was Roman’s twin that he’d mentioned a few times, go figures they’d look exactly alike. He wore a grey tank top and green cargo shorts, looking like he was just dragged out of bed. From the looks of it, he’d been crying.

Virgil watched on in silence as Roman sat the two of them down, leaning his twin’s head against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the twin’s shoulder. Roman gave him a gentle squeeze and he leaned in closer to Roman’s hold.

“You want to meet Virgil?” Virgil could faintly hear from across the street to which the twin nodded, looking up with a tired and drained expression.

Virgil smiles sympathetically and gave the twin a small wave.

“Virge, I believe I’ve told you about me having a sibling before. This is Remus,” Roman said softly, looking down to Remus.

“Sup, Roman hasn’t shut up about you for weeks,” Remus said without much more explanation.

Virgil laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Does it consist of gushing about potential romance and how I look like a Hot Topic exploded, only for that to add to my charm and appeal?” he teased, smirking towards Roman with a wink.

Roman gasped, only to gasp even louder when Remus started talking.

“Fuck yeah, it’s nothing but ‘Oh, he’s so gorgeous and stunning, I simply can’t resist him! He’s my soulmate Remus- Hey stop laughing at me!’” Remus said as a response, making dramatic movements to mimic his brother.

Roman pushed him, pouting. “This is unfair! You’re my brother, you’re supposed to love me!” he whined out, only for Remus and Virgil to start laughing.

“Never said I don’t!” Remus hummed out.

“Asshole!”

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to Virgil~”

After a second, Roman’s eyes widened and he turned to Virgil. “You’re not, I promise, I don’t even remotely think of you like that, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance,” he tried to defend.

Remus and Virgil smirked to each other.

“Awwww, you came up with an emo themed pet name for me? You have it bad~” Virgil cooed.

Roman’s cheeks flared bright red and he moved his eyes down to his hands clasped together in his lap. Remus clapped his hand over Roman’s back, making the latter jump a bit as Remus stood up.

“Well, it’s been an honor, I give my official seal of approval to marry my bro bro!” Remus said with a goofy bow, cracking a smile at Virgil.

“Good to know I have your approval to torment him till death do us part,” Virgil replied with a smirk.

Remus turned to Roman, pointing a finger at Virgil. “I like him, don’t fuck yourself over,” he commented before going inside.

“I hate him sometimes,” Roman grumbled as soon as the front door shut.

“I have no clue why,” Virgil hummed back.

“I hate you too.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princey~”

_____

“Alright, if you had to give up Disney or drama for the rest of your life, which would you choose?” Virgil asked with a smirk, hearing Roman gasp loudly.

“You dare make me choose between two of my darling babies?” Roman whined, holding a hand to his forehead.

“Geez, I think it’s looking like Disney, drama is hardwired into you, Sir Sing-a-lot,” Virgil snorted, smirking.

“I hate that stupid smirk you get when you think you’re being clever and hot as all hell,” Roman grumbled, pouting as Virgil only smirked wider.

“Awwww, how cute~”

“Shut up, Hot Topic.”

“Aww, you think I’m hot~”

“I will actually come over there and hit you.”

“And risk messing up my hotness? Nah, you wouldn’t dare~”

_____

“Do you really have to move so far away..?” Virgil asked softly one night, a year from their first meeting.

“This school is a really good one, I want to try my luck at show business, you know?” Roman told him, holding the same sad expression as Virgil was.

“I know, it just... sucks for me,” Virgil sighed. “I feel like I just got to know you and now you’re leaving me forever.”

Roman laughed, giving Virgil an amused expression. “You say this as if I can’t text you.”

“You’ve never given me your number, I don’t know how you would,” Virgil said with a tight smile.

Roman was finding some way to laugh and find light of the situation, just as he always seemed to do. It reminded Virgil of his dad in all honesty. Virgil couldn’t see how there was much in this situation to smile about but he tried. He tried because he loved Roman.

He loved Roman..

“Roman.”

Roman’s gaze landed on Virgil as he looked up. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

If it was possible, Virgil thought this was the brightest red Roman had ever turned.

“What?”

“I love you, Roman Prince, and if that’s horribly offensive to you, you don’t have to give me your number and you can forget about me when you become a famous actor,” Virgil only half-joked, hugging himself. He shouldn’t have said that, he felt like he was going to cry and for no good reason too. He was going to look like a crybaby in front of the guy he just told about his feelings, this could not get much worse.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yeah, why else would I say it?” Virgil muttered out.

Roman laughed loudly. “I love you too, my dark and stormy knight! Oh I love you with all my heart and I will as long as you accept it!”

Virgil looked up, seeing Roman basically bouncing in place on the curb, his eyes wide and filled with excitement. He definitely was beautiful, Virgil would never doubt that.

_____

For the first time in a while, Virgil had company. Not Roman, unfortunately, he was still going to be at college for another month or so. Virgil was outside sitting with one of his dads tonight.

“So you come out here every night?” Logan asked.

“Yep, it helps.”

“I’m glad it does. I can see why, it is nice to get some fresh air. Hopefully your dad is still asleep, I’d hate for him to panic.”

“He’ll be fine, he knows I’m out here and will probably come out here to ask if he does wake up.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Virgil leaned his head on Logan’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he was pulled closer. They stayed like that in silence for a little bit.

“So when does Roman get back again?” Logan asked, a suspicious tone to his voice.

With a sigh, Virgil looked over to his papa. “He won’t be back for a-“

“Oh I think right about now,” a voice in front of them chuckled.

Virgil’s eyes flicked up in an instant.

Roman.

“You’re here early,” Virgil muttered out dumbly, something Roman was barely able to hear from across the street.

“Yep, I am,” he chuckled, bowing. “Virgil. Mr. Hart, a pleasure truly.

Logan smiled at Roman’s antics. “And to you yourself. I trust that my son is in good hands now, watch after him,” he said with a squeeze to Virgil’s shoulders before getting up and heading to the house.

“It would be my honor and privilege,” Roman said gently, more so to Virgil than anyone else.

“I can’t believe you’re here...” Virgil dumbly emphasized.

“Yes, well. I finished a semester early and wanted to hurry back home but needed to stay a few more months. I would’ve liked to spend the holidays with you ideally but c’est la vie, there’s not much I can do about it now! Is my presence still welcome regardless?” Roman asked with an awkward grin.

“Yes, god you idiot,” Virgil laughed out.

Roman couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Then I shall offer my companionship for the night,” he said as he sat down, still looking to Virgil with that smile.

Virgil quickly got up and started walking forward, stopping to look both ways across the street before rushing over to Roman, practically tackling him to the ground. Roman’s laugh was quieted as Virgil’s hands cupped his cheeks and Virgil was kissing him for a brief moment.

“Wow, oh boy, is kissing always supposed to make you feel this high?” Roman asked with a giggle, a dazed and happy expression taking over his face. “I’ll have to go away more if it means getting greetings like that,” he muttered out dreamily to himself.

Virgil flipped him off without hesitation.

“Ah, there’s my charming prince’s usual greeting, how I’ve missed it~”

“Shut up. You’re not going anywhere,” Virgil mused, kissing his cheek.

“Well with you here, it’s hardly difficult to stay~” Roman hummed, leaning in to kiss Virgil again.

______________________________

Taglist: @artissijam, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

[cockasinthebird]

hi!! can you write steve getting all horny in class and billy noticed it and because of the dick he is he throws steve a paper where he says all filthy things and the way he would fuck steve right now and steve’s trying his best to keep himself calm. then of course billy fucks steve in the janitors closet after the class.

Oh dearest anon, believe you me when I say that I have been thinking about this already, and then you come in here to read my goddamn mind, you gorgeous piece of filth!! Hope you’ll enjoy!

-

Steve Harrington is a normal teen in his senior year of high school. He shaves his face every morning, struggles with all of his homework, drinks shitty cheap beer, has a babysitting job, and he owns his fair share of Playboys and watches porn during late nights on the TV in his living room.

And sometimes those images invades his mind when he's sleeping, as is only normal for any typical hormonal 18 year old.

They had been so vivid this morning, only to be interrupted by the blaring of his alarm clock, with no time to fix the situation or he'd be late for class again.

They're there now, halfway through first period and he's sitting with his chin in hand, drooling slightly as he daydreams about things vastly more interesting than algebra.

Soft thighs, exposed tits, plump lips, long hair. It's quite well known that Steve Harrington is easy and frankly a bit loose, but can he truly be blamed for his incessant neediness, when there's a lack of love at home? Who isn't touch starved and constantly seeking heat.

Lesser known fact is how he dreams of things he shouldn't. Hairy pecs, muscular biceps, strong hands, hard cocks.

Girls are nice and gentle and delicate. Laurie, Amy, Becky, Nancy. Pure and kind and good. They smell of flowers, feels like silk, sounds of an angels choir.

But they cannot compare to the way the right guy will reach everywhere. Tommy, Billy. Bending him over, fingers digging inside, stretching him out, slapping into him with such fervor he'll walk funny for nearly a week. Their musky smell, calloused fingers, animalistic grunts.

And it riles him up. Can't help but drift off to think about Billy. Won't even fight it, as he finds himself in Hargrove's bedroom, the place reeking of sweat and cologne and testosterone, Billy standing by his small, cheap bed. Shirtless with the body of a bronze statue, pants unbuckled to expose a blond trail of hair disappearing beneath his tight briefs. A hand caressing the outline of his-

There's a sudden kick to his shin and he's wide awake, still in algebra class, the teacher scribbling away on the blackboard as he drones on about whatever. Steve wipes off the bit of drool that has fallen down his chin and looks to his left to see...

Billy Hargrove, pulling his leg back from having just kicked Steve awake. He's all teeth in a mischievous grin, eyes heavy and intense as he catches sight of amber hues. Quickly he glances down, far down, then up again, as if to gesture for Steve to do the same.

So he does, and oh... He stops moving as if that's any less suspicious than what covering his crotch would have looked like. A bulge in his jeans shows that he's sporting far more than just half a chub, and he can feel his fucking heart beat in his hardened flesh, as he stares straight ahead into the back of the brunette in front.

Perhaps if he thinks really really hard about math and algebra and numbers, he can will it away with a headache borne from straight up confusion as to why x and y matters.

When a paper ball flies in from the east and lands perfectly in the middle of his textbook. He glances shortly over at Billy, who's resting on his hand, blinking slowly and expectantly for Steve to unfold the little crumbled up note.

Steve shifts around uncomfortably, hoping to find a way where his jeans doesn't apply too much unwanted pressure on him. And when he sees what Billy has written down here, his face goes impossibly red with a faster heartbeat.

Need a hand there, pretty boy?

He looks at Billy who has the audacity to wink and stick out just the tip of his tongue. Scribbles out a stern and serious No. then throws it back.

Billy lets out a light huff in disbelief, raises his brows in the same tone, then throws the ball over.

I don't believe you. What were you dreaming about?

And Steve grips his pencil with near breaking force as he considers telling the truth, even though just thinking about admitting to it sends pulses through him. It's been so long...

You.

The way Billy then grins reveals everything he's thinking, and the sight of it only makes the whole situation... harder.

And he brings his pen to paper... and he doesn't stop. Writes and writes and writes till nearly every line is filled out, before tossing it right back with such a masterful flair from basket practice.

Oh yeah? What about? The time in your pool where I proved just how long I can hold my breath?

Steve is quick to throw Billy a rather dangerously wanton glance, and watches how he wags his tongue, then back to the paper.

Or in your living room, where you had been so angry with me at first, for wanting to fuck you right there on a couch that costs more than my fucking car, but you loved every single inch of me. Moaned and cried out as I came inside your tight hole.

He shifts in his seat again and looks around to ensure that no one has noticed how flushed he is, but everyone else here seemed to have dozed off as well.

It's been too long pretty boy. Last time we had any fun was in my bedroom, right? Where you were such a cock hungry slut, spread out on my sheets as I fucked you raw and you complained for days about it, but I know you're just waiting for me to make a move. And maybe I've been teasing you for long enough.

Fuck, would it be too obvious if he decided to run out now? Excuse himself and make a go for the bathroom? Each curve of Billy's meticulous handwriting only making his situation worse, word by word. He can feel how pale eyes stares, and oh he burns under the attention.

Want to feel your ass sucking me in again, clenching so tight around my fat cock baby. I want you all dripping wet and praising my name as I fuck you so good and hard.

And Steve's doe eyes goes impossibly wide at the last line.

Can't wait till after school. Meet me in the janitors closet after class.

Billy is the first to stand when the bell rings out, and he makes sure that Steve catches how he licks his lips, stares intensely, as he struts out of the classroom, winks with a grin before vanishing through the door frame.

Steve is the last to leave, pretending to struggle with getting his books into his bag as everyone else goes without paying him no mind. This has got to be the longest fucking hard-on he's ever had, and it is painful.

When he finally stands up to leave as well, he clings to his backpack as if it's the most precious of his belongings, carrying it low in his arms but in a tight grasp, as he attempts to cover himself up in a less-than-awkward manner, but truly he looks like a moron.

Without ever even thinking about it, he finds his way to the janitors closet, needy and aching for release; to be filled completely and touched finally. Because, as much as it pains him to admit, Billy was right. Steve has just been waiting, patiently so, for the bully to reach for him again and push him around, shove inside.

From the crack in the door, light blooms and illuminates Billy's rather impatient figure that leans against a dirty sink in the darkness of the limited space. But only for as long as it requires to allow Steve through, and once the door is closed they're wrapped up in near pitch black, the only light comes from underneath the door.

But they do not need to see, when they can feel.

Feel firm and rude hands grab on to Steve's gorgeous ass. Feel a moan travel out as bodies collide. Feel teeth bite at his lower lip just to receive an apology by a searing tongue. Feel his chock-full erection grind against where Billy is quick to fill out himself.

If anything, Steve loves how small he feels when he's with Billy. Sure he's taller, with or without the hair all pomp and grand, but the way Billy just manhandles him like he weighs nothing is such an intense thrill that he can't get from being with girls. Tommy has tried, but he's just too soft and caring, and that's dangerous territory.

“Shit, ah- Billy-” Steve fights to keep low, but the way Billy rolls his hips more brutally at his sounds only urges him on. “A-ah fuck!”

“Mmh you're such a fucking pervert, Stevie,” Billy drawls out and scrapes his teeth along Steve's neck, tongue out to taste how his pulse quickens. “Were you really dreaming about me?”

“Y-yes,” his response a whimper, and he pushes Billy away just enough so that he can work at the buttons of his red shirt.

And the bluest eyes to ever exist admires the rushed movement of fingers, stares down and lets Steve do all the work that he's so willing to offer up. Once the last button comes loose, Steve dives right in; wraps his arms around Billy's muscular torso and brings their bodies flush together. He kisses and moans into the heated skin by the crook of Billy's neck, all the while bucking his hips forward to force hardened flesh together. Feels the rough pleasure nearly blind him as he gets lost chasing his high.

Enough soon becomes enough, and Billy growls out, yanks at Steve's hair to bring him away from where he's sucking a bruise mindlessly - too high for his collar to cover it. Branded in a way that might anger Billy, but there's a desire for the attention hickeys bring, for how everyone will stare and wonder.

He doesn't say anything about how badly he wants to fuck Steve right this second, just grabs him by the hips and spins them both around till it's no longer his ass that's getting jabbed at by the sink.

Steve leans back a bit and grabs hard onto the gross edges of metal, as Billy's hands makes short work of his belt and zipper, to allow way for his harsh hand to force its way into boxers wet with pre cum. And Steve takes a sharp inhale and bites down on his puffy lip to keep his voice under control.

“Can't believe how hard and wet you already are, baby,” Billy's own voice a thing of lewd intentions through flashy teeth, and he wraps his fingers around Steve's intense length. “God, you're so fucking hot. Can't wait to feel you stretched out around my cock.”

“Billy...” Steve whines and brings one hand up to pull at Billy's open shirt till their lips meet again in a feverish heat.

His own tongue is quick to surrender and fall into the slippery rhythm that Billy demands, a dance a bit too quick and uncontrollable, but it matches so well with the crazed movement of calloused fingers on sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Steve,” Billy grunts out all impatient. “Turn around.”

And Steve doesn't need to be told twice; the moment that hand is gone from down his tight trunks, he does just that, spins to then bend over, barely catching himself on the sink as Billy shoves him forward. It takes just as short a moment before his pants and briefs pool around his ankles.

The both of them share no more than two things in their lives: ceaseless impatience, and an incessant craving for the other.

“Do you have lube?” Steve asks and twists to look behind, although there's barely a thing to be seen under the cover of darkness.

“Of course, you never know when you'll need to bang a princess real quick between classes,” the grin in his tone so ardently clear, Steve can perfectly imagine what he looks like.

There's a brief rustling as Billy bends down to rummage through his back pack, and next there's a pop, as the lid to the tube flicks open.

Steve breathes something near a moan, as cold, slick fingers run across his outer rim, and his head falls to hang low. Hips move by themselves as they chase that feeling; icky at first but it all ignites something so wonderfully as one digit presses in to the first knuckle.

“Mmh yes, oh...”

“Yeah?” The broad finger moves deeper and deeper.

“A-ah, fuck, yes!” And Steve pushes onto it till there's no more length to swallow.

Billy crooks and curls around inside that velvety heat, one which he has been craving for weeks, and makes a silent promise never to go that long without hearing these noises again. Oh how Steve croons and sings out sweet little things just from one finger.

And oh how his voice increases as a second digit is added all too soon, but he seems just as eager to envelop it just the same. Pleasant little words becomes rough curses and heated pleas. Although unnecessary, Billy squeezes out more lube onto where he's fingering Steve's hole with a rapid speed, and the sounds of it all now an obscene squelching as he thrusts inside. He did say he wanted Steve to be wet.

“Shit baby, listen to that-” He slams his hand harder and works his strong fingers with all his might, coaxing out a dozen little ah's and fuck's. “-you're so fucking wet and dripping, your ass soaked.”

“Billy,” Steve is keen on crying out.

“You think you're ready for my fat cock?”

He nods swiftly. “Yes, please, I need you inside me so bad, fuck.”

Belt unbuckles, zipper runs down, and Billy grunts all too loudly as he strokes himself with even more lube. “Yeah you do,” his voice like tires on gravel; rough and heady. He throws the bottle to the floor and grabs on to Steve's hip to help guide himself blindly through the black void surrounding them.

With no mercy he bottoms out immediately, and Steve loses the ability to breathe at the stretching sensation of a too-unprepared muscle, tears stinging his cheeks, but still he pushes back till he has devoured every single veiny inch.

“I'm-I'm- ah,” he whimpers out, unable to think past where pain and pleasure mixes so deliciously.

Lube tickles as it runs down his thighs, his trembling dick dripping with pre onto the floor, and barely does he get control of his breathing again before Billy pulls out just to snap back in deep.

“Fuh-ck, Billy!”

There's a chuckle to be heard, like thunder from behind sculpted pecs, and he sets a mean rhythm of slowly moving out then shoving back inside, each slap of skin accompanied by a naughty little cry that mixes “Billy Billy Billy” with “shit fuck oh”, bordering on sobs.

“You like that, pretty boy?” Billy grabs on with both hands to ensure every thrust plunges as far as humanly possible into the mess of Steve's clenching ass. “Like feeling my big cock filling you up?”

“Yes, Billy, ahh, f-faster, please,” Steve moans out and tries to move, to increase the frustratingly slow rhythm, but Billy's fingers dig deeper into his flesh with bruising force. He's going to be all kinds of sore tomorrow, but oh how it's worth the pain then.

“Since you asked so nicely...” Billy growls out and thrusts faster, skin slapping together with such salacious sounds as he buries his throbbing erection in Steve's aching flesh.

Steve bites into his worn lip till it cracks and bleeds in his attempt to not make the entire school aware of their situation. His ever so lonesome prick dangles freely, and although he feels a near primal need to jerk himself to a quick finish, he can undoubtedly cum untouched with just the furious tempo of Billy's own lust.

A hand fists around dark locks, and Steve's head gets yanked back to where Billy bends forward to groan hoarsely into his ear, spewing out filth and biting with all too sharp teeth and his lobe.

“God you're doing so fucking good for me, princess,” his voice raw sex and fucked out, “your pretty little ass so tight around me, sucking me in deep, harrh- taking all of my giant cock, yeah?”

Fingers grip harder at the smooth edges of the sink they're bent over, and Steve turns his head to try and find Billy's lips. “Yeah,” he whines.

Billy's scorching hot tongue licks across Steve's bleeding lip before bringing the metallic taste inside, and he moves across familiar slickness and swallows every single sound that cannot be restrained, no matter how hard Steve tries to be quiet.

“Shit, Steve, I'm close,” the hitch in his voice a clear indication of the truth.

“Mmh- me too, ah-”

“Want me to...”

“N-no! I- fuck-” Steve has to pause to fight back a threateningly loud sound as Billy's steely cock hits just right. He raises himself up on his toes and feels the head hit it again and again and again. “Right there! Billy- I-I-I'm gonna...”

He can feel the grin press against his cheek, and the way Billy speaks urges him closer, “That's so hot, pretty boy, you getting off on just my cock alone, like the slut you are.”

It takes no more than that for it all to flow over, and Steve brings up a hand to cover his mouth as he paints the dirty floor in perfect white, the heat gathered between his legs blowing up and coursing through his entire bloodstream as his body tenses, muscles flexes, eyes rolling back to be blinded by fireworks that only Billy knows how to ignite.

And the brute behind him doesn't stop moving; continues slamming inside with the same continued fervor as he stands back upright. The pleasure quickly drains out, leaving Steve behind to become all too over-stimulated by the way Billy continues hitting that bundle of nerves that has already been pressed for all it's worth.

“Fuck, Billy,” Steve complains and his fingers curled around the metal twitches with the discomfort of being used senseless.

“I know, I know, I'm almost- arh-” Billy reaches up to hook his hand on Steve's shoulder for leverage, and it takes him a handful of erratic thrusts before he chokes down a moan, nails digging into supple flesh as he cums, completely submerged in Steve's fluttering hole, hips twitching till there's no more heat trapped inside.

He grabs on to the sink beneath Steve for support, otherwise they'd both undoubtedly fall down together, and he pants for air, laughs a bit too, albeit rather weakly from exhaustion.

Steve is... happy, content, tired, as he bends down to rest his sweaty forehead against his hands. This has been hell, in its own sense, of having spent most of today with a strangled boner, exhausted from too little sleep, and having been fucked till he's near sore in the most unhygienic room of the entire school. Also there's no doubt that his hair is a mess.

And then the bell fucking rings.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Seven / Decaf

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, all of the dirty thoughts because Javi is a horndog, male masturbation... general spice. pining that could make a pine cone tremble.

A/N: welcome to pining central, enjoy your stay :) (ps when Steve says “Javier Peña” I need you to read that in the voice of Anthony Mackie going “SEBASTIAN STAN”)

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ordinary coffee that has had most of its caffeine removed from it before the beans are roasted.

You are a goddamn test on Javier’s self control. He feels like those biblical stories of men fighting back against temptation to prove themselves to God, except the only thing he has to prove is to himself. To you.

He’s always been enraptured by you, captivated by your smile and laugh but since you went ice skating, he hasn’t been able to get your body out of his mind. The way you fell asleep on him last night, nuzzled in like it was the safest place on earth. He could feel your breasts press into his skin, the warmth of your thigh hiked across his abdomen. If the past week has been some caffeine-induced fever dream, it’s becoming real now. You, a figment of his imagination before, maybe, are all flesh and blood and God, is he desperate for it.

Javier hangs around your apartment when you’re gone at work. He doesn’t have much else to do, considering you’re gone and he knows hardly anything about the city. He watches the daytime television on your couch, usually meanders to the coffee shop for a drink, spends some time there, and returns to the apartment.

He feels like he’s couch-surfing, like he did for a summer in his college years. He feels guilty occupying the space in your home, especially without payment. As he walks to the bathroom, he takes a long glance into your bedroom. The queen-sized bed is mussed, unmade before you left for work. The fitted sheet is pooled in the middle beneath where you sleep, the various blankets tossed about. It looks like the coziest damn thing he’s ever seen, especially after a couple of nights on a couch.

Javier almost thinks about giving in, waiting for you to ask him to sleep in your bed tonight then jumping at the chance. Maybe he will, if he’s tired enough. Maybe he won’t, but maybe he will. He can think of nothing better than the endless whir of the radiator as your perpetually-cold body nuzzles against him, brushes your nose against his bare chest.

It’s been a long time since Javi has fucked anyone, and he’s starting to feel it. He’s a little antsy, and the image of your body, your ass as you ice skate past him, haunts him like a bad dream- or rather some illicit fantasy he knows he shouldn’t be having.

Would you want him yet? You’ve told him you love him, but that was an accident. When he kisses you, you kiss back harder. Hell, you initiated the first kiss. You seem like you’ve been all-in on this relationship, taking things at a rushed pace that Javier certainly doesn’t mind. He spends a lot of the day contemplating that, standing on the tiny balcony of your apartment and smoking a couple of cigarettes.

At this point, he needs a distraction or he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. What better to kill the horny buzz making his head spin than to call Murphy?

The phone is in your bedroom, on the nightstand. Javier dares to sit on the edge of your bed, and actually moans aloud at the plush comfort, the way his ass sinks into it. Goddamn, he’ll have to get one of these. He wants nothing more than to lay back and fall into the bed, wait for you to get home and pound you into the comfortable mattress. But he doesn’t. He stays strong and picks up the phone, dialing the new Murphy residence in Miami.

After a couple of rings, a familiar voice answers. “Murphy’s.”

“Hey, bastard,” Javier chuckles, and he can hear the blonde man’s laughter from across the receiver.

“Javier Peña,” Steve drawls, dragging out the name. “Good to hear your voice, man. You finally come out of a ten-day celebratory drunkenness?”

“Don’t talk to me about binges,” Javier teases, but he smiles a little. He’s missed the man. He’s glad neither of them got in any trouble over the entire Los Pepes situation- God, that feels like ages ago now. It’s hard to believe he’s only been in D.C. what, eleven days? If Steve’s math is right, yeah. “No. I’m in D.C. still, if you can believe it. Just… bored.”

“Oh really?” the man scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter in Miami with Olivia on his hip. “And why’s that? What are you still doin’ up there anyway? Thought you were goin’ to visit the old man.”

Javier shakes his head. “Plans changed. There’s, uh… there’s a girl.”

Steve lets out a wolf whistle, laughing. “And how much does she charge a night?”

“Not one of those. She works at a coffee shop around here,” he informs him. “She’s… she’s really something. Nothing I ever thought I’d be into. She’s gorgeous, man, and so energetic all the damn time. Seems like she has an IV of coffee from her shop,” he chuckles, looking off into space. He takes a pause. Steve doesn’t speak. “I wanna be with her Steve. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go back.”

He’s silent a little longer. “This is some kind of practical joke, right?” Steve says after a beat, barely holding back a laugh. Never has Javier been so sincere, so real and honest and open. And more specifically, he’s never been like this over a girl. Almost… mushy. Soft. “Tell me more,” he says, hoping the joke will give up.

Javier talks about you, describing every little detail with a grin on his face. He tells Steve about Tie Guy and ice skating and your piece of shit car, how you can spin in circles on the ice and how you remind him of a busy little bee, fluttering about the coffee shop.

Steve is genuinely rendered speechless; a hard thing to do. He blinks down at Olivia then straight ahead at the refrigerator, covered in photos and magnets and drawings. He can’t imagine Javier ever wanting something like this, like what he and Connie have, but he sure sounds like it. “That’s… something. Good for you, Javi,” Steve chuckles, resigning to sincerity. “I’m happy for you.”

Javier grumbles back. “Don’t get too happy. I have to go back to Calí in three weeks. She doesn’t want me to leave… I don’t know what to do, Murph. I can’t bring her with, you know that, but I can’t just leave her here. And I sure as hell can’t quit.”

“You could quit.”

“I’m not going to, how’s that?” Javier huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed by Steve and his goddamn wording loopholes. “I just… fuck. I’m gonna go think about it before she gets back.”

“She comin’ to your hotel? You sure you aren’t paying per night?” He smirks.

Javier’s quiet and Steve isn’t sure what it means until he talks. “I’m, uh, staying at her place. She insisted.”

Steve whistles again. “Damn. You’re whipped, Peña. Well, I’ll let you go. Call again soon. I miss ya, bud,” he tells Javier in a moment of earnesty then hangs the phone back on the receiver, bringing Olivia to her nursery to change her diaper.

Javi sighs and falls backwards on the bed, admiring the way the mattress holds his body compared to the couch. Yeah, he’ll definitely need to sleep in here tonight or he’s going to crack his spine.

The issue will be you. He could handle it on the couch; it was like a soft, adolescent form of love, innocent and warm. Of course, it could still be the same in your bed. But would it? Is there not a different set of implications that come with the two of you sharing a bed?

Snuggling with you on the couch was nice. Wonderful, perfect even. Javier loves falling asleep with you in his arms. But in your bed, arms curled around him, maybe even being his little spoon… that perfect body pressed flush to his own, your soft ass against his groin, your breathing pushing back into his chest… that would be an entirely different thing. And he wants it, he really does, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He slept like shit the last night, to be honest. You on top of him prevented him from moving, and Javier is an active sleeper. His neck was at an odd angle and his back twisted. His body feels like it did after that fight with Tie Guy. He can’t- wouldn’t- invade your privacy of your bed without you home to give him the go ahead, but he’s so damn tired. Not even the coffee helps.

So Javier indulges in one of life’s little pleasures he rarely gets to experience: a nap. Curled up on his side on the couch, blankets pulled snug around his fetal-positioned body, Javier drifts off to the sound of the noon news on the television.

That’s how you find him when you come home. He’s peacefully asleep, his lips parted and mustache moving with his exhales. Well, he’s clearly alive. That’s good.

You’re not sure how long he’s been asleep, so you leave him, making yourself something to eat in the kitchen. You avoid the living room as you get settled in, changing out of your espresso-stained clothing and into something more comfortable.

When you’re all comfy, makeup removed and a warm sweater on, you sit at the other end of the couch. Javier’s curled into a ball, his feet just inches away from your legs. You hope when he moves, he’ll feel you there and wake. If not, oh well. He deserves the rest.

It’s gray and cloudy outside, and you snuggle into the corner of the couch while reading your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It’s the one you’ve been re-reading recently, what you were reading that first day Javi wandered into your coffee shop and subsequently your life.

Javi wakes not long later, maybe half an hour, to the sound of your book crinkling. The paperback’s spine crunches with wear, and his eyes flutter open to see you tucked against a pillow. God, you look like an angel, the light from the cloudy day filtering in and illuminating you from the back. Your face is calm and peaceful, focused as your eyes trace the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Hi,” Javier mumbles groggily.

Your expression turns to a smile and you set down the book. “Hey.” You take his legs and drape them across your lap, tracing your fingers across them. “How’d you sleep?”

He groans. “Okay. Neck hurts.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just sleep with me,” you sing-song to him, stroking his legs through the comfortable pants he wears. “My bed is super cozy.”

God, does Javier know it. It felt like your love itself when he laid down and the warmth of it swallowed him, practically whole. “Maybe I’ll give in,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was work? Sorry I didn’t visit.”

“Boring as always,” you chuckle. “What did you do today?”

Javi frowns as he thinks about it, his brain fogged with sleep. “Not much. Called Murphy, talked a while. He’s doing good.”

“Good,” you nod and smile. “When will I get to meet this elusive Steve?” You ask, softly kneading at his legs through the blanket and frowning as you realize he’s wearing… jeans. “Wait, pause. Are you seriously wearing jeans?” you ask him and laugh, lifting the blanket to confirm what you already suspected.

He frowns defensively, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

“Why the fuck would you take a nap in jeans, Javi?” You laugh.

Javier looks away, frowning. The stubbornness shows. “I don’t own many comfortable clothes besides what I wear to work, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts, but you can’t help but giggle. “Plus I thought I’d only be here to get fired.”

You smile at him lovingly and cup his face. “You sweet, stupid workaholic. Let’s go shopping later, get you some cozy stuff.”

Javier warms against your touch but maintains a pout. “I like jeans.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a laugh. “Would a pair of sweatpants be detrimental to your wardrobe, Javier?”

“Stop using big words,” he groans. “I’m barely awake.”

-

The large mall is annoying to Javier, full to the brim with last-minute (or maybe prepared, he never holiday-purchases) shoppers. He holds your hand, shooting feisty glares at anyone that dares to bump against his or, god forbid, your side. “Relax,” you tease and squeeze his free hand. The other carries a bag containing two hoodies, three t-shirts, and two pairs of sweatpants. “You’re not on a mission, and you certainly don’t have the knuckles to pitch another fight.”

He looks at his hands and scowls. You’re right. They’re no longer black and blue but faded yellows and greens, a spare bit of purple over the bones. The fight wasn’t that long ago, really, even though it feels like an eternity.

You drag Javier into a favorite shop of yours. He follows you around like a lost puppy while you search through clothes. He even hands you one or two tops he thinks you’d look nice in. You kiss him on the cheek and he dares to smile for a moment before returning to his stone-faced annoyance at such a packed area.

The dressing rooms are nicer, much more spaced out and offering places to rest. Javier sits in a chair across from your little cubby as you try things on. Every time you find something, you come out and model it for him. He comments, always positively, gives a little applause and smiles at the twirl you give in the big trifold mirror.

There’s one pair of leggings that hug your ass tight. Javier nearly salivates at them. “I like those,” he comments. “They look comfortable.” The same follows with a pair of jeans, even more flattering. He crosses his legs and nods, giving you similar comments.

Then come the dresses and tops. They’re all low-cut, not the wintery clothing Javier’s always seen you in. They show off your cleavage, and one scarlet colored blouse with a low neckline and fluffy sleeves makes Javier’s eyes simultaneously light up and darken. “How’s this one?” You ask, tugging at the sleeves.

“How much is it?” He asks, leaning back and looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Uh…” you tell him the cost and look back up at him, expecting a comment. “Why?”

“I’m buying that for you myself,” he smirks up at you, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin feel intensely hot. The sight is stunning to him, and your flustered smile makes the smirk a little more devilish.

Javier does end up buying you the shirt, and you purchase a few other things you liked. But that scarlet shirt is stuck on Javier’s mind in replay: the subtle valley between your tits, how they filled out the shirt just perfectly and tugged at the cloth covering them, the way they look painfully soft to the touch, especially through that soft fabric. He wonders if you were wearing a bra under it. Then he has to stop himself.

You eat dinner late, chatting mindlessly over everything and nothing. Javier has no work to speak of now, so he tells you tall tales of the hunt for Escobar, some exaggerated and some underplayed. He mainly listens to you, asks about your past and your future, your family and your job. He could never tire of your voice, the soothing lull that warms him from the inside out, just like your skin flushed in that goddamn red top.

He drives the both of you home, humming softly to the songs on the radio. He’s beginning to recognize more and more of the top-40 hits on a certain preset station, songs he’d never listen to on his own. He glances over at you, gazing out of the window, and feels his body warm again- not just in his heart, but his stomach and lower too. He dares to steal a glance down, at the soft swell of your tits in that sweater. God, he wants to get you naked.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what you want and he’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to shatter this blissful phase of adoration without the sexual attraction. He wonders if you feel it too, if your clothes suddenly feel too restricting and too warm when you run a hand down his bare back.

The nightly routine ensues: you shower. Javier changes, this time into a new hoodie but leaves his legs bare, wearing only boxers on the bottom. He waits on the couch, and when you exit the bathroom, he takes his turn. He returns and sits next to you on the couch.

Tonight, when you ask him to share your bed with you, he doesn’t say no. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything, just yawns softly and stands, taking your hand.

It’s a sacred space, your bed. Javier knows it. He rarely fucks women in his; whether it’s for his own privacy or fear they’ll fall asleep there, he can’t say. But your bed is such an intimate expression of you, and he can see it. He can see the divot in the mattress where you sleep, the way you arrange the pillows just right for your own head. It is a queen size, but it’s single-occupancy: until now, that is, and Javier feels honored you’re willing to share this holiness with him.

He gets into the bed on the other side of you, the warm blankets enveloping him, and he nearly lets out a moan at the comfort. Compared to the hotel bed and the couch, this is sleeping on a literal cloud from the heavens. He lies still, waiting to see what you do first. Not wanting to overstep anything.

His prayers are answered when you snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest, kissing his sternum through the soft material of the hoodie. A hand rests on the other side of your face, and your legs both encircle one of his. Javier smiles, wrapping an arm around you. He presses a kiss into your hair and murmurs a goodnight, letting his head fall back. He has no time to worry about this situation before he falls asleep.

He falls asleep almost immediately, which makes you chuckle through your half-conscious state. He seems to always radiate heat, Javier. Your layers of blankets upon blankets suddenly feel unnecessary when a heat source the strength of the summer sun fills your bed. His chest is strong and firm beneath you. The rise and fall of his chest is like a boat rocking on the ocean, putting you at ease and allowing you to rest.

-

Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do this?

The clock reads 1:48 and Javier is wide awake, staring at your popcorn-stucco-whatever the fuck it is ceiling. He wasn’t able to process this before sleep overtook him, before his consciousness was wiped and with it, his inhibitions.

Your body is pressed to his so perfectly. You sleep without a bra, and Javier can feel his arm being slightly sandwiched between your breasts, the way they press further into it every time you inhale. Your thighs are warm with sleep, and he can feel your core pressed against his hip, even while you sleep and even through the layers of clothing.

Javier feels like the embodiment of slime. You’re asleep and all he can think about is how fucking hot your body is, how much he wants to press you into this mattress and wake you with an orgasm. He wants to palm your tits and make your nipples harden through that flimsy shirt, to slide his fingers beneath your pajama bottoms and-

He can’t take it. He feels so wrong, the smell of you surrounding him and choking him like a thick perfume, even in its subtlety. He does not deserve to sleep next to you, innocently, like someone you love, when all he can think about is his own carnal desires.

Pushing back the covers, Javier gets out of bed before any more blood can flow to his slowly hardening dick. This is all wrong. He should not be doing this, thinking these things without knowing you feel the same.

But the guilt is as strong as his arousal. He watches you for a moment, torn between his options, before meandering through the darkened bedroom and finding his way into the bathroom. He turns on the bright lights and forces himself to stare at the bulbs, to make his pupils shrink from their blown state of sleep mixed with desperation. He’s fully awake now.

He needs to get the hardened length down. He can’t do this, can’t allow himself this suffering while you sleep in the next room.

The sink. Cold water. He gasps silently at the splash of the ice-cold water against his face, dampening the edges of his hoodie. It doesn’t work enough. Again. Nothing. He feels like a teenager, unable to control himself. The cold water is a good idea, though.

Javier strips down, trying to avoid the urge to take himself in hand and fix this here and now. Turning the water as cold as it can go, Javier turns on the shower and steps in.

Agony is the best term he has. It makes him want to squeal like a fucking pig as he shudders from the cold. It doesn’t work to force his erection down, but what use is it when it’s not something physical but mental stimulating him? The cold shock didn’t do shit. Javier’s still achingly hard. He turns the water warmer and sighs as it gradually turns to a tolerable temperature, one that he can relax under and allow himself to let out a deep sigh.

He has no other options, unless he wants to wait it out. Leaning against the wall, Javier strokes himself, biting his lip and hoping the water pressure will cancel any soft moans he can’t avoid. It doesn’t take long when he’s this aroused, when he knows exactly what the fantasy in his head would feel like.

Javier is panting and sweating, from the effort and the growing heat of the water. He feels disgusting but it feels so good, and he can’t help imagining you doing this to him, you spreading your legs and feeding the fire between his own.

It only takes a few minutes. He gasps as he cums, with a force he’s never brought forth with his own hand. He bites his lip so hard he’s sure he might cut it off, not allowing the desperate sounds to reach a level you could hear. When he’s done, he groans and cracks his neck. “Oh, little bee,” he whispers, agonized as he lets the water wash the evidence of his sins down the drain.

When he’s done, Javier walks into your bedroom, silently, in the dark. His previous boxers were stained with a patch of his precum; he can’t put those back on. He drops the towel and puts on different boxers.

After he’s changed, he looks at your bed longingly for a moment. The soft sheets, soft mattress, the soft body between them. But in Javier’s head, he’s forsaken his right to the warmth, the comfort.

When you wake in the morning, hours after you thought you heard the shower running, you find Javier is not in your bed. There isn’t even a warm spot where he lay, just your body shifted further from your normal sleeping position. When you wander out to make your morning coffee, you find him. He spent the night on the couch again.

-

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[mirrorforevers]

graham/reader • and i love him

hmmmmmm so

i wrote a lil smutty n angsty gra/fem!reader fic set in the late 90s and im kinda proud of it ‼️

👉🏼 👈🏼 

this is my first work for the blur fandom and im Nervous bc i haven’t been writing for a while and english is not my first language but hope u guys enjoy it anyway - if you enjoy it enough i’ll post it on ao3 too, aight? also this hasn’t been beta’ed by anyone so yeah. also feel free to send me a message if u want to beta it in case you wanna see it there. aaaaaaaaa

tw: alcoholism

You haven't been sleeping very well these days.

Any noise, no matter how insignificant, would wake you up. When there weren't noises, there were nightmares that you were losing him - those were the worst nights. Many times you woke up crying because everything was so real, and you couldn't have peace even in your moment of rest.

Sometimes it was difficult to love him.

The memories of the long lazy days you spent watching TV, painting each other's backs and tasting all sorts of bizarre treats he brought from the different countries he travelled to with his band were gradually replaced by memories of corrosive words exchanged between the two of you and moments where either you or he ended up crying in each other's arms - out of shame, out of despair, out of frustration. But that didn't mean that you were loving him any less, just that your individual tribulations sometimes got too heavy even to share.

You knew he was going through a very difficult time, but he didn't open up to you very much about it and it frustrated you on a level that you could barely describe. Being in a serious relationship was something so new to you, and it helped you so much in your bad times, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't trust you like you trusted him. "It's not that I don't trust you, you're the most important person in the world to me," he'd typically say. "It's such a terrible feeling, and I just want it to go away. I don't even like to talk about it."

This is the same thing he says to you with teary eyes as the hot water in the shower wets your skin and his. For the third time that week, you had to help him, without even having the opportunity to take your own clothes off, to take off his clothes that smelled unbearably of alcohol and sweat and to take a shower. You no longer had the strength to argue or lecture him, and your silence of resignation somehow seemed to hurt him even more. He tried to bring up other subjects and remind you of good things, and your throat seemed to close more and more. Before your eyes could also fill with tears, you just left a small, shaky "Gra, please... let's just get this over with." escape from your lips. He got the message, maybe. And he agreed to have his hair washed in silence.

After you help him dry off and choose clean underwear, sleep got the best of him and then it was your turn to take a shower and try to sleep. You swore he was asleep a long time ago, when, just before you fell asleep, you heard an almost whispered, fragile "I love you" coming from the other side of the bed. It somehow hurt you more than it should - it's been so long since you've wanted to hear it from the man you truly know - a sober Graham, a little unsure of himself but a guy with such a full and gentle heart. You knew that his problem with drinking was not just the search for overcoming that insecurity, but a constant attempt to escape from the reality that, years before, he thought he wanted to be part of. And as for that, there was not much for you to do. But you still missed it so much in another context, in what now seems to be an eternity ago.

By some miracle, you did not wake up in the middle of the night due to some noise caused by Graham or due to some nightmare, but only in the morning thanks to the sunlight illuminating your face. But Graham was no longer on your side, and you closed your eyes, sighing. Another long day without him among thousands of rehearsals and concerts and meetings and photoshoots he had to attend, which anticipated yet another long night of ill-resolved fights.

"I'm terribly sorry for fucking up again." And then you opened your eyes. There he was, now with a shirt over the underwear you chose for him, his voice as low as ever. Without his glasses.

Finally, the Graham you knew. Your eyes light up and you move to get up from the comfortable bed you shared when he interrupts you. "No, stay right there."

"I've been missing you." You say with an almost whiny voice, a faint but genuine smile taking over your expressions. "Don't you have *anything* to do today?" You ask, as he pulls out a camera to photograph you in your current position - messy hair, while wearing only his t-shirt. You don't hide from the clicks. After being satisfied with the result, he positions himself between your legs, and you spend a few minutes in silence in that position, face to face, just reading each other's expressions so closely.

It was very difficult not to love the beautiful boy in front of you.

"I do." And with that, he places a very soft and loving kiss on your lips, which slowly incorporates the latent desire burning on both of you. It's so good not to taste the alcohol, just the mouthwash with the touch of a cigarette that he just smoked. He only stops after a few more long pecks, calmly brushing away some of the strands of hair off your face, "I'm sorry for being such a cunt. Things are being very difficult for me lately."

You look away from him so you don't cry. This subject really breaks your heart. "Things are very difficult for me too."

He calmly brings your face up to look at him again. "They don't have to be. I don't want to make you go through this. I swear I will try to get help."

This is not the first time he has said this. But you pretend to believe him. And this time, you start the kiss, a little more fervently than before. Perhaps this is a silent agreement between you two. You feel something slowly grow beneath you, and you move against the feeling, making you both gasp softly in the middle of the kiss. The lips part, and then he looks into your eyes deeply again, both foreheads touching - as he silently asks you for permission to make it up to you. You just nod between heavy shared breaths. He goes to kiss you intensely, albeit very lovingly, while slowly lowering his hand to your clit, where he begins a slow circular movement. You close your eyes, and he pleads, quietly – “Keep looking at me, love”.

Gradually, you start to grind harder against his talented fingers, and when he realizes that your body is prepared enough (and quickly expresses it to you - "fuck, you really missed me", making your cheeks burn), he inserts two fingers into you, while insisting on the circular movements that delighted you so much. You're having goosebumps and you slowly feel that delicious wave of heat build up in you as he continues with his movements. You surprise him by kissing his neck slowly between timid but sincere moans that gradually escape from you. His voice trembles with arousal. "This is all about you, love. But that's quite nice." When he feels your body stiffen, and hears your moans become more urgent, he stops his movements and gives you a kiss on the cheek that borders on mockery, giving a small laugh with your grunt of protest. He mutters a small "Be patient baby, please. Come on my mouth instead.". Graham's hoarse voice in your ear almost kills you. He raises the hand that was stimulating you in an absurd way seconds before to lift and remove your shirt, basking in the sight of your breasts - hands sliding down your sides, he lifts your chest to his mouth, which makes you happy but it does not meet 100% of your needs. He knows that. And he wants to take his sweet time while his talented tongue takes turns between each of your breasts for a while, eliciting smaller moans from you but still giving you so much pleasure.

Honestly, what a view. His big brown eyes, when not closed due to his determination and focus on making you feel good, sometimes fixes on yours and the cloud of attraction between you two almost becomes tangible. Then, he quickly lifts up to give your mouth a sensuous kiss while his hand then makes its way down your body, taking a detour at your already sensible breasts to grab one and give it a slow squeeze. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you." His pure adoration for you drips from his voice, and you feel like you're about to burst from how much in love and horny you are.

"I love you too."

He gives you that goddamn smile that melts you every time before he lowers himself again, this time placing his head between your thighs while snaking his arms above them, trapping you in what is about to be a hell of a great time. He begins on an exploratory pace, then gradually starts eating you out with passion, though not forgetting to be gentle enough so he doesn't hurt you or seems inexperienced. That he *really* isn't.

He moans deliciously on your clit the moment your grip on his hair tightens - he loves it when you're rougher with him, a sub at heart, really, though he's undoubtedly getting better at dealing with your more submissive side lately. Your body is reacting in the prettiest ways, and he recognizes it's the time for his fingers to be inside of you again. You have to contain yourself not to wake up your neighbors with the sound of your excitement, and you bite your finger. You can't help but buck your hips in response to the stimulation. “Gra–God. I--I need to--”

“Keep still, darling. I know what you need,” His eyes are gleaming with mischief when one of his hands moves to rest on your waist so he can hold you in place. It's too much, and when he hears your quiet pleas and sees your back arching and the frozen expression of pure pleasure in your face, he intensifies his movements and you freeze - your legs twitch and he lets you ride your orgasm freely on his gorgeous, hungry mouth.

You looked down to see his chin was resting on your stomach as he gazed up at you with *that* infatuated look that suited him so well along with the cheekiest smile - he keeps his thoughts to himself before his suggestion makes your satisfied smile grow even wider: "Let's spend the day together. I still feel like I owe a lot to you.".

[365days365movies]

March 15, 2021: Clash of the Titans (1981) (Part One)

This one’s personal…sort of.

Other than the fact that this is based on Greek mythology (previously well-established as one of my favorite subjects), this movie is, in a way, responsible for my existence. And that is because, according to legend, this is the film that my parents went to on their first date. And apparently, it went very well, because I came into being 10 years afterwards. So, yeah, this film is personal, like Dirty Dancing.

And also like Dirty Dancing, I HAVEN’T SEEN IT? I don’t know HOW I escaped seeing this movie. And that’s especially considering that I’ve seen the new one. And that movie was...not great.

Maybe not the worst film I’ve ever seen, but it’s definitely not a good movie. But OK, what’s this one about, exactly? Y’all ready for “The 365 Greek Mythology Hour” again? OK, then, here we go. SING IT LADIES

Clash of the Titans concerns the myth of Perseus, one of the greatest Greek heroes ever. Before Heracles, there was Perseus, son of Zeus. Yeah, Zeus, as he is wont to do, came down to Earth and had some good time with the princess of Argos, the beautiful Danaë. He came upon her while she was locked in a box by her dad, Acrisus, king of Argos.

Yeah, the Oracle at Delphi, ever the wisest, was visited by Acrisus one day, who wanted a son instead of a daughter. The Oracle spoke with Apollo (AKA huffed some of that SWEET SWEET ETHYLENE GAS), and told him that his daughter’s son would kill him. And so, he did the most logical thing: he locked her in a box. Yup. Dick. SPEAKING of dick, Zeus appeared to her in the open box as a golden shower. NOT THAT KIND OF GOLDEN SHOWER. I mean a literal shower of gold. Although...I wouldn’t put it past Zeus, of all gods. Dude was kinky.

So, Perseus is conceived, and Acrisus responds to this with his usual tact; he stuffs Danaë into a SMALLER box, and shoves it out to sea. She gives birth to a boy in the box, and the two eventually wash up on the shore of an island, where a fisherman finds them and takes them in. The boy is named Perseus.

Years go by, and Perseus’ mom is sought by his adoptive dad’s brother, and the king of the island, Polydectes. Polydectes is kind of a dick, and Perseus, now an adult man, doesn’t like him. The feeling’s mutual, and Polydectes has a plan. He holds a banquet, and forces all invited to bring a gift of horses. Perseus, being pretty poor, cannot bring this gift, but promises on his honor to bring whatever Polydectes wants of him, no matter what. And Polydectes asks for the head of Medusa.

Fuck.

Medusa’s one of your classic Greek monsters, a Gorgon. She’s one of Athena’s victims, formerly a vain temple priestess who was, well...raped by Poseidon, let’s be honest. However, since Athena’s priestesses were meant to be celibate, she was the one who ended up being punished. Fuckin’ YIKES. But OK, literal ancient gender politics aside, Athena cursed her with snakes for hair, and the ability to turn her victims into stone with a gaze into her eyes. Classic. And sure death for anyone who went after her.

So, Perseus is fucked. He’s gotta kill Medusa, and he doesn’t even have a way to get to her place. And that’s when he gets a favor from none other than Athena, goddess of wisdom and wartime strategy, as well as Perseus’ half-sister. I love Athena (other than the Medusa bullshit, obviously), and this is one of her most prominent roles in mythology. Well, that and the creation of spiders. That was also punishing a woman for her vanity, by the way. She has a type.

First, Perseus was told to find the Hesperides, nymphs of the dusk and dawn who would give him weapons. He got their location from the Greae, more colloquially known as the Gray Sisters. Weirdly enough, you may know them from Hercules, where they were combined with the Fates. They don’t have the future gimmick, but they do have that whole “sharing an eye” thing. Also, they share a tooth. Neat.

Anyway, Perseus takes their eye hostage, which makes them tell him where the Hesperides are. He goes to them, and they give him a bag to hold Meduga’s head. Then, the gods step in. Zeus decides to be a good dad for a change, and gives him an indestructible sword, and Hades’ Helmet of Invisibility. Hermes, another of Perseus’ half-brothers, gives him a pair of winged sandals to fly with. And Athena, technically Perseus’ patron, gives him a mirrored shield.

Perseus heads to the cave of Medusa, uses the shield, then goes up to her and cuts off her head. From her neck, for some goddamn reason, and golden sword pops out, alongside this guy.

Yeah, he’s not made out of clouds. He’s actually the, uh...he’s the result of Poseidon’s crime against Medusa. Fucked up, innit? Pegasus flies up to hang out with Bellerophon to kill the Chimera, and Perseus heads back to...actually, he goes to ANOTHER king who was a dick to him, and turns him into stone with Medusa’s head. Kings hate Perseus, seriously.

Perseus heads home after that, and goes through Ethiopia. There, he meets the King and Queen, Cepheus and Cassiopeia. Cassie’s gorgeous, but she tells Perseus that her daughter Andromeda is, like, WAY hotter, as beautiful as the sea goddesses. Which PISSES OFF POSEIDON (who is basically the villain of Perseus’ story, let’s be honest), and he send a sea monster named Cetus to destroy the kingdom, UNLESS they sacrifice Andromeda to it. And, because kings are assholes in this story, they do, chaining Andromeda to a rock. But, because Perseus believes that all women are queens, he goes to rescue her, and kills Cetus using all of his things. He weds Andromeda, and turns his romantic rival Phineus into stone using Medusa’s head.

Usually, that’s where retellings end, because there’s a recurring trend to Perseus’ story after that. A king is an asshole, Perseus whips out the head, asshole becomes statue of an asshole. However, there is that prophecy to contend with, about Perseus killing his grandfather. See, Acrisus basically retired by this point, and lived in the kingdom of Thessaly. But one day, he went to see some games, in which Perseus was competing in the discus. Well, wouldn’t you know it, Perseus isn’t great at it, and loses control of the discus, which hits Acrisus, killing him instantly.

Utimate frisbee, man. It’s dangerous.

There’s another version where Perseus uses Medusa’s head to turn his dad into stone, surprise surfuckingprise there. But yeah, after that the story varies. Sometimes he becomes a king, sometimes he doesn’t. He basically always marries Andromeda and has kids with her. Sometimes he founds a city of his own, sometime he doesn’t. And in one ending, where he’s lived to be an old king, he fulfills his ultimate destiny and turns Medusa’s head on himself. Geez.

So, yeah, there you go. That’s the story of Perseus. Let’s, uh...let’s see what the movie does, huh? This is another Ray Harryhausen joint, so I’m...tentatively excited for it. We’ll see how badly they mess up the myth, and whether or not it works despite that. So, ENOUGH of me lecturing you guys, huh?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin approximately where most iterations do: King Acrisius (Donald Houston) has just cast his daughter Danae (Vida Taylor) and grandson Perseus into the ocean, containing them within a wooden chest in order to “forgive his daughter’s crimes”. Yeah, sure, OK, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

This also pisses off Zeus (Laurence Mother Fucking Olivier), who consorts with the rest of the Olympians on what to do to Acrisus. Said Olympians include Hera (Claire Bloom), goddess of marriage and women; Thetis (Maggie Mother Fucking Smith), goddess of the sea and leader of the Nereids; Athena (Susan Fleetwood), goddess of wisdom and strategic victory; Aphrodite (Ursula Andress), goddess of love; and Poseidon (Jack Gwillim), god of the sea.

Hera tries to defend Acrisus, noting his prior years of devotion to Zeus and the other gods. But Zeus ain’t HAVING that shit, and tells Poseidon to destroy the city of Argos in revenge. This is to be done by...releasing the last of the Titans? Which is apparently the Kraken. I mean...no, a thousand times no, but whatever.

This little tantrum is Zeus’ way of showing his love towards Danae, whose child Perseus is his. This is helpfully pointed out by Thetis, who seems...a little spiteful, as much as Hera is about Perseus. Seems like she’s stoking some fires. Hmm. She is Queen of the Nerieds, so she may play a larger role later on.

Beneath the sea, Poseidon readies himself to set loose the Kraken and destroy Argos, at Zeus’ command. Zeus, meanwhile, kills Acrisus by using a clay voodoo doll of sorts to strike him down. And that’s when Poseidon lets loose the Kraken for the first time. And the Kraken...

Guys, the Kraken looks...actually, I’ll spoil his appearance later on. The Kraken destroys the city, and Zeus kills Acrisius. So much for the goddamn prophecy that explains why Acrisius did what he did, but fuck me, I guess. Danae and Perseus, meanwhile, have safely arrived on the shores of the island of Seriphus, at Zeus’ insistence. There, Perseus grows from child into a fine young man, with Zeus always watching over him...and with Thetis and company always watching over Zeus. Interesting.

The adult Perseus (Harry Hamlin) lives happily on the island, much to Perseus’ delight. Thetis, on the other hand, asks about her mortal son, a young man named Calibos (Neil McCarthy). Apparently, Calibos is a bit of a monster, and while he’d been set to wed the princess Andromeda, he’s also managed to kil all living things on the island that he’s been given, save for a single winged horse named Pegasus. Hence...he is to be punished.

Calibos, by the way? Entirely original creation of the film, and there’s nobody like him in Greek mythology. Anyway, Thetis is crushed by this, and decides to exact revenge of both Perseus and her son’s would-be fiancee, Andromeda. She pledges to open up Perseus’ eyes to grim reality, and does so by placing him in the kingdom of Joppa, where Calibos was originally set to rule alongside Andromeda.

Here, in an amphitheatre, he encounters a mysterious masked and robed figure, who quickly reveals themselves to be Ammon (Burgess Meredith), a poet and playwright. Apparently, Ammon wears his disguise to scare off trespassers. He tells Perseus that all of Joppa is in a tizzy about a curse of some kind, and that the story of the fallen kingdom of Argos is a famous legend.

Ammon tells Perseus to go back home to Seriphus, but Perseus tells Ammon that he’s promised to restore his mother’s old kingdom, and decides that Joppa would be a good start. Despite his drive, though, Zeus is pissed off at Thetis for plopping Perseus down unprepared. He tells the other goddesses to give him gifts to help him claim the kingdom of Joppa as his own. This includes a helmet from Athena, a sword from Aphrodite, and a shield from Hera. I mean...OK, that’s super goddamn weird, but OK.

After Zeus leaves, the goddesses rightfully complain about Zeus’ constant womanizing, but note that he probably doesn’t remember Danae at this point, is is most likely acting out of stubborn pride for his “handsome son”. Their words, not mine.

In Joppa, Perseus finds the gifts by the statues of their grantors. The sword from Aphrodite is adamantine, like the original myth, and slices through marble without a blemish. The shield from Hera...talks. Yeah. The shield bears the visage of Zeus, who tells him that the weapons are gifts from the gods, and that the helmet from Athena turns the wearer invisible. I mean, fuck Hades, I guess, but OK. Technically Athena did give the helmet to Perseus, so OK.

Armed with his new gear, an invisible Perseus immediately takes off to see Joppa, sans his sword. We only see his footsteps in the sand as he leaves, which is legitimately a VERY neat effect, and I’m not sure how they did it, but it’s neat as hell. Off to Joppa, a vaguely Phoenician/Persian kingdom, despite the fact that the original Joppa, or Jaffa, is a port city in Israel.

There, he meets a soldier, Thallo (Tim Pigott-Smith), who tells him of the situation. Since Calibos fell to Zeus’ wrath, Andromeda rejected him, allowing any suitor to try for her hand, whether they be royal or not. To do so, they must answer a riddle. If they fail to answer, the would-be suitor is burned to death. This is lorded over by Queen Cassiopeia (Sian Phillips), while Andromeda (Judi Bowker) lives in the tower of the palace.

Which is why Perseus IMEDIATELY uses the helmet to go into her room that night! CLASSY, PERSEUS. There, he sees...a giant vulture bring a cage to Andromeda’s balcony. No idea where in the fuck this is going, but that’s a damn good looking vulture. God, I love Harryhausen.

Anyway, the vulture is here for Andromeda’s soul, which leaves her body and goes to sit in the cage. The vulture takes off with it, al as the invisible Perseus watches on. He takes this opportunity to touch Andromeda’s face in her sleep (stop, Perseus, for the love of Zeus), then decides that winning Andromeda is his destiny. And so, his simpin’ journey begins.

The next day, Perseus asks Ammon how they can follow the vulture, who has apparently headed to the marshes to the “marsh lord”. To follow the vulture, Ammon suggests that they find and capture the last of the winged horses, known as Pegasus. And we’ve officially lost the track of Greek mythology at this point. Shit.

Well, with Ammon’s help, Perseus captures Pegasus and rides him through the skies. Meanwhile, in Corinth, some dude named Bellerophon is just having a stroke, I guess, because he’s totally fucked now. Whatever. The next day, the vulture comes back to Andromeda’s place and takes her soul to the marsh. But this time, Perseus and Pegasus follow them.

In the marsh, the marsh-lord and riddle-maker is revealed as Calibos, who is still in love with the beautiful Andromeda. As she cannot love him, he provides to her another riddle to give her would-be suitors. In tears, she memorizes the riddle and its answer, Calibos touches her uncomfortably, even as Andromeda asks him to lift his curse and show pity. But he refuses, in pain from his love. Jesus, this movie should be called Clash of the Simps, goddamn.

Perseus was watching the whole thing, though, which Calibos immediately figures out when he sees Perseus’ footsteps in the dirt. As Perseus goes through the swamp looking for Pegasus, he’s found and attacked by Calibos. Calibos, by the way, is a guy in pretty solid makeup in close-up shots, and a Harryhausen model in far-away shots.

The two struggle, the helmet is lost in the swamp, and Perseus draws his sword. But we suddenly cut away to see the daily ritual of the presentation for Andromeda’s would-be suitors. Perseus steps in, having survived the attack from last night, and offers his hand to Andromeda, who recognizes Perseus from a dream. She gives the riddle, which is ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT. Here, I’ll prove it.

In my mind’s eye, I see three circles joined in priceless harmony. Two, full as the moon; one, hollow as a crown. Two from the sea, five fathoms down. One from the Earth, deep under the ground. What is it?

Any guesses? Anybody?

NO MATTER WHAT YOU FAIL. Because the answer is Calibos’ ring! HOW IN THE SHIT WOULD ANYBODY HAVE GUESSED THAT? It’s a golden ring with two pearls on it! WHO KNOWS THAT SHIT? I call complete bullshit, and the only reason that Perseus knows it is because he spied on this last night! Also, because he cut off Calibos’ hand, and made him renounce his curse, which is...never really specified, now that I think about it.

With that, Perseus has both Andromeda’s and Calibos’ hands! HA! Calibos is not as amused, as he preys to his other Thetis, at a temple of hers. He demands that Thetis take revenge on those whom Perseus loves, specifically Andromeda and the city of Joppa itself. He demands justice, but Thetis identifies this correctly as revenge. All the while, Perseus declares his love for Andromeda, and they seal their union with a kiss and ritual.

During this ritual, in which Andromeda and Perseus are essentially married, Queen Cassiopeia, LIKE A DUMBASS, says that Andromeda is more beautiful than the goddess Thetis herself. Yeah. BAD FUCKING MOVE, especially because she said that IN FRONT OF THETIS’ FUCKING SANCTUARY. At least that dumbass move was kept from the original story.

Well, Thetis tells Cassie that she can only atone for her stupidity in one way: sacrifice your daughter to the Kraken in 30 days. Later on, Perseus speaks with Ammon to figure out how they can defeat the Kraken. Ammon suggests speaking with the “Stygian Witches”, who I’m assuming are our Grey Sisters for the night. However, according to Thallo, they have a taste for human flesh. Still, Perseus is going, as are Ammon, Thallo, and Andromeda. But not Pegasus.

Well...shit, man. That changes a few things, huh? But that’ll be addressed...IN PART TWO! See you there!