#it's just about asking the right questions

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

���I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.2k (10k+ including kofi/patreon exclusive drabble)

a/n: the teaser for this got way more attention than i was expecting lol i hope u guys enjoy the final product!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better at the time.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

The position made it so that Jungkook was technically sitting behind you. Since you were on Mingyu's lap and sitting sideways on the couch, you were now being sandwiched by both boys. Jungkook still kept a small distance, making you have to turn around in Mingyu's hold to look at him.

While you probably embodied the image of a deer caught in headlights, Mingyu seemed completely relaxed, hands still comfortably on your waist.

"I was actually just catching Y/N up," said Mingyu, an overly cocky tone in his voice as his hands continued to feel up and down your waist.

"Oh? Without me?", chuckled Jungkook, leaning a bit closer.

"What the hell is happening?"

"How much did you tell her?", Jungkook ignored you, staring directly at Mingyu. His eyes would occasionally trail down to Mingyu's hands on your waist, a sour look overtaking his face.

It seemed like you had missed a few chapters in the friendship; there was some unspoken agreement between the two in which you were the main character. While it bothered you to think that they'd discussed you in private, the enigma of it all also excited you. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the way in which Mingyu's entire demeanor had become possessive when you brought up dating. The reason didn't matter when you were already beginning to heat up.

"Just caught her up a little on the, uh, situation," said Mingyu with an unrecognizable glint in his eyes, "Did you know she was thinking about dating?", he asked Jungkook, ignoring your presence while still having his hands on you.

Mingyu's hand had made it under your shirt by now, feeling the warm skin of your back.

"Oh? Since when?", he finally turned to you, scooting up a tiny bit more.

Due to his new proximity, you turned your head around, facing Mingyu again. That proved to be a mistake, as Mingyu was even closer to you. Jungkook also took advantage of this, braving a few more inches in closeness and letting his face come closer to your neck. He pushed your hair aside for better access, simply breathing against you as he awaited your answer.

Responding was the hardest thing in the world. Your mind was simply not working at the moment, the situation being far too intimate for you to fully function. On one side you had the huge hunk of a man that was Mingyu, warm hands against the bare skin of your back all while you sat on his leg. On the other, you had the gorgeous embodiment of a boyfriend that was Jungkook, whose fingers were now slowly running up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake while he nosed at your neck.

You had your two gorgeous best friends giving you the best type of attention all while your brain fizzled with your tipsiness.

"Answer him, baby," murmured Gyu.

"I- I just," you sighed when Jungkook began leaving feather-light kisses on your neck, "just thought about maybe getting b-back in the market? To meet someone and-"

"But you have us?", Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, seemingly unable to understand the platonic nature behind your friendship.

"That's what I said!", added Mingyu.

"But I want a boyfriend, n-not-"

"Boyfriend? Baby ...", Jungkook disconnected from you, grabbing your head to make you twist your neck in order to look at him, "That's just an upgrade. You want a boyfriend? We'll give you two. You don't need to be looking around for some loser," his eyes gradually lowered to your lips as he spoke, breath heavy against them.

"K-Kook, I-"

"Please say yes? Please just ... Let me show you? We can show you together. Right, Gyu?", he murmured, mere inches away from your mouth.

Before you knew it, you were nodding, far too desperate to voice your desire.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had thought of kissing Jungkook before. Being one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen before, it was hard at first to keep your relationship with him fully platonic, having had to beat down a small crush you had developed on him at an earlier age. His kiss, however, was not something you could've ever predicted.

Even with the awkward angle, and Mingyu's hands still on you, Jungkook gave you the dizziest of kisses. He knew how to get you hooked immediately, starting with a heavy kiss that had you chasing him the moment he pulled away. With a quiet and breathy laugh, he kissed you again, languid and wet in the way his tongue snuck between your lips, seamlessly making its way into your mouth to play with yours.

Shamelessly, you moaned against his lips, hands digging into Mingyu's shoulders as he continued to hold you. The slight awkwardness of making out with Jungkook while giving your back to Mingyu, yet still holding onto him, was present in your mind. However, Jungkook's sensual yet playful way of kissing you took up most of your attention.

But you knew Mingyu to be a whiny mess of a man at times, so you knew it wouldn't be long before he attempted to regain your attention. The evidence was in the way he felt you up all throughout, hands on your breasts as he pinched at your nipples through your shirt, groaning at the feeling of your tits in his hands. Occasionally, his hands would go down to your cunt, ghosting the place where you needed the most attention before making their way back up to your chest.

Pulling you away by the waist, you were forced to separate from Jungkook, eyes still closed as your lips chased his own. This time Jungkook's lips also attempted to regain possession over yours, with his tongue catching a few last nasty licks of your own.

"It's my turn," grumbled Mingyu, making you turn back to him, "You're on my lap but kiss him only? Baby, we're supposed to share you!", he pouted.

Giggling, you got even closer to him, cradling his head in your hands as you lightly pulled at his hair.

You turned to Jungkook one quick last time, "Kookie?"

His eyes lit up at your question, giving you a view of his round eyes as he gave you his full attention.

"Scoot closer, yeah? Put your hands around me," you encouraged him, humming in contentment when he went above and beyond and began to kiss your neck in the process.

Turning back to Mingyu, there was still an ever-so-present pout on his features, making you giggle again before finally kissing his lips.

Now, Mingyu's kiss was completely different from that of Jungkook's.

You had known Mingyu for as much time as you had Jungkook. He had a bit of a reputation when you had first met, being known as a guy who would occasionally sleep around with other idols, and sometimes staff. Now at 26, he had been retired from that era of his life for a while, but you'd be lying if you didn't say he always made you wonder. He always had all the girls swooning, instantly falling in love with his outgoing persona and his incomparable charisma. His looks also did not help matters. Being so handsome and likable, you occasionally fell victim to his charms, sometimes needing to snap yourself out of R rated thoughts you'd have about him on nights you were feeling particularly lonely.

His kiss felt exactly the way he looked. It was rich and insanely hot. Mingyu made love to your mouth, using his tongue in ways you didn't know a man could. He was domineering in the way he kissed you, with a firm hand on your jaw so he could position you in a way that allowed him to kiss you just the way he liked. And he liked it nasty. He liked it wet and filthy and in a way that made you sure you'd cum if he kissed you for a little too long.

You could barely catch up to the situation, having one gorgeous man fucking your mouth with his tongue while the other suckled at the most sensitive spots of your neck. In the meantime, your cunt was gushing with essence, already so extremely wet you were beginning to squirm in Mingyu's hold.

You attempted to pull away once, only to be enticed into kissing Mingyu again as he groaned against you, tongue seducing yours once more. You attempted to pull away twice, having his arms wrap tighter around you. The third time is when you finally succeeded, whining against Mingyu's mouth that you needed more. This caused yet another groan to come out of Mingyu, only to be echoed by Jungkook's own groan against your neck.

They both disconnected from you, looking to each other in a decisive manner, almost as if to formulate a game plan.

"I want her first," said Jungkook, slapping Mingyu's hands away from you and attempting to move you onto his lap.

Mingyu stopped him, holding you tighter against him as he rebutted, "You? She's already on my lap. I should have her first."

"Dude, I'm about to blow up. Just let me fuck her and then you can have her while I recover," be argued, hands fighting Mingyu's off of you.

"Why can't I choose?", you butt in, annoyed.

Their demeanors swiftly changed at your interruption, both pairs of hands now touching either your waist or thighs in an intimate yet caring manner.

"What do you want, pretty? My cock? Hmm?", asked Mingyu with a sweet voice in an attempt to convince you. Meanwhile, Jungkook wordlessly kissed at your neck again, nibbling at your ear and smirking at how you shuddered at the feeling.

"I-", you were already lightheaded again, "I wanna suck your dick, Gyu. Want Kookie to fuck me while I suck your dick," you murmured, hand holding Jungkook's head against your neck to keep his kisses coming.

Mingyu groaned at this, nodding absentmindedly. He began to shift, attempting to get up in order to get himself ready for you, but you stopped him.

"Undress me? Both of you?", you asked in the softest voice you could muster. You wanted both their hands on you at once, feeling your nude body for the first time. You knew their desire for you was already clouding their minds, so you wanted to do everything in your power to relish in every single touch, every look filled with lust they would give you.

Without another word, both boys got up, standing you up with them. Their hands were messy and uncoordinated as they got every garment off you, feeling you up in the process. Your breasts were groped and fondled multiple times in the process, while Jungkook pressed your ass up against him any chance he could, groaning at the slight stimulation.

Finally undressed, you decided to turn around once more, facing Jungkook as you kissed him with no warning. You smirked into his mouth when you felt Mingyu grab you from behind and press your ass up against him, grinding slowly against you. You knew it wasn't enough to get him anywhere, but you enjoyed knowing he was needy enough to use you in such a fruitless way just for a little stimulation.

Meanwhile, your hands went straight to Jungkook's oversized top, hands sneaking underneath to feel up his muscular form, hands harshly rubbing on his strong chest. It seemed Jungkook was overly sensitive to your touch. He whined needy breaths into your mouth as you felt him up. Taking off his shirt, you moaned as you saw the gorgeous figure of your best friend.

God, he was the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. You couldn't wait until you saw the rest of his pretty body, sculpted by the endless hours of work you knew he always put into the gym. The endless hours in which you had accompanied him to said gym, always having to look away before you started to have inpure thoughts of your best friend.

He helped you in the removing of his pants and boxers, throwing his head back when your hands immediately went to find his cock and play with it. Burying his head in your neck, he groaned against your skin, whining at the feeling of your hands finally wrapped around him after having wanted you for so long.

Behind you, you heard shuffling, assuming Mingyu to have been removing his own clothes as he waited for his turn of your attention to come. You felt badly at leaving him hanging for too long, knowing him to have an overly impatient disposition when he didn't receive attention for extended periods of time.

Playing with Jungkook's cock just for a little longer, you gave him one last kiss before turning around and trapping Mingyu in his own kiss. Unlike with Jungkook, you didn't linger long, opting instead to push him down the large conversation pit – thank god for Jungkook's insanely big mansion – located just a few steps away from the couch where it had all begun. This way you could have all the space you wanted to play with your friends.

Now lying down, Mingyu looked you up and down like you were his next prey, licking his lips at the sight and motioning at you to come sit on him despite knowing that you wanted something else.

"C'mon, baby. Ditch him. Don't you want me instead?," he leaned upwards to try and convince you of sitting on him.

It was hard to deny him with his cock staring up at you in such a challenging manner. He was equally as gorgeous as your other bestie, but in so many different ways. Mingyu was so big and thick and buff, he had you salivating at the mere sight of him. He was so toned yet so thick, and his dick matched perfectly. God, the thought of that monster inside you had your eyes rolling back already. Did he really mean it when he said he'd be yours? That he and Jungkook would share you? The idea of a boyfriend sounded stupid in retrospect.

Despite all your better judgment telling you to jump Mingyu and let him impale you with his cock right then and there, you knew that starting off with Jungkook would give you a better buildup. You also knew that based on Jungkook's competitive personality, he'd become even whinier than Mingyu if you didn't let him take care of you first.

Fully determined, you turned back to Jungkook, who had been standing there in a trance, now having a better view of your body and keeping his eyes religiously glued to it. You grabbed onto him and walked yourself back to the large conversation pit, eyes glued to Jungkook's in a seductive manner as you guided him to the area in which Mingyu was already lying down. In only a few seconds, you let go of Jungkook and positioned yourself in front of Mingyu at an eye level with his cock while he sat up and looked down at you with a pained look in his eyes. In all fours, your back faced Jungkook, hinting at him to get behind you so that you could finally get back to business.

With a groan, Jungkook knelt behind you, needy hands feeling the curve of your back as he pushed you up against him. In the meantime, you began softly playing with Mingyu's cock, making him throw his head back at finally receiving some attention where he'd been craving it for so long.

"You're so pretty, fuck ... No one deserves you, baby. Too fucking pretty n perfect n fuck ... Can I fuck you now, pretty? Hmm? Let me have this pretty pussy while you suck off your bestie," rambled Jungkook from behind you, head lowered so he could kiss at your hips.

You whined and pushed up your ass against him, giving him the green light to do whatever he wanted, when suddenly he stopped.

"Fuck, wait. Condom?", he asked, making Mingyu groan, as you were about to engulf him in your mouth but also halted your movements to tend to Jungkook's question.

"It's okay, Kookie. The company put me on some new birth control. You can fuck me raw," you smirked up at Mingyu, giggling at yet another groan of his.

"He gets you raw? Baby, I'm the one who started all this! How's that fair?", he huffed.

Taking a quick separation from Jungkook, you gestured for Mingyu to lean down so he could meet you halfway. With a wet kiss, you made your way to his ear and whispered against it.

"I'm saving you for last, baby. Gonna ride you til I cry ... Now be good and cum in my mouth?"

He groaned so loudly his entire body vibrated under you as you crawled your way back to your previous position. Jungkook simply laughed at the interaction.

Feeling you up once more, Jungkook finally grabbed onto his cock and lined himself up, groaning at the gushing wetness that coated his cock as he entered you. Your own moan was masked by Mingyu's cock, which you were currently working into your mouth.

"Oh, fuck ... It's so tight, baby ... It's so fuckin' warm n tight n so pretty, baby. Such a pretty cunt," babbled Jungkook, immediately pussydrunk.

Could he be blamed? He had wanted you for years. From the moment he met you, he cursed at himself for being so damn shy and initiating a friendship with you rather than showing you his interest. His members constantly teased him over it, even so many years into his crush. When he first found out Mingyu also had similar ideas in mind, he felt conflicted. But he ultimately grew close enough to the two of you to the point where he wouldn't mind sharing you with his bestest of friends.

Your muffled moans completely took him out of it, taking away any ability to think or speak. He simply chased after you with his hips, canting them against your own as you pushed back against him.

"Is it good, pretty? Like my cock?" he winced at the way you tightened any time he'd speak to you.

"So good, Kookie. So big ...," you pulled away from Mingyu to breathe before going back to licking and sucking at his tip, moaning against him as his eyes rolled back.

You were practically centipede in Jungkook's living room, with Mingyu lying on his back as you gagged on his cock and Jungkook pounding into you from behind. All your senses were overtaken by the mindless quest for pleasure you had all taken on.

"You're so good with your mouth, pretty ... Fuck, look so pretty stuffed of cock," Mingyu gasped, throwing his head back, "Like how he fucks you, baby? Just wait til I get to you ... Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so good ..."

You moaned against his cock, already thirsty for him even as Jungkook continued to ram into you. Pushing your ass back against him, you felt Jungkook's nails dig into the skin of your hips, adoring how malleable you were for him.

"Baby ... 'm gonna cum soon ... Feels so fucking good, pretty. You're so fucking g-good for me. Wanted you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea ..." murmured Jungkook as he entered his high, hips lacking any control in their movements.

Jungkook had always been the most sensible of the bunch, never holding back from expressing how strongly he felt for the people in his life. The pleasure must've been so much that it made him unfiltered in revealing the undeniable effect you had on him.

"W-where do I cum? Fuck, gonna fucking cum, it's so good, baby. Take it so good for me, shit ..."

You were too busy gagging on cock to respond right away, so you had to take a minute to pull away and catch your breath, replacing your mouth with your hand while also holding yourself up with the other one.

"Inside? Cum inside, Kookie. I'll- I'll cum too," you were breathless, barely able to get the words out as a petulant Mingyu whined at you to help him finish, hands going behind your head and lightly encouraging you to get your mouth back on him.

"Inside? Fuck, okay, baby. Gonna fill you up, yeah?", he groaned, muttering to himself right afterwards, "Fucking finally ..."

His hips sped up drastically as his high approached, making you choke around Mingyu not just due to his girth, but due to the intense ramming against your ass. Though harsh and with an unmatchable energy, you continued to try and push your hips back toward his own, wanting to milk him dry as your own high invaded your senses.

His desperation for you made you feel so incredibly good, like you were the prettiest girl to ever exist. It made you arch your back a little deeper, take a little more of Gyu's cock, dig your nails a little harsher into the cushion of the conversation pit. You heightened all your actions just to feel him a little more.

And then it reached its crescendo. All while Jungkook whimpered and cried at how sensitive he felt at your tightening walls, Mingyu also found his own high. You were too distracted with your own orgasm to acknowledge him asking you for permission to cum in your mouth, instead suctioning more intensely to wordlessly give him an enthusiastic yes, please fill up my mouth with your cum.

By the time Mingyu filled up your mouth, Jungkook had already finished his high, now kneeling behind you as he peppered kisses all over your back and hips, whispering against you how good you had been for him and how pretty you looked with his cum leaking out of you. Fully drunk on the aftermath of his high, Jungkook loved on you like any lover would.

In the meantime, you attempted to swallow every bit of Mingyu's essence, moaning against his cock afterwards as you licked at every lone drop that made it out of your mouth.

By the end of it, you were all completely spent. Each of you dropped one by one, with Jungkook lying on his back as he caught his breath, you falling onto Mingyu, and Mingyu attempting to pull you up to climb his body so that he could kiss you again.

With the very little energy you had regained, you crawled up Mingyu's body, making out with him as he attempted to lick his way into your mouth in order to taste himself in your mouth. Kissing evolved into feeling each other up, which then became grinding your now sensitive pelvises against each other. Surprisingly, Mingyu was still half-hard, which gave you the perfect surface to grind your cunt into. He sat up, making you sit up with him before beginning to leave kisses on the side of your neck.

"Baby? Gonna ride me like you said, right? Just .. Fuck, want that pretty pussy, baby. It's my turn to have that tiny little cunt wrapped around me, yeah?", he murmured between kisses.

You gave in to him easily, gasping at every word that accompanied every kiss.

Nodding mindlessly, you almost forgot to think back to Jungkook, who was probably still recovering from his orgasm.

"W-what about Kookie?," you mumbled when Mingyu began positioning you above his cock.

"Don't worry about me, pretty. Just enjoying the view", you turned back to see Jungkook lying back on his elbows, one hand on his semi-flacid cock as he began to work himself up at the sight of you sitting on your best friend.

Well, that worked well enough for you.

"Now pay attention to me, princess. Been ignoring me all day today," Mingyu grabbed onto your chin to make you look at him, thumb softly rubbing at your chin as he tilted your head back.

You were insanely wet by now, not only from your orgasm but also from just Mingyu's mere presence. Knowing how intense and touchy Mingyu always was in PG scenarios, you couldn't help your eyes rolling back at the thought of him between the sheets. His heavy cock on your tongue had been enough of a taste to know how good it'd feel when finally inside you.

His strong hands lifted you up a bit, rescuing his dick from under you as he helped you position it under you, holding tightly onto your hips when you began to lower yourself down. You would've moaned and whined at the immense stretch, but Mingyu had different plans for your mouth. His thick fingers slipped into your mouth, making you gag a bit before you began sucking on them.

Too many things were on your mind, with all your senses being invaded by Mingyu – though also accompanied by Jungkook's low moans of pleasure behind you. Even as your body was bouncing against Mingyu's, attempting to match his thrusts, your head was completely empty of any thought. All you could think about was Mingyu, and his cock, and his fingers, and his pretty body, and and and-

"Feel good, princess? Love my cock, hmm? Tell me how much you like my cock, angel," he groaned as he took his fingers out of your mouth, using the wet fingertips to tweak at your nipple as his mouth engulfed the opposite one.

"So much ... It's so big. Fuck, Gyu, you're s-so big ..."

Barely able to formulate words, you cried as Mingyu helped you bounce on him, occasionally opting to grind in a way that made your clit get the perfect stimulation. It all felt too good. Mingyu's gigantic hands on your body while his lips suckled on your tits as Jungkook groaned so prettily behind you. You were far too sensitive and alert to hold back from the life-altering orgasm that was to come. So, you voiced this concern to Mingyu.

His response came in the form of flipping you around and trapping you underneath him. His big hands held onto your waist, lifting you a bit so he could angle himself just right. Eyes rolling back and nails digging onto the bed, you lost yourself in him. Jungkook seemed to be completely lost to pleasure also. You could finally see him after Mingyu flipped you over, and fuck ... He looked so desperate, so depraved in the way he hammered into his cock, mouth permanently agape as he let out little praises to you.

"I need you to cum for me, okay, princess? Show Jungkook how good I make you feel. Need you to milk me dry, yeah? Can you do that for me?", he dumbly talked down at you with a tone that could only be seen as patronizing in any other context. But here, you loved it. You loved how dumbly he treated you. Because it was true. You could not think, you could not speak. Your senses were all gone and replaced by a constant stream of cock cock cock as Mingyu finally made you reach your orgasm.

Mingyu played with you through the entirety of your orgasm, rubbing at your clit with one hand while holding you with the other, his lips constantly attached to your tits.

"G-gyu, I- fuck! C-cumming! Please, I-" you had no idea what you were begging for as your orgasm completely took over, making you tighten around Mingyu as he mumbled into your chest, letting you know of his own impending high.

Despite having already had an equally fulfilling orgasm, this second one brought out a new sensitivity in you. Falling under Mingyu, you whimpered at the way he flipped you over again to lay on his chest, caressing your back and pressed you up against him, even more when Jungkook laid beside you and softly ran his hands through your hair.

The three of you laid there together, with you halfway laying on Mingyu while Jungkook laid on the opposite side of you, cuddling into you. Behind you, you could feel Jungkook's flacid member, meaning he had also reached a second high along with you and Mingyu. Lying there together, completely sober now, you eventually let sleep take over you, nuzzling into both boys in a satisfied manner.

A few days passed by since your encounter with the 97s. They were pretty eventful as far as your job went, attending a few photoshoots and practicing constantly for whatever new activity was coming up for your group. However, things between you and your friends had remained stagnant. You didn't think they had ghosted you or anything like that, but the timing of your busy schedules picking up right after breaking your platonic relationship did make you anxious.

When you'd woken up that next day, Mingyu was gone, having left one of the packs of ramen cooked and ready for you with a note attached detailing how much he enjoyed last night, saying he had wanted to stay and say goodbye but had a a schedule that had been calling for him. It was signed with his name and a little heart.

Jungkook had been half-awake already, having carried you to his bed when he had woken up, right after Mingyu's departure. You had wanted to talk about last night, but also had a schedule over at the company, so you left after cuddling with a sleepy Jungkook for a short while, not really discussing anything, yet sharing a sweet kiss as a goodbye for the day.

And so you hadn't really seen them since then. It was the unfortunate reality of idol life. That night had been the first in a few weeks in which you'd even been able to see each other. You were unsure when the next one would come, but you needed it to be soon. The remembrance of that night kept messing with your head, especially any time you'd see either of your friends in passing at the Hybe building, never being free long enough for a worthy interaction.

On the fourth night since the incident, you finally had more time off for yourself, hoping maybe they did too. Mingyu got ahead of you in that aspect, texting you the previous night, somehow aware of your time off, and asking you over. There was no deeper interpretation to be had in his message, as it was pretty straightforward. Nervous as to whether to expect a repeat of last time or a conversation about it, you let him know you'd be there.

Jungkook and Mingyu had always been closer to each other than to you. Going out together was always easier for them since no scandalous rumors would arise from it. They were also often in the same friend groups, knowing more male idols than you did due to the nature of the industry. It was easy for you to assume that they had already spoken about what had happened, even before it happened. Throughout the night, they kept referencing some type of agreement they'd had regarding you and dating. It was hard to assume, but you wondered if they meant sharing you – as strange as it sounded.

Your questions would only be answered tonight, leading you to some anxiety before finally arriving to Mingyu's.

~

"I missed you," were Mingyu's first words when he welcomed you, trapping you in a warm hug as he usually did. Hugging Mingyu was, in your opinion, one of your life's greatest privileges. He was so big and strong, it always felt like being completely engulfed in the safest of spaces.

His hug was followed by one of Jungkook's, less tight in nature but just as rewarding. He held onto your waist and nuzzled against you, always attempting to bury himself in whoever he held in his arms.

Quietly, they guided you to Mingyu's living room, slightly smaller than Jungkook's but still very much reminiscent of a millionaire's home.

You looked over to the coffee table, tilting your head in confusion at the presence of cans of diet soda rather than the usual alcohol Mingyu would always provide. Sensing your confusion, Mingyu chuckled.

"No alcohol today. Thought you might wanna talk about what happened," he sat down on the couch, patting the empty space next to him so you'd join him. Behind to you, Jungkook joined, sitting on a lone seat facing you and Mingyu. No matter where you looked, the two boys would be in front of you.

"We've been keeping you in the dark, huh?," pondered Jungkook, handing you a freshly opened can of soda, "Sorry about that. No easy way to tell your best friend you're into her."

Oh. He was going straight to the point.

"I like you, if that wasn't clear already," he let out a breathless chuckle, attempting to hold eye contact but failing.

He was much better at this when he was working his way into your pants.

"And so do I," interrupted Mingyu.

Wait.

"Are you-"

"We both like you."

"I- Have you talked about this?"

"Uh, it's come up, yeah," Mingyu scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't really know what to say ..."

"We just ... You had fun the other night, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, it was great," you took a breath, "but we're friends. Right?"

You weren't sure if you were being rational or not. Did you like Mingyu and Jungkook? Sure. But together? At the same time? You had never considered such type of relationship.

"We- we don't have to be just friends," added Jungkook, not much confidence in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, "We like you, and we know that you like us back. Maybe not in the same way, but you do. That night would've gone very differently if you didn't."

You could've lied. You could've lied and left it off as an amazing one night stand with your two best friends. But the thought of never feeling what you felt that night ever again was not something you wanted to risk. It wasn't just about the pleasure. You had meant what you said that night; you wanted a stable relationship. You wanted someone to call a best friend, but be more than that. Someone to hold you at night. The three of you had always been glued by the hip, but you had never really thought of what it'd be like to take the next step – to have them be that person (or those people).

There were just too many questions in your head. Would this change your relationship negatively? Would they actually want to share you? Would this go anywhere?

You opted for answering Jungkook's question with another question.

"Are you okay with both of you liking me?"

They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu ultimately answered.

"We've discussed it," he started, "When we first realized we both liked you, it did cause some tension. But the closer we got to you, the more we realized that we just wanted to be with you. Whether as friends or as more, we just wanted you."

You gulped at the confession, feeling your face heating up all of the sudden.

"I- I don't know what to say, I- I like you too. Both of you. I always thought that it was just as friends, but ... there'd be moments where I'd wonder. And after that night, I just-"

Jungkook leaned forwards, grabbing onto your hands. He smiled, ignoring most of your words and paying attention to what he cared about the most – you liked him.

"You like me back? Us? Do you- We could treat you so right. I- I've wanted you since we met. I've liked you for so long and ... Not just for sex. We could be more," his words were slightly frantic in nature, almost as if he wanted to sell something to you.

He didn't need any selling. You liked him. It became more and more glaring by the minute.

"Nothing has to change. We've been friends for this long. Just ... That guy you're looking for? To settle down with? That could be us," added Mingyu, placing a palm on your thigh for reassurance.

"What happens if I say yes?"

Mingyu's eyes grew dark.

"Do you want the PG version?"

You shook your head, mouth agape as you looked to Mingyu.

His face lit up as he leaned closer and closer to you, lips approaching the sensitive spots he had discovered on your neck just a few days ago. Stopping for just one moment, he looked to Jungkook to gesture he sit opposite of you, making you become sandwiched by both men yet again.

Now with both boys kissing down your neck, you allowed your head to rest against the back of the couch, attempting to fight the shudders escaping your body at the sensation.

"As our girlfriend ... we'd take you on dates," Mingyu sucked at a particularly sensitive spot, licking at it afterwards, "buy you pretty gifts, keep you warm at night," he took a pause, licking up the length of your neck, "take care of you every day."

Jungkook continued from where Mingyu left off, leaving soft whispers of kisses under your ear, "We share you. We take you home, cook for you, protect you," he nipped at your lobe, "We love you like no one else could ever imagine."

By now, you were gone. Through their whispered promises, their hands had decided to intrude your space yet again. Jungkook's had found a home between your legs, running up your skirt and gracing at your cunt, but only enough to have you puffing out breaths of desire. Mingyu's had migrated upwards, lowering the straps of your dress and liberating your breasts, hands needy as they pulled and tweaked at your nipples.

"What do you say, princess?", Mingyu pulled away, lips reaching your own, "Wanna have two boyfriends?", he pecked at your lips sensually.

"Mhmm ...", you nodded pathetically, not trusting your voice.

Jungkook groaned at your answer, hand finally slipping inside your panties, "Good girl ..."

"Fuck, gonna treat you so good, gorgeous," said Mingyu, continuing to kiss at your lips tongue seeking your own.

His lips trailed down to your breasts, sensually licking at your nipples, gradually giving them more and more attention. By the end of it, you were crying at the sensitivity.

Jungkook continued to play with your cunt, driving his fingers through your folds at a rhythmic pace that made your hips take a mind of their own, grinding upwards with a complete lack of coordination.

You were so focused on Jungkook's fingers that you didn't notice Mingyu making his way down your body, now kneeling between your legs as his lips made their way up your thighs, marking them to his heart's contentment.

"So fucking pretty ... Been wanting your pretty thighs around my head for years, princess ...", he mumbled to himself, nosing his way towards your cunt. When he finally arrived, he nudged Jungkook's finger's away, sticking his nose against your cunt as he took a shameless whiff of your scent, groaning gruttaly against you.

"So good ... Fuck, need this pretty cunt so bad. Can I have it, baby? Hmm? Let me have a taste of this pretty pussy?" he asked between depraved licks of your cunt through your panties.

Hiccuping back a sob, you nodded, opening your legs wider as you took a hold of Jungkook's hand for support.

Needing no further confirmation, Mingyu went straight into your cunt, ignoring the obstacle of your panties by pushing them aside. In the meantime, Jungkook's hand went to your chin, turning your whiny lips to his own and giving you a languid kiss. His tongue played with your own, taking advantage of your constant cries of pleasure to suck at your tongue and bite your lips as much as he desired.

Your hands went from holding onto Jungkook for support to his pants, undoing the drawstring as he continued to kiss you. With shaky hands, you snuck your hands in, pulling out his hardened cock as you began to jerk it in your hand. Now you were even; equally pathetic cries being released into each other's mouths as you both chased your highs.

Beneath you, you almost missed the way Mingyu's hips began humping against the couch, groans being released into your cunt due to the stimulation. You were far too distraed by kissing Jungkook, but Mingyu's eyes were rolled all the way back as his hips became uncontrollable, cumming in his boxers just moments before he licked you to completion.

Even as you came, Mingyu's lips didn't leave your cunt, just as yours stayed on Jungkook's. The room was a mess of wet sounds of tongues as Mingyu finally separated himself from you to take a breath.

"Prettiest fucking cunt," he mumbled to himself as he let himself lay on the floor of his living room in exhaustion.

"C-cum! 'm gonna cum ...", Jungkook managed to mumble against your lips, attempting to pull back but being enticed by your lips to continue kissing. Your hands sped up at his warning, warning his pretty seed to coat your hands as he reached his nirvana.

With a last groan, Jungkook froze against you while riding his high, hips pathetic in their movements against your hand. Bringing up your hand to your lips, you made a show of licking the remnants of cum, grinning when you beard a unison of groans from both boys.

Out of breath, Jungkook leaned against you, cuddling into you with a satisfied yet smile.

"So, was that a yes?"

Mingyu made his way to the couch again, taking up the last bit of personal space you had.

You chuckled.

"Yes. That was a yes."

to read short 2.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, oral (f receiving), jerking off, cucking, penetrative sex, reunion sex, etc.

wc: 296 (teaser); 2770 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Fuck, missed you so much. You have no idea," whispered Jungkook against your neck.

After having cornered you in one of Hybe's many endless hallways, Jungkook had grabbed you by the hand and led you to an empty changing room, pushing you up against the door and burying his face in your neck. It was mostly innocent, sans the feathery kisses down your neck. His hands were still in appropriate places.

"I was only gone for a month," you giggled against him.

"A month too long. Do you know how annoying Mingyu gets when you're not around? Jesus Christ," he groaned in mock annoyance, refusing to separate from your neck.

Breathing you in, he hummed, arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you.

"Where is he, by the way?"

"What, not enough attention from one of your boyfriends?", he softly bit at your neck in defiance, licking at the mark he left when you jumped in surprise.

"No! Just ... Missed seeing you two together."

After only a month of entering a romantic relationship, you were embarrassed to admit, but you had become quite needy, always wanting them around. This had led to a few problems within your company, which was blissfully unaware of your three-way relationship, but still had to deal with how much closer you had gotten – especially in public. There had been a few more rumors as of late, though none actually traced back to anything credible.

"He's at the gym. Should be here any minute, though, since he knows you're back."

"Hmm," you hummed, disconnecting him from your neck despite his complaints, "Wanna start without him?" you grinned.

With a boyish nod and a peak of his bunny teeth, the pretty boy agreed, dragging you over to one of the empty couches in the room.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

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[tender-rosiey]

plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾

robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna

sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.

it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.

in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.

so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.

uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.

the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.

he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.

considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.

so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.

so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.

he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.

perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.

that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.

and no one knows about that door except—

“y/n.”

you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.

you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”

keyword: try.

he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”

he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”

your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.

you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.

sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”

he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.

you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.

and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?

he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”

you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, but he also wants to know what’s wrong.

if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.

his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.

“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.

“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.

he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—

—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”

he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.

so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”

after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”

you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”

“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”

a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”

you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.

you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”

a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from you husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.

sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”

“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”

he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.

you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”

you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”

he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”

you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”

“good,” he smirks.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis @hearts4itoshi @sleepyxxhead @dunixxd @sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08 @spacebaby1 @arabellatreaty @viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe

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[ode2rin]

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!” 

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

[barcaatthemoon]

should be me || leah williamson x reader ||

leah gets jealous when the team tease you about the obvious thing going on between you and rachel daly.

you sat silently in your cubby, ignoring the looks of your teammates. this game against aston villa wasn't overly important, no more than any others you'd played this season. still, you were incredibly nervous about it. your captains were all picking up on it, but they had different approaches for trying to help you.

leah tried to comfort you the best that she could, but it was little more than an awkward shoulder pat and reassuring comment. kim was much more motherly in her attempts to calm you down a bit. however, it was unfortunately katie who was the most effective with her knowing and teasing comments.

"are you excited to see your little girlfriend?" katie asked as she nudged you with her elbow. both you and leah snapped your heads towards katie to glare at her. leah's glare was all anger, but yours was annoyance. "she's been asking a lot about you. i think you've really got a chance."

"whatever," you huffed. truthfully, you would have been more than happy going out with rachel. however, there was a slight problem. she wasn't leah. nobody else was leah, and that was why all of your dates led to absolutely nothing. you wanted to be with leah, but leah didn't want to be with you.

"seriously, she's interested," katie told you.

"drop it mccabe," leah grumbled. katie put her hands up in surrender, muttering about how she only wanted to help her friends. katie didn't understand why leah always got so upset whenever arsenal played aston villa. leah and rachel were friends, at least they were until the teams met up. leah was friendlier with her national teammates who played for chelsea than she was with rachel. "you good?"

"i'm fine leah," you promised her. she smiled as she ruffled your hair a bit. you groaned as you tried to fix your hair again. you were just finishing up whenever kim called everybody to huddle up for a quick pre-game pep talk. you knew that arsenal had this game in the bag, but you still appreciated the little boost to everybody's confidence.

"quick hug before we become sworn enemies?" rachel asked. you hadn't expected to see her waiting for you as the team shuffled out of the locker room. admittedly, you had been a bit eager as you launched yourself into her arms. behind you, leah scoffed as she walked past the two of you. "i'd tell you good luck, but my mates would kill me."

"we don't need it anyway." you gave rachel a cheeky smile before you joined your team. the girls all started to tease you a bit as you found your mascot and spot in line. you knew that you had done it to yourself, but their words still made your cheeks burn bright red with embarrassment.

…

arsenal's win over aston villa was unsurprising. you hadn't scored any goals, but your two assists brought you all the pride you could handle. usually, you found yourself right by leah's side after games like this, but katie was excitedly pushing you away from the team. you were about to question her whenever she directed you towards a downtrodden rachel daly.

"go on, give her something to smile about," katie told you. she gave you a good shove, which leah missed. all the blonde saw was you walking over and sitting next to rachel. the two of you sat on the pitch for nearly 10 minutes together before you got up to take a shower.

you liked longer showers, but a good amount of the hot water had been used up. you walked back into the locker room to the stares of your teammates. this time, instead of katie starting the teasing, it was steph and caitlin. even kim joined in, which was when leah finally lost her cool.

"for the love of god, will you lot stop talking about rachel? i am sick and tired of hearing her name! we get it, she's into (y/n) and maybe (y/n)'s into her too!" leah shouted. you flinched as she stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her.

"what the hell was that about?" katie asked as she glanced over towards you. in all honesty, you had no idea what leah was on about. she had never been a big fan of the jokes, but it had never seemed like something that would result in such an outburst.

"(y/n), honey, i think you should talk to leah," kim told you. she placed her hand on the small of your back as she guided you onto your feet. you didn't know why, but you were incredibly nervous as you looked for leah. she wasn't mad at you, but there was a chance that she'd blow up on you too. you didn't want to smother her, but the team had decided that you were the best person to find out what was wrong.

"leah?" you called out as you found her in an empty trainer's room. "can i sit with you?"

"surprised you're not off comforting your little girlfriend," leah grumbled. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you stared at her. at the look of confusion on your face, leah suddenly felt a bit guilty. it wasn't you who had been making all the jokes after all. if anything, you were the most innocent in the whole situation. you didn't seem to understand the situation, unlike kim and alessia, who definitely knew all about leah's feelings.

"i don't have a girlfriend. rachel and i are just friends, leah. we grew up in the same neighborhood, we're like sisters," you told her. leah had heard it a million times before, just like most of the team had. "why does it bother you so much whenever they talk about rachel? you two are friends."

"it's not just rachel, it's you and rachel that bother me. this is embarrassing to say out loud, but i get jealous," leah admitted. you didn't understand what leah could possibly have to be jealous about. the two of you weren't dating, and even if you had been, you never ever would have hooked up with rachel. you meant it whenever you said that she was like your sister.

"i'm not yours, so why are you so jealous?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice. leah caught onto it, and instead of getting defensive, she decided to play along. if you wanted her to stop, you were more than comfortable telling her so.

"because maybe, i think that you should be mine," leah said. she grabbed onto your jaw and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your lips.

"don't play with me like this," you warned her.

"i'm not playing love," leah told you. you swallowed as your eyes flicked down to her lips. leah caught your gaze and took the hint. she didn't waste any time in teasing you, opting to press her lips against yours instead. you kissed leah back, opening your mouth just enough for the tip of her tongue to dip into your mouth. leah's hands moved to the back of your head as she pulled you even closer.

"take me home." you had been reluctant to break the kiss, but if things had gone any further, you wouldn't have been able to stop yourself. leah seemed to understand that, sighing as she got off of the table.

"not tonight, not yet. i want to do better than that for you. i'll pick you up tomorrow morning for coffee and breakfast. we can see how things go from there, okay?" leah offered.

"i never thought i'd see the day leah williamson turned away such a willing bedmate," you teased.

"trust me, it's not easy by any means, but you deserve better," leah said. you pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks before you leaned in for a final one to her lips. this kiss was softer and sweeter than the one you had just shared, neither one of you pressing too far in any direction. "i'll miss you."

"i never thought you could be such a sap, it's cute."

[arieslost]

ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

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[erwinsvow]

introducing... bitchy reader!

rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.

so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.

you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.

“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”

“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”

“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.

“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth. 

you nearly sound like rafe.

“that is so rude-”

“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”

“what truth?” his sister questions.

“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”

rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter. 

“hey! i’m not bored-”

“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”

“he has other hobbies! like-”

“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”

“shut up.”

“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing. 

“i’m not gonna change my mind-”

“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.

“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”

“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”

“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.

“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.

“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.

“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.

“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”

blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.

“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.

“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”

“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.

“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.

“no. no, i-”

“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”

“hey, kid, i-”

“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.

“so have you?” you pause, turning again.

“have i what?” “made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”

“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.

“that’s not an answer.”

“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.

“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.

“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.

rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.

[hotchfiles]

— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.

normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”

“answer the question, please.”

“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.

“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

“that’s not what i said–”

“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”

“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”

he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”

“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

lower blow.

hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

damn you for choosing wine.

hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

“just shut up and take your pants off.”

“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”

it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.

you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

“aaron?”

“yes, sweetheart?”

“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”

“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”

“bite me.”

“gladly.”

[flickering-chandelier]

I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing

Work Count: 5.2k

You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”

Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.

You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.

“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 

“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”

Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 

Azriel arched a brow in question. 

“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”

Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”

He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”

You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 

Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 

“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 

He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 

You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.

---

A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.

Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”

“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”

The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”

That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”

You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”

He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.

“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 

He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 

Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.

Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.

---

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 

It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 

“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 

His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.

Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 

Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.

Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 

Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”

Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”

“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”

Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”

Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”

“Maybe you should.”

Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 

---

It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.

Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 

It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.

You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 

Cauldron, you were doomed. 

“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Nowhere,” you lied.

She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 

“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 

“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”

Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”

You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.

You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”

Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”

“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”

Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”

You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”

“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”

---

Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.

“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 

It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 

You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 

---

“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.

He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”

You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.

Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”

“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.

What the hell. 

Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?

He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?

It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 

And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?

His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?

It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 

Did he feel the same way?

He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 

Maybe he should be with you. 

He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.

Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.

You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.

“Az?” You asked.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 

You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

You had a long night ahead of you.

---

It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.

It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.

He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.

“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.

“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.

“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.

“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.

“Settled?” Rhys offered.

Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”

“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.

“I do. Of course I love her.”

“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”

“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.

He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

---

Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 

Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.

You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 

“You do not,” you smiled.

“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 

You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 

He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 

Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.

Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.

You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 

Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.

“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.

“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”

Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.

“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 

“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 

You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 

Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 

Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 

All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.

You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 

Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.

---

Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 

Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 

He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 

He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.

“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 

He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 

Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”

“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 

You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”

You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”

“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 

A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.

Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”

“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 

“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”

“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 

Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 

“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”

He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.

Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 

One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.

“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.

Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.

He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”

“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 

“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.

“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 

After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”

Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”

“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 

“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 

His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 

He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.

Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 

---

You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 

You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 

How could you ever be sure?

After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 

Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…

You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 

What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.

Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 

Whatever this ended up being.

Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 

“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.

Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. 

“Hi,” you replied timidly.

His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 

He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 

You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”

His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 

It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 

On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 

You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 

Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 

You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 

I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 

Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 

---

Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 

He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 

He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 

He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 

You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 

“Hi,” you said, quietly. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 

You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.

“I read it,” you whispered. 

He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”

Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”

“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”

Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 

You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers and winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”

“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 

“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.

Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 

---

After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”

Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”

You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.

“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 

After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”

You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”

Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much

[norrisleclercf1]

He's Not Yours

Pairing: Mafia!Jenson x Assistant!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Pregnancy, lying, angst, fluff, it's really just, yeah

Synopsis: One night changes your life, but one lie completely destroys it

Mafia Jenson: pt.1 Unattainable / pt.2 Slipping Through My Fingers

A/N: This was an idea @percervall and I talked about a long time ago and I’m finally writing it and yes this is part of the main story

With shaking hands, you try to read the test before you; you are unwilling to believe what the test says. The two little lines mock you, making you sick. Taking another deep breath, you grab your phone and dial the first person you can think of. 

"I need you," 

-----------------------

Lewis holds it as you sit on the couch, sobbing, trying to get control. You craved control, but instead, you've thrown your world into such uncontrollable chaos that your chest has tightened. Lewis takes an intense breath, blows out, puts the test down on the coffee table, and slowly bends to your height. 

"Jenson?" He asks the question slowly like he knew asking you would set off a whole wave of tears. You flinch at his name, the flashes of drinks, laughter, his hands on your body, pulling delicious toe-curling orgasms out of you. And the way he felt inside you. Shaking your head, you nod it slowly, and Lewis groans. He wants to yell at you for finally getting with Jenson and being so reckless. 

"Well, I know this isn't how you wanted to get with him, but Y/n." "He can never know," Lewis snaps his mouth shut, his eyes narrowing but softening when you look up at him. "Lewis, he can never know. Lewis, promise me, promise me you won't tell him." Lewis groans and hangs his head. Sighing, he pulls you into his arms as you cry into his chest. "I won't, I won't tell him." 

--------------------

You finally calmed down enough to talk with Lewis about being pregnant. Pregnant, you couldn't believe it. Pregnant with Jenson's baby, it made a smile tug at your lips, but you had to shake your head as it would be extremely dangerous having his child. You loved Jenson, and he loved you, yet you two kept up this game of not being together. Jenson was the head of a Mafia group, and if his enemies learned he had a child, he'd have a weakness, a weakness that would end with either the child's death or his, and you knew you wouldn't survive either. 

"I know you don't want to tell him, but you can't hide it," Lewis whispers, pouring you some juice, even though you'd really wish it was alcohol. "I'm not going to hide it, Lewis. Just tell him it's someone else's, baby," Lewis makes a disgruntled noise and sits down, shaking his head. "Y/n, I love you, but that would crush him. He loves you, and you two finally sleep together, and he has been chewing Fernando and I's ear off about how you two are finally coming together." The knife in your heart stabs deeper, tearing into the muscle with such force you choke on air. 

"If people find out that this is his child, they'll target the child, and Jenson would," You take a deep breath as the tears gather in your eyes. "Jenson would rather die than let his child be harmed. I can't lose them both," You whimper, hanging your head in shame. "You're going to lose him if you tell him that you're carrying another man's baby." Lewis loves you, he'd kill for you, has killed for you, he'd die for you, but he wouldn't support you in this. Jenson has been his friend for years, and this would crush his dearest friend. 

"You think I don't know that!" Your voice raises at the end, and you swallow back the bile burning your throat. "Lewis, just trust that I'm doing the right thing," Lewis has never seen you so broken. You were always this badass, tough woman who could cut a man down with one look. Hell, you've got Jenson Button down on his knees for you. "I don't think you're doing the right thing, but I'll be here for you, no matter what." Lewis moves, sitting down next to you and kissing your head. 

"We have the gala tonight," you whisper, and Lewis groans, knowing Jenson will be all over you. You know, last gala, I snuck off with Sebastian, and we were gone for a while," you whisper, and Lewis goes tense next to you. "Don't, Jenson and Sebastian are close," You chuckle, sipping at the sweet drink in your hand. "Sebastian and I were engaged once." His jaw drops as you nod, having never revealed that fact. "I'm sorry, what? You were once engaged to Michael Schumacher's right-hand man, now the German Mafia's leader?" Lewis pulls back, and a wet chuckle gets past your lips. 

"We were children, young, we met at university, and well, it was a whirlwind romance. We got so close to being married, but we both realized we didn't want this, so we stopped. Stayed good friends too," Lewis thinks over every interaction you've had with them, and you giggle, seeing the lightbulb go off. "Oh my god, that's how you got us to meet with them," you nod and start to laugh, feeling slightly lighter. 

"Jesus," Lewis sinks into the couch as you nod. Where did you...could it be?" You stop him and shake your head no. "No, Sebastian... no, we didn't sleep together," you admit, and Lewis nods his head, not wanting to doubt you, but right now, he needs a little doubt. "Would Sebastian even agree to this?" Sipping on the juice is the only thing that does not make you nauseous. "Yes, he owes me." Lewis raises an eyebrow, and you lean back into his arms, his fingers digging into your neck muscles. 

"Why does he owe you?" Lewis stops and shakes his head fast. "Actually, don't tell me, knowing you, it's probably something horrible." Your lip quirks up as you sigh and look at Lewis. "He's in love with Mark," "Oh yeah, he's in love with Mark," Lewis repeats, his eyes slowly growing wide as he lets the words sink in. "What, but Mark is," "Yep," You whisper sadly, remembering the night Sebastian sobbed in your arms about Mark and how he would never love him. 

"Does Mark," "He suspects something, but that's why tonight I'll be stuck by his side. He'll get drunk and do something reckless," You whisper, Lewis nods and looks at the time. "We should get going," You nod, standing as you look down at the pregnancy test. "Oh god, I'm pregnant." Lewis laughs and pulls you into his chest, rubbing your arm, "Yeah, yeah, you are," 

----------------------

"Something is off," Lewis tenses next to Jenson as he stares at you and Sebastian. Lewis tries hard not to make eye contact, worried he'll spill everything to Jenson. "What, no, nothing is off," Lewis answers far too fast, but Jenson doesn't clock it, staring a hole into your head. "How do Sebastian and Y/n know each other?" Lewis swears his muscles will rip from how tight they are, and Mark questions the closeness between you and Sebastian. 

Lewis wishes you could hear his thoughts as Sebastian puts an arm around your waist, and you lean into him. Lewis closes his eyes and sees Sebastian moving his hand lower and you inching closer. "Okay, I'm going to rip his hand off," Jenson slams his whiskey down, but Mark steps in. "Touch him, and I'll rip you apart." Jenson and Mark have a stare-down, Lewis panicking. "Stop it. They used to be engaged, so I'm sure there are still feelings there," Lewis blurts out, and he groans, knowing he just fucked up. 

"What?" Jenson's sound makes Lewis's blood run cold as Fernando walks up and giggles. "Eh, love birds are leaving," Lewis wishes Fernando could read a room. Actually, he could. He was just feeding into it." Jenson's eyes turn pitch black as Sebastian grins and leads you out of the gala. 

-------------------

"Congratulations," Sebastian whispers, and you smile, lying your head on his shoulder. "If anyone asks, can," "Of course, but you know I won't be in the baby's life; I'm going to be the cool uncle." You giggle, and he sighs, pulling you closer. "So, Jenson, you are having a baby." "No," Your voice is cold as you touch your stomach. "I'm having a baby, not Jenson. He was just a...a sperm donor." You spit and sigh as Sebastian stares at you with wide eyes. "Woah, alright, never mind. Noted, don't talk about Jenson." Sebastian whispers, and you groan, burying your face in your hands. 

"Sorry, it's the fucking hormones, if the time is right, I'm 3 months pregnant." Sebastian hums and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. "It's okay, but I'm serious; you can say I'm the father, but I can't be involved; he's around too much." You understood why Sebastian stayed away. It was too painful for him to constantly see Mark and not be with him. "I understand." And you did. It was unbearable for you to be around Jenson, even more so now that you are pregnant. 

"I could always move to Germany," You offer, and Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head no. "He'd follow you, and then rip me to shreds, and then just drag you back here." You nod your head, knowing that was all very true. "I'm glad I can call you my friend," Sebastian smirks and waves a hand over him. "Well, duh, I'm the better blonde." Giggling, you two stand up and walk back to the party; you shiver, feeling someone watching you. 

Turning, you see a distraught Lewis, a confused Mark, a smug Fernando, and a furious Jenson. Sebastian notices and moves, placing a delicate kiss on your lips and shocking you. You can see Fernando and Lewis holding Jenson back. "I hope you're making the right decision." You smile, and Sebastian gives you one last kiss, leaving you in the shadows. 

Walking over, you grab a drink, but Lewis quickly swaps them, and you nod. "What the fuck was that about?" Jenson growls, Mark even looking pissed, which has you thinking things over. "I was telling him some news," "Which is what? What could possibly have been your ex-fiance kissing you?" You whip your head to Lewis, who quickly looks away and whistles. "Nothing," Jenson tightens his hold on his glass and waves over the bartender. "Get her a real drink, please," "No, thank you," The guys stare at you, shocked; you always drink with them. "I can't drink," You whisper, unable to look them in the eyes. 

The bartender's eyes sweep over you and smile. "Congrats." He walks off. Jenson stares, but then a smile starts to grow. "Are you?" "Yes! And it's Sebastian's okay, but he wants... just leave it alone." You whisper. A pen could drop with how silent it was around you. Lewis, I want to go home now," Lewis nods and gathers you in his arms, noticing how you are still wearing Sebastian's jacket. 

---------------------

2 months later, 5 months pregnant

You stopped wearing your heels, and you hated it. Mark and Jenson kept towering over you, and you were annoyed with it. Since that night at the gala, Jenson hasn't said much to you, just small words here and there, but today, he asked you to come into the office early, so here you are, trying to figure out what he would want to say to you. 

Knocking on the office door, you push it open and see Jenson sitting in the same position you left him last night. "Did you stay the night?" You ask, shocked at his disheveled state. "Are you pregnant with my baby?" The question throws you off, shock flashing through your features, but you quickly school your emotions and take a deep breath. "No, Jenson, it's not your baby." His face, once stoic, breaks as he takes a deep breath and looks away. 

"There's...not even a chance?" He whispers, and you hate being pregnant at this moment because he's got your throat tightening without even touching you, eyes burning like fire has been thrown in them. "No," You choke on the word; clearing your throat, you roll your shoulders back and speak up. "No, there's not a chance." You repeat, and Jenson leans back, rubs his face, and nods. "Sebastian, he....he's going to be there for you, yes?" It wasn't really a question; it was more of a demand. "No, he wants nothing to do with the bug, baby." Jenson's face is cold, but then he cracks a smile. 

"Bug?" You sigh. It was something you started calling the baby, and it just stuck. Lewis even bought the baby a little bug plushie. "Yes, it's something I called the baby," "That's cute," Jenson stands and walks over before settling on his couch and patting the empty side. You move and sit down, feeling your feet ache as you whine. "I'm not the father, but I want to help Y/n," You open your eyes and stare at him. The raw emotion on his face eats you alive, Jenson has always spoken about how much he's always wanted to be a father, and here he is, the father of your baby, and you're hiding that from him. Taking away the one thing he's truly wanted. 

"Jenson, you don't have to," Jenson moves, his large hands wrapping around your ankles and lifting them to his lap, and slowly rub the soles of your feet. "Jenson, please, I'm doing this alone," You whisper and pull your feet in, knees tucked into your chest. Jenson stares at you, the rejection hurting, but he clears his throat. "So, I'm just your boss, and you're my assistant, and us fucking, us telling each other we loved one another, that never happened? Instead, you fucked, Sebastian, and now you're pregnant with his baby, not mine." Jenson snaps, standing up, and you flinch, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just," You don't know what comes over you, but you start to cry and hold your arms out to him, just wanting to feel his warmth and smell the whiskey and earth that clings to him. Jenson doesn't think twice and sits down, pulling you into his lap. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You repeat, sobbing into his chest. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm always here," 

----------------------

3 months later, 8 months pregnant 

You don't know how it happened, but one day, you were living in your lovely apartment, and suddenly, you were living in Jenson's home, painting the nursery together. Now, you're lying in bed, wondering if you should talk to Jenson. 

He wasn't his usual self; as your stomach grew, the more he refused to let you out of his sight, and you could tell he was slowly losing his mind. According to Lewis, he saw Sebastian not too long ago, and they both left the room with busted lips and black eyes. Jenson came stalking into the house, stormed past you, and locked himself up in his study hours ago. Unable to sleep, you throw the covers off and groan. 

Your stomach was heavier and heavier by the day as your little bug was dropping, getting ready for you to give birth. Holding your stomach, you waddle to his study and knock on the door softly. "Jense, it's me." You push it open with ease and stop seeing him sitting at the desk, his head down and a bottle of whiskey half empty. "Jenson," You whisper, close the door, and walk farther into the study. "Jenson, love," You whisper, hating how you living here has made you two grow closer, scary close for you. 

He looks up, and you hiss, seeing his eye and lip swollen. "That should be my baby; I wish it was my baby; I wish you were mine." He croaks, and you freeze, your hold on your stomach tightening. "Jense," "I would take such good care of you because I-.. because I love you." He whimpers, sounding so broken that you blink, and tears slide down your cheeks. Your chest aches; you knew he'd remember nothing in the morning. He was far too drunk to even correctly see if it was you in front of him and not some dream. 

"Jenson, he is yours," you whisper, stepping forward and cupping his face, wiping the tears as his hands touch your stomach, staring at it. "Don't hurt me like that, baby. It's okay; I don't need to lie to protect my heart. Don't care. I will care for them no matter what. I will care for both of you," He slurs with a sad smile. That ache in your chest grows as you pull him up; he stumbles but stands upright and blinks slowly. "Let's go to bed, Jense." Jenson nods and follows after you. He stumbles occasionally, but you carefully lead him into the room, and he flops onto his bed. 

"Go to sleep," You lean down and kiss his cheek, but he stops you, and you freeze, having never seen such vulnerability in someone before. "Stay, I'm, just stay," He begs, and you nod, not even thinking twice as you climb into the bed and sigh. Jenson's hand moves to your stomach, lying on it protectively. You flinch, feeling a little kick, and Jenson giggles. "Hey, little bug, I'm Jenson. I'm not your father, but I'll love you like one." You bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to sob as Jenson slips off into sleep, leaving you to sob quietly into the pillow. 

---------------------------

1 month later, Hospital 

Jenson couldn't believe it; this tiny little human, the tiny bug, was finally here, in his arms. You slept soundly as Jenson refused to leave your side, and Lewis was picking out the perfect outfit to take him home in. "Should we do the bugs?" Jenson makes a face, and Lewis sighs as Jenson can't look away. The tiny bundle was tucked tight in his arms, staring up at Jenson. Jenson hated that the baby had Sebastian's eyes, these perfect little blues, with a little button nose and perfect lips. 

"Here, dress him in this," Lewis says, holding out a pretty blue onesie, but Jenson shakes his head. He and the baby were doing skin-to-skin, and it felt like the perfect thing to do like the universe was frozen and nothing was wrong in the world. Jenson, you have to dress him." Lewis whispers, and Jenson finally looks away and groans, taking the onesie. "Ruining mine and bug's moment." "His name is Theodore, Theo for short." Jenson doesn't think it is possible, but he falls more in love with the little boy and his mother. 

"Called Sebastian," Mark walks into the room and coos at the little blue eyes staring at him. Mark freezes and looks at Lewis with realization; Lewis slowly shakes his head no, and Mark looks at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed, and back at one of his dearest friends dressing the tiny human. "Yeah, what did he say? Does he even want to see his son?" Jenson asks in a cheery tone, but they can hear the anger in them. 

Theo coos and yawns. Mark melts before shaking his head. "Um, he said, 'Oh, that's good,' and hung up." Jenson picks up little Theo and holds him close like any father would. "Fuck him," Lewis casts a glare, and Jenson doesn't see it too wrapped up in little Theo, who just stares right back at Jenson. 

"Jenson," Lewis whispers; his close friend looks up with so much happiness and love that Lewis feels his heartbreak. Don't forget, he's not yours." Jenson's smile fades, blinking slowly as he looks back down at Theo and then at you. I know, but a man could dream." Jenson's voice breaks as he leans down, kissing Theo softly. "A man could dream," he whispers softly. 

[risuola]

F. READER X SUKUNA RYOMEN // After Sukuna finally got a human body, his power was taken away and sealed within you.

cw: Sukuna is separated from Yuji and has his own body (not the heian form tho!), smut, mentions of hurt and violence, some blood and execution mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 7,3k words

a/n: ok so i've been meaning to finish this wip for so long and as i opened the file i realized i don't like the way it's written and i rewrote all 11 pages in word and now it's hopefully finished so... enjoy the usual — hurt, comfort, angst-fluff dynamics and emotional constipation ♡

“What do you want, curse?”

A long, deep sigh escaped your lungs as you reached for a towel to dry your body off. As you stepped out of a shower, last thing you expected to see was the King of Curses himself leaning nonchalantly against the tiled wall of your bathroom, eyeing you with the wicked smile on his face. How on brand. You didn’t expect him but saying that his sudden presence surprised you would be an overstatement. You learned to expect him anytime.

“Don’t ask silly questions,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes that in the sharp lights of your ceiling lamp glistened in blood-red. All four of them were fixed on your damp frame, on your exhausted body. It wasn’t the best day to mess with him. Not that any other day was better to deal with the most cursed curse of all curses that ever existed — this one though was particularly inconvenient.

It wasn’t longer than maybe an hour since you got home, returning from a mission that Gojo had given you, entrusting your power to rid the world of a group of curses. They were exceptionally violent, first to special grade with no doubt and you did, in fact, manage to exorcise them all, but not without your body getting painfully battered.

“You know I cannot grant your wish, don’t you? I wouldn’t give you your powers even if the world was on fire and you were the last available option to save it.”

He scoffed, again, and smirked like the pure evil that he is. You approached slowly, reaching for the robe hanging beside him, hopeful to get this conversation over sooner rather than later, but before your fingers even had a chance of grasping the soft, silky fabric of the gown, Sukuna snatched your wrist. His long, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm and he twisted it, tugging and pulling, until your back hit the wall.

Trapped between the cold tiles and his muscular frame, you winced at the sudden wave of pain that struck your body. Your reaction time lacked as in matter of split seconds both of your wrists were pinned above your head, bound by only one of his large hands and you were helpless. So devastatingly, utterly helpless against the sheer force in front of you. Your bones were fragile as twigs in his iron grip, so easy to bend and break under the pressure of the power he held and you knew it from practice that he could and he would break them if he wished to do so.

“That little mouth of yours is gonna get you in big trouble one day,” he said, a sound as low as a purr, and a grin spread across his face, as he lowered his head enough to meet your eyes. His gaze, tinged with crimson and madness, pierced your soul and if you didn’t know better, you’d say your prayers right now because the face in front of you was a face of slow and cruel death.

“I bet I can manage the trouble that is you. I appreciate the care,” you were calm, sounded calm, despite the rushing rumble of your heart against the ribcage in your chest. You were nonchalant, ignorant even, most likely very naïve and dumb, but you knew that what would be a certain demise to anyone else, for you it just wasn’t.

Born into a family of ordinary people, you were different. Gifted with the sight that allowed you to notice what was invisible to the eyes of others — the spirits. Curses. The ability formed your life, led you onto a path which eventually crossed with the man you only heard legends about. Satoru Gojo had taken you under his wing, showed you the world of jujutsu and allowed you to be yourself when everyone else wanted you to just act normal. But you were a special one. You were gifted, no, you were heavily and deeply tainted with something you couldn’t understand. Something even he couldn’t understand. There was no rank for you. No label that could be tied to your name. You were just different, with the exceptional physical fitness and peculiar, precise control over the cursed energy, you easily passed all of the tests and challenges. But your powers are dark. They are heavy, suffocating, they made other people fear you despite the kindness that showed through your warm personality.  

“I hate it when you talk down to me,” Sukuna growled. His low voice died down when he slowly pressed his lips to yours, greedily taking your breath away as his hand swiftly removed the towel from your body. A shiver ran down your spine, the sudden contact with the cold ceramics behind you made you jolt forward, involuntarily pressing your body against the wall of muscle. Ryomen’s clothed torso provided more comfort than the bone-chilling tiles. You felt him smirk against your mouth.

When Sukuna separated from Itadori’s body, materializing in his own form and threatening the entire universe with his existence and unsatiable thirst for blood and destruction, Satoru, along with some other people that you didn’t know, acted immediately. It was a sacrifice to pick you for the new vessel, it was a decision made in a rush and you’d have to think twice before agreeing to it again if you ever had a chance. Your technique allowed you to store someone else’s cursed energy so it was an easy choice for everyone involved.

The King of Curses got stripped of most of his power when he was barely awakened in his own body, and said power was then transferred to yours. Sealed inside your fragile human frame, nearly destroying you from inside out with the initial shock wave. Since that day you had to learn and accept to live with constant pain, the never-ending suffering, because locking away Sukuna’s evil was much more important than your well-being.

You were told that it’s different than what Itadori was to the king. The curse created a space for itself inside Yuji’s soul, keeping his own powers contained to only himself and you — you had his cursed energy constantly, unstoppably racing through your body, poisoning your veins with every pump of your heart and it hurt. It burned like a hellfire was spreading throughout your circulatory system and since that day, your life had become a curse itself. Your sleep has gotten worse, you were tired and for the first few weeks you were barely able to move. It felt like the cells were tearing themselves apart inside you, like everything was in a state of never-ending volcanic eruption. It was agonizing, torturous. You felt like dying. Every day. Luckily, Ieiri was able to develop a medicine that taken every day, calmed everything down enough to make it bearable.  

You got used to it, as the year passed by, but what you also had to get used to, was the owner. Ryomen Sukuna visited you so often that he partially lived in your apartment, patiently torturing you with his presence until you gave him what he was rightfully entitled to. He didn’t even consider covering a part of your rent, asshole. He couldn’t kill you — your death would take all of his powers down to your grave with you — but it didn’t stop him from trying his luck with everything that wasn’t enough to take your life.

You remember the first attempts, the first showcases of his annoyance. It was a shame, it was pathetic to Sukuna and he felt humiliated to get caught in such a simple trick, to allow himself to not have his guard up from the very first breath he took once he separated from the brat. All of that pent up anger, he threw on you and the many trials of violence and brutality had taught him that your tolerance for pain was high. And you fought back. Over time, and after many weeks you spent inside the hospital bed underneath the precise care of Shoko, Sukuna had realized that no amount of beating and torture will force you into obedience — as annoying as the realization was — so he changed his ways and switched to haunting you. Taunting you with his constant presence. Able to enter your apartment at any given moment, the curse made sure you were never too comfortable in your own home. You grew to live with that too.

“Hurts?” Sukuna grinned, watching the wince that twisted your otherwise attractive features the very moment his fingers dug into your side. With sadistic pleasure he studied the way your brows creased and your eyes fell shut. The rumble of your heart was evident in the silence of the bathroom and even more evident were the very palpable fractures of your ribs underneath his palms. “Want me to stop?” He mused, griping the injury tighter and the cruel wave of pain almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

“You are charming as always, curse,” you scoffed, forcing some oxygen into your system and cussing yourself internally for showing the pain, for giving him the clearest indication of your weakened state. For giving him something to use against you. “It hurts, yes. I’ve had a rough day, I’d like to rest.”

“Then I will take you to bed,” he let go of both your hands and ribs, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. Your bare body seemed tiny against the tall, muscular built of him. Too fragile to be so stubborn and blame it on said fragility, but Sukuna out of habit put you down onto the plush sheets with gentleness so uncharacteristic of him.

“You know I can’t give you what you want,” you looked at him, your gaze portraying the tiniest sliver of hope that finally he’ll understand and give up, but giving up wasn’t a phrase present in king’s vocabulary. He’d rather die than let go and both of you knew it. “I’m sure you can tell I’m exhausted, but if you make me, I will fight.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, woman,” he grinned, allowing his two pairs of eyes to run down your naked body, silently admiring the petite frame that was capable of holding all of his strength. “I wouldn’t force you to fight when you’re already so beaten. What do you think I am, a monster?”

“Not a monster. You’re a curse, which is worse.” A shrug of your shoulders sent a jolt of pain throughout your body and it took everything from you to not wince in front of him again. You reached for a t-shirt you use to sleep in — a garment stolen from Itadori, big enough to almost be a dress, comfortable cotton that wrapped you with softness and warmth. Sukuna knows your body. He’s seen it naked, touched and tasted it many times and the piercing gaze of all four of his eyes on your skin was something you grew to accept, but you wanted to get dressed anyway. Sukuna was never a gentle lover and your broken ribcage wouldn’t take his roughness too well.

"It sounds so lovely in your mouth," he chuckled, taking the blouse from your hands and tossing it carelessly away. "Who said you can dress up?"

"Who said you can give me orders?"

"Am I not the king?"

"Of curses, yes. I'm not a curse, your jurisdiction does not apply to me."

“Gods, you need to shut up.”

There was only one thing Sukuna grew to enjoy a sliver bit more than torturing you and that was having sex — though he dismayed the thought of such primal pleasures taking over his urges. It felt foreign at first, as if his own body tried to betray him by showing interest in a simple, unworthy human just as you, but he was able to reason it within his own, conflicted mind. Intimacy created a leak. A leak of his own power seeping through you, an unknown weakening of your defenses and Sukuna was able to, quite literally, fuck his powers out of you, absorb it back into his own form, feel more like himself for just a little moment.

Other thing is — and he hated it the most — that he genuinely enjoyed the time in bed with you. It was pleasurable, too pleasurable almost and Ryomen actively dismissed the idea of you stripping him off his cold judgement, the clarity of his thoughts, but he loved it also. Every soft whimper and whisper of his name that ever slipped through your lips made his ego grow, made him want more and although he hated the seal, he admired the shell you wore around your soul and if there was ever anyone he wished to be intimate with, it was you. You held his power in the body he was able to touch, to taste, to have, and over time Sukuna grew to respect it, in his own twisted way. Over hundreds of years he’s been around, he had seen people brave — or stupid — enough to try and contain his power, to ingest one of the cursed objects his soul was fragmented into and then, he watched them die in pain and suffering just from a small fraction of it. You were able to hold it, agony or not.

You, on the other hand, had no clue what exactly was causing the seal to leak, you couldn’t tell why was it happening when he was inside you and not when he was trying to beat the life out of you. Why breaking your bones never let a drop of his energy to slip from under your control and the intimacy made you lose it just like that? You couldn’t tell, but just the fact that Sukuna’s able to regain any amount of his legacy through intercourse should be enough of a reason to never, ever let him touch you, but oh well. Elders didn’t like you anyway and the cursed energy released was so insignificant it wouldn’t really cause much trouble — that’s at least how you reasoned with yourself. Sometimes you wondered if the small boost was even worth all the trouble for the king, but it wasn’t hard to notice he was clearly enjoying just being close to you.

“Oh, do I?” You questioned him; dared, and he took you on a challenge, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered and pressed your open palms to his clothed chest when he climbed on top of you, hovering above your much smaller frame and allowing his shadow and evil aura to swallow you and you flinched. Your senses, however trained, were always on high alert when he was so close. It was reflexive, a first response that screamed, begged, to get away from him, to run and don’t look back but you had to learn pushing it down. It’s been only few weeks since you managed to fix and patch up the hole his fist once made in one of your walls and putting up a fight right now would certainly damage your apartment yet again. Not to speak about yourself.

“You never know when to shut up,” he purred against your lips and moved, following the edges of your jawline and down your neck, spreading wet bites and marks along your delicate skin there.

“Sukuna, please, not today,” you whimpered, pleading and gasping just slightly, feeling his long, calloused fingers already finding their place between your thighs, teasing the awaiting bud of joy and pleasure that, unlike you, was very excited for the events unraveling.

“Why not?” He asked, letting go the sensitive skin right above your pulse and admiring the reddish, swollen patch he left there. “You’re so wet, I cannot ignore it.” You could feel his grin against your shoulder, hear it in the mocking yet proud tone of his voice because he was proud of himself. He knew how to push your buttons, which ones to push first and how to navigate his lips and fingers across your curves and hollows to make the most out of it because truth is, ever since he got his own human-like body, he was able to appreciate physical pleasures that before that, he couldn’t care less about. “Aren’t you ashamed? A sorcerer, spreading your legs for the king of curses? Moaning my name instead of spells, digging your nails into my skin instead of knives?”

“Aren’t you ashamed? The King of Curses himself, getting so hard and worked up for a simple human?” You replied with a mock underlying in your tone and he laughed.

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”

“You did,” you confirmed, nodding and pulling his blouse up, forcing him to undress and he complied. His covered in black markings skin, stretched over a strong musculature never failed to make you gasp in awe. Sukuna is an attractive man, slightly reminiscing you of Itadori due to him being the last of his hosts, but also completely different. The aura is different, the height and body shape. There’s nothing of Yuji’s kindhearted, warm nature — Ryomen is a menace. His eyes are narrowed, knowing, proud. He’s arrogant, he’s full of himself, he’s spiteful and uncaring and sometimes you wondered how he managed to coexist with the society for a year now, with his temper so cold and obnoxious.

“So behave,” he smirked, pushing your knees apart and slipping two of his thick fingers inside you. He worked them easily through the slick, warm entrance and stretched you with slow movements. A brief attempt of foreplay, careless towards the discomfort his hands managed to cause you, but he loved it — he loved to feel how wet you could get for him, he loved to see you all worked up, blushed and flushed, squirming underneath his very touch. “Behave or it’ll hurt more than necessary.”

“It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no way around it,” you breathed out, your tone quite blank as you tried to brace yourself to feel every broken bone in your ribcage. Truth is that breathing was causing you problems and you were actively pushing the petrifying thought of rough sex deep down your thoughts. “I’m not good at behaving.”

“Hard to disagree,” the curse chuckled, running the tip of his tongue along the length of your neck and it took him a second to replace his soaked-up digits with his rock-hard member. Low, animalistic and gravelly purr escaped his throat, as his length got into the tight embrace of muscles inside you. A velvety warmth mixed with sharp, stinging feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back made his mind go blank for a moment. You run your fingers across his body, adding new marks to the constellation of his own and he took in the way your breath hitched in your chest, the soft thud of your heart that he felt underneath his lips as he kissed your neck, nipping and sucking spots onto the otherwise clean surface. Hot waves of euphoria rushed through him, adrenaline pumped inside his veins and were it not for your injuries, he would be pounding into you relentlessly by now, pushing you above and beyond your limits, mercilessly taking your breath away time after time, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and basking in the exhilarating feeling of you taking him in. If not for the bones that he so clearly can feel beneath his fingertips, the fractures sharp against your skin over your ribcage, he would be relentlessly rushing towards orgasm and ecstasy. This time, he refrained. This time, he decided to be curious, to see how the softness you always tell him about tastes on his own tongue.

Sukuna’s movements were slow, odd but deep and heavy. Every nerve, every sensitive spot in your entire body was hit and abused again and again and again. His lips kept gluing themselves to your mouth, your neck, shoulders. He was kissing your chest, nipping at your skin, making you heave, and moan, and whimper. He was taking you all in, observing, listening, savoring and it didn’t take long for the heat to pool below your stomach. A coil of tight pleasure, a knot begging to snap open and undo itself. The man was all over you, his hips worked in a rhythmical melody that’s got you lose your focus, your train of thoughts. It cleared your mind — a blank space that now was filled only with him and the intense, addicting way his hips moved.

You trembled.

Your thighs were shaking, your breath cut short.

You’ve had your fair share of intercourses with the King of Curses — each of them pleasurable in its own way. He has his ways of exhausting you, of pushing your limits, overstimulating you. He experimented, dominated and forced you into submission one way or another. Sukuna is no stranger to pain and violence and throughout the year you’ve got to know all colors of his palette but nothing, not once, resembled the tenderness he showed you this time.

“Suku–ahh—” you panted, cried out, gripping his biceps tightly.

“That’s right, let it out,” he grinned, demanded and moved his hips with more precision, just a little more force to hit that one spot he knew does it for you and it stole a breath from you. Your back arched, despite the broken bones, your head went blank as the groundbreaking wave of pleasure washed over you. The tight ring of muscles kept squeezing and contracting and Sukuna groaned along with you. He was leaking, his balls heavy and aching for release that he forcefully postponed, greedy to take more from you before he gives you any of his.

He pulled out, almost completely — a false promise of a breather — and then pushed back, fully, completely. His body moves more frantically, more rushed and yet, the compassion rushed in his veins, stripping the thrusts off their usual violence.

Odd. Addicting.

The first bliss was soon followed by two more and your third climax was his first. He became sloppier, hurried as he chased the sweet, sweet release and you tangled your fingers into his soft, blush-colored hair pulling him in and kissing his breath away. You couldn’t focus and nether could he. Nothing but the immense pleasure of the act, nothing before and nothing after, just here and now. Your body and his, in your apartment, in your bed. And when he came, he drew blood from your lower lip, catching it between his sharp fangs.

You let out a shaky breath, way more tired than before and yet, you smiled softly when Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you — the last bits of reason that made him shift his body to the side so that he wouldn’t put his weight on top of your fragile frame. He had this infuriating and oddly attractive smirk plastered onto his face and you knew he’s listening — to your calming breath and the harsh thuds of your heartbeat rumbling inside your chest.

Sukuna felt content. Utterly and completely satisfied and what’s got him surprised, he also felt his cells swell with power. The amount that leaked, due to unknown reasons, was incomparable to what he’s ever been able to absorb before. He couldn’t tell if it was your exhaustion, the wounds and damage your body was covered with or just the way he took you this time, but he knew for a fact that there was more. He also noticed that this time, unlike any other, he was completely abandoning the idea of cursed energy. It’s as if it entered his body on its own, without him actively taking it in, all while he was completely lost in the moments of pleasure, lost in you.

A grin on his face only got bigger, the feeling of might overwhelming him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to destroy and kill. To feel like his old, superior self, to force his way through other people’s suffering. It felt ecstatic, to have a part of himself back, to feel the strength surging through him and—

—that’s until he looked at you again and he realized there was a scent of blood in the air. A metallic hint of something that was very wrong with you, something that he never thought he would miss since he loved to be surrounded by blood. But you were quiet about it. Breathing fast, with a hand pressed to your side and your eyebrows furrowed — a clear giveaway of the pain that slowly returned to you once the euphoric aftershocks wore off.

“You’re bleeding, huh?” He more so stated than asked, gathering himself up and gently, carefully slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and the other around your back. Once he lifted your worn off body, not without a quiet wince slipping from your mouth, the red, vibrant stain revealed itself from where you were resting. “That wound was there before, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was,” you replied, weakly, leaning the side of your head towards his flexing bicep and clenching your fingers around your fractured mid-section.

The shower, hot and steamy, wasn’t the most pleasant of all, but it did wonders to wash away the sticky residues from your thighs and the blood and sweat that mixed atop of your skin. Sukuna’s large hand pressed itself onto the wound, forcing it to stop bleeding — trying, at least.

“Why didn’t you heal it?”

“I didn’t have enough power to do so. I just barely managed to close it, and—” You trailed off, feeling dizzy. It was getting to you, ridding you of basic abilities to communicate and the king caught up immediately.

Water got turned off and he dried you quickly, superficially. You felt the towel being run over your limbs and pressed around your torso where the most damage was. Then he wrapped a bandage around you, tight and precise, hopeful to get the bleeding in control before he took you back under the sheets — with clean underwear on and after he flash-changed the sheets into clean ones.

Your battery was so low, you felt like you’re gonna pass out any moment.

“It was amazing,” you told him, once his weight dented the mattress and his body heat reached your cold skin. Usually, you wouldn’t feed into his ego, it was already way too big and swollen, but you figured he deserved to hear a praise after he restrained himself from fucking you to death.

“Rest,” he ordered, harsh and dry but he couldn’t hide the little smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He acted like he didn’t care of what you just said, but he did, and he’ll remember it.

With hopes that sleep will solve your health issues, Sukuna watched as you drifted away and with deep dismay he noticed that the white bandages that hug your torso were slowly and steadily turning red. Your face was in a constant frown, you were visibly in pain and getting feverish, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he cursed his own self for caring about such things. You were a strong woman — despite all of his insults and cruel words he had told you during the past year — and he had never, not once, saw you in such a pathetic, vulnerable state but then, maybe if he stayed with you more often instead of leaving the moment he was done fucking his powers out of you, he would know better. Even so, you never complained and Sukuna isn’t stupid, he knows how much trouble his cursed energy causes you, how much pain and everyday agony you have to push through and yet, he never heard you whine about it.

King’s hands moved on their own, and when they touched your cold body, the healing process began. He watched the dark bruise around your ribcage fade into nothing and observed how the fractured bones underneath the skin moved and shifted into their original places. The blood stopped soaking the bandages and once rid of them, Ryomen watched how your skin knitted back together, leaving nothing but a pale, pinkish scar. Every last bit of his power he put into the reverse cursed technique to repair as much damage as he could. Then, with his arm around your waist, he fell asleep next to you.

* * *

Waking up to a man in your bed wasn’t exactly something you’re used to — even if said man is Ryomen Sukuna who’s an often guest between your sheets. He never stays because he never cares enough to stay, not to mention staying in a tight embrace. You found yourself snuggled close to his side, your head resting on his muscular chest while his arm was wrapped around you, making sure you’re not going anywhere. His hand was resting exactly where the pain should be and with shock you realized there’s nothing — no hurt, no bandages that you have a dull memory of being wrapped in.

You didn’t heal yourself. You were too tired.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna’s voice stopped you, when you made an attempt to pull yourself away from him. He sounded lower than usual, raspier and unsettlingly not evil.

“Why are you still here?” You asked, running your hand over the bumps of muscles on his abdomen. “I’m so confused. I’m not togging to complaint though.”

“You’d try, silly woman,” he grunted, amused and squeezed your side more securely. “What the hell did you do to me, huh?”

“I don’t know, but I appreciate the healing,” you teased.

“Don’t ever talk about it.”

Laughing, you forced a groan of annoyance out of him — the kind of groan that let you know you're treading on thin ice and one thoughtless move could break it, one word not thought through enough could make you fall into the pit of cold and ice.

"What, you want me to forget that the King of Curses used his hard-earned power to heal a mere sorcerer? Not a chance."

"If that mere sorcerer bleeds to death, my power will be gone as well. I had a reason for it."

"If you say so, Sukuna," still amused, you pulled away from his embrace and got up from the bed, nearly dodging a slap he aimed at your ass.

That morning, you had breakfast with the King of Curses, bringing this wonderful adventure with him to an unexpected end. Afterwards, he kissed your breath away and left you confused as ever.

Several weeks had passed until Ryomen once again entered your field of view. Unfortunate.

You had a day off, enjoying it in a café with your friends, seeping carelessly on a latte with the almond milk and a dash of honey. It was a beautiful day, warm too, and you thought nothing would mess this up but life proved you wrong when the curse stormed in, steaming with rage and madness and — call it intuition — it was a dead giveaway of why he showed up.

“Such a great day, huhhh–“ you wailed quietly, lifting your cup from the table before his fist broke the wood in half. It wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely furious he was and it made you both curious and alarmed.

“Give. Me. Something.” The man growled lowly, frustrated and outraged and you couldn’t recall any time you ever saw him that infuriated.

“I can’t, you kno–“ you tried to tell him, but before you even got the full sentence out, he already had his fingers wrapped around your neck. A sharp sound of glass shattering accompanied the quiet yelp you let out as he yanked you up and slammed your back onto the nearest wall. You felt your feet losing their contact with the ground.

“Give me something.” He repeated, his voice so low and menacing that it sent shivers down your spine. It felt as if you were speaking with death. He was so close, you felt his uneven breath on your face, the crimson of his eyes seemed to glow. “Give me something or I’ll fuck you right here and now to get it.”

The rage in his eyes, the absolute storm of bloodlust, you wondered what has gotten him so worked up. King of Curses had a short temper, yes. He was often annoyed, angry, of course, but such fury wasn’t typical to his character and you knew that if you refuse right now, he will surely go through with the threat he made and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll just get hurt.

“Put me down,” you tried, speaking calmly and wrapping your fingers around his forearm, hoping to give him a hint before your windpipe was fully crushed. Your heart was racing inside your chest, you heard the pulse in your ears, felt it in your head and neck. Fear wasn’t the most familiar feeling for you — you’ve grown accustomed to Sukuna’s violence, his tantrums and threats, his forceful ways of getting what he wanted and you also got to know him enough to know this kind of rage wasn’t caused by someone stepping on his toe or taking the last package of his favorite snack. This wasn’t caused by someone looking at him from the wrong angle. This was pure. Primal. “What happened?”

“Give me my power,” he said again, terrifyingly calm and he lowered you down so that your feet reached the floor again, but instead of letting go of your throat, he squeezed it even tighter, pressing his entire body against you. “I’m asking for the last time.”

Everyone present in the café — those who didn’t turn tail the second Sukuna raged inside — were too stunned to react, too petrified to intervene and you couldn’t blame them. The King of Curses, even stripped of most of his cursed energy, was still a threat not to be ignored. Still a menace, a mischievous demonic creature feared by curses, sorcerers and now also regular people that had a misfortune to meet him. The very sound of his name made all of them tremble in terror. You didn’t expect anyone to help you.

“I can’t breathe,” you struggled the words out, whispering on top of the very limited air that flew barely between your upper and lower parts of the respiratory systems. Sukuna growled but loosened the death grip he had on your neck, allowing the oxygen once again into your lungs. Then, you made a mistake. Then, you decided to trust him. “I hope you remember that I will be executed for this. Make it worth it.”

* * *

Later that day, deep into the night you woke up to a sudden slam of the doors. The very familiar, dark aura filled in your otherwise calm apartment and it took no effort to realize who just invaded your space. There were only two people brave enough to enter your home so recklessly and it wasn’t hard to tell them apart.

“Stay in bed,” Sukuna said once you pulled yourself up from the pillows and the mattress and he headed straight into your bathroom. “I need to wash up.”

You exhaled and lay back down, taking in the soft, monotone sound of the shower. You couldn’t tell why he was there, why did he come to your place and act like he owns it but frankly, you couldn’t care less right now about how he behaved. It somehow put you at ease that he decided to show up after what happened before. After what led you to face consequences you wished you wouldn’t have to face.

Few slurs broke up the hushed hum of water and soon it became quiet. Ryomen showed up in your bedroom just few moments after — partially dried, fully naked, with the black markings that adorned his pale skin on full display. Your eyes run down his silhouette, taking in the view no one else had a chance to experience and you let out an exhale. The man ruffled his hair with a towel, an attempt of making it less dripping, and casually slipped under the covers next to you, as if it was his place all along. You spared him the comments about how comfortable he had suddenly become within the confines of your apartment and waited patiently to hear whatever he had to say.

“There was a special curse user earlier,” he began nonchalantly, as he settled against the pillows, supporting his head with both of his arms crossed below it. “He was after you, wanted to suck out everything you have sealed inside.”

“I heard.”

“He wanted to, to quote him, fuck you dry of my power, kill you and make me watch as he became me. That was the plan, to take away the title of king.”

“So, it was about your reputation?” You questioned, letting out a deep sigh and turned away from him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes piercing a hole through your back.

“Do you think I need to worry about my reputation?” Sukuna growled annoyed and you hummed softly, neither confirming nor denying.

“I guess not.”

You were tired. Exhausted. That was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and reset but what it turned out to be, was just a disaster. You spent hours arguing with elders of Jujutsu community, trying over and over again to protect yourself, to defend your own life against the accusations that were being thrown at you from every angle and even Gojo couldn’t do much after you willingly released Sukuna’s power from the seal within you. It was bound to happen, you thought you were ready for it ever since it was mentioned for the first time. You were scheduled for execution as it seemed to be safer for the world to kill you, and king’s powers along, than to spare your life and risk it getting out of you, but Satoru then intervened, forcing the date to be postponed. You were high in ranks and he swore you’re capable of keeping the force safe and you did just that for the last twelve months. That’s until you decided to break all the rules and bend to Sukuna’s will.

It wasn’t just that. The cursed user revealed a way to loosen up the lock that held the danger away from the outside world, that he made it known that intimacy was a way to go, your future was decided already. With the knowledge out and about, the elders came to realization that in time there will be more curses or curse users that will come to you to get a taste of that sweet, sweet power and if they won’t do it, Sukuna will. Telling them that the amounts are insignificant didn’t help your case either — those pricks focused more on how you know that rather than what that meant. A diseaster.

“Now what’s wrong, huh? I didn’t kill anybody.”

King threw an arm around your waist, turning his body towards you and supporting his hand on his elbow to see you better. He pulled you into his chest, as if he wished to hide you completely inside his embrace, to protect you from whatever was weighing on your mind and you’d be very surprised if not for the turmoil now raging inside your head.

“My execution has been decided,” you spat out quietly and felt how every muscle in Sukuna’s body tensed significantly. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”

“What execution? I didn’t kill anyone. I got rid of a fucking curse user. I even saved a little brat. Unintentionally, but still.”

“I know, Sukuna, and I am grateful. I really am, but–“

“But what?”

“They found out that sex creates an opening and it just got worse and worse from that moment. They wouldn’t listen and what could I even say to make it sound better. They already figured out that I’m sleeping with you which is enough of a reason to kill me.”

“And what did the jerk in the blindfold say?”

“There’s not much he can do at this point,” you sighed, mindlessly smoothing little circles over the hand that was keeping you close. “From what I know, Gojo stayed in Jujutsu high to discuss it further, but yeah… it’s tough.”

"Should I talk to them?"

"I'm not sure if you insulting or threatening them, could help in any way."

"So what, you expect me to agree to your death?"

"I've thought about it," you said quietly. "God, I'm naive, but I think I'll give you your power back before they execute me. I just hope you don't burn the world to ashes."

"Y/n, for fuck's sake, screw that power. I want you to live. I acted before because that bastard wanted to hurt you. I don't care about my reputation; I don't need to. Sure, it pisses me off that I was robbed of my energy," he babbled, rushing his words. You knew that he wasn't the best at explaining emotions and that he would rather die than admit that he cared for someone. "I need you alive."

"Did the King of Curses perhaps fell..."

"Don't push it," he snapped and you chuckled.

"You two are soooo cute."

Gojo’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, as he materialized out of nowhere, nearly stopping your heart in the process. Last thing you expected was having him witness you in bed, with your back pressed to the very naked Sukuna and you should’ve seen that coming because you knew Satoru will step by once he’s done negotiating. While you were shocked, the curse didn’t even flinch. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

"Satoru—" You lifted yourself up on one of your elbow. "Why are you here?"

"I come with good news," a grin spread across Gojo's face. "You will not be executed tomorrow. They took into consideration the fact that Sukuna helped a child and no one was hurt. Well, I forced them to consider it."

"It was an accident," Ryomen muttered in his own defense, but you glared at him, clearly ordering him to shut up. Oddly enough, this time he complied with no remarks.

"Happy little accidents, as they call it," Satoru giggled and spread his arms. "You're safe. Don't mess around too much for a while though. I'm talking to the curse."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, all four, expressing the particular inconvenience of the request, but you knew he'd tone himself down for as long as necessary.

"I can't believe you convinced them for the second time," you fell back into the pillow, relieved.

"What can I say, I have a strong personal charm," Satoru bowed theatrically. "So, are you two together or do you just fuck?"

"We can discuss that some other time, right?"

"Oh yeah, right. Stay safe, kids!" Saying that, Gojo disappeared and none of you even made an attempt to address how he called the thousand years old king a kid.

You let out a deep breath — the one you held for god knows how long — and felt the stress finally taking its toll on you. An exhaustion, sleepiness, anxiety – all of those came crawling at you at once.

"You're so tensed up," Sukuna purred, placing a small kiss on the side of your neck and he wouldn’t say it, but you could tell from the way his body felt against yours, that the tension left him as well. "You can relax now."

"Right," you muttered, sighing and with the encouragement of his hand, you turned to his face and immediately met his lips. He kissed you like a starved man, with a hand on the back of your neck. Murmuring, you surrendered to his touch, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth, to forget about the cruel and cold world around you and to indulge in whatever that was that you had with Sukuna. “We can relax now.”

[lymtw]

Toji watching as you're being buttered up, sweet talked, and undressed with unfamiliar eyes, right in front of him.

His eyes don't waver from your face as you politely smile at the half drunk man on Toji's right side. The man is slurring on and on about how you're incredibly easy on the eyes, and how you stand out even in the minimal lighting of the bar, while you just laugh and try to leave the conversation by disengaging, but once again, you're roped into talking with the man when he asks if you're single.

You would have said no voluntarily, but the question clearly struck a nerve with Toji. His hand went to the small of your back, his palm circling the area slowly. It wasn't that he was insecure, he could tell you loved him from the million times you said it a day, but it was his secure claim on you.

You looked at Toji for the first time in a minute, meeting his blown pupils with attentive eyes. You could see how irked he was by this man continuing to hit on you, and you knew that Toji would get knuckles bloody if you didn't say what you knew in your heart.

You kept your eyes on his, like you were being let into his thoughts. He was dead serious, not a glimpse of light in his eyes. You didn't want him to feel this way, so in an attempt to bring the slightest amount of comfort, you put your hand on his, squeezing with reassurance. After a few seconds of silent communication, he nodded towards the man who awaited your response.

You leaned forward again and told the stranger that you were happily taken by the handsome devil sitting beside you, pointing your thumb in Toji's direction. Toji turned and gave the guy a once over, confidence cascading over him at knowing that if push came to shove, he could rock this guy's shit. His menacing demeanor radiated off of him, making the man obviously uncomfortable. He was now being sized up by someone with much colder eyes. He nervously nodded at Toji, the action not reciprocated by the latter.

The man leaned forward, like he was going to start talking to you again, so Toji turned his attention back to you. He didn't need to keep an eye on him because the man was blocked off by him. Now, if the douchebag were to walk over to your side it would be another story, but Toji would keep him in check until he tried.

You take a sip of your soda water, some of it seeping down the corner of your lip when you hear the man address you again. Toji was quick to wipe the liquid off your face with his thumb, suppressing a grin at the small "sorry", you muttered to him. You were clearly fed up with this man who just wouldn't let up. Toji could see it in the way your eyes rolled every time you had to lean forward and look past him to look at the stranger again. Your audible sigh was the last straw. No one as grimy as this mole rat looking man should have the power to ruin your time out.

Just as Toji turned to face the man again, he grabbed his belongings and stood up, getting lost in the crowd of people around you. Toji was vibrating with adrenaline, his heart pumping in his ears from holding himself back. He had to remind himself that he wasn't out alone anymore like he was used to be. The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared and cry because he decided to make a scene and rip someone's face off.

You on the other hand looked socially exhausted, your head down on the counter.

"Baby," Toji coos, leaning in so that you can hear him. "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" His hand goes to your head, his fingers running through your hair. "People see you, and they really can't help making assholes of themselves."

"I just wanna go home, Toji," you mumble, holding your hand out to receive the car keys. Instead, he takes your hand, pulling you up and onto your feet.

"Like hell. I'm driving." His hand is on your lower back as you step away from the bar. It goes down into the right butt pocket of your shorts, as he guides you through the crowd in search of the exit.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I'm sober as a nun, baby." He grins at the little giggle you let out. He knew it was your turn to drive home this time, but he just wanted to lift your mood again after that dickhead drained it.

—

"You were eating up that loser's attention, weren't you?" Toji asks, side eyeing you then looking back at the road.

"It was nice for two seconds," you respond, looking out the window. "It's always nice to be considered attractive by others."

"So, i'm chopped liver, huh?" He smirks, glancing at you again. You don't respond, so he decides to cool it with the jokes. "It feels good until you start getting unwanted attention. Don't let dumbasses like that make you uncomfortable, mama." Toji's hand goes to your thigh, three squeezes to the plush to comfort you, this time. "Was about to murder the man, but he ran away like a coward." He side eyes you when he hears that intoxicatingly sweet laugh again. "Oh, that's funny?" He asks, a smirk on his face.

"You're insane," you laugh.

"Don't act like you don't love it."

—

Once Toji pulls into the driveway of your house, he has his intentions clear in mind. He's gonna show you how much he appreciates you. After all, you deserve it for knowing him so well and putting up with him. It's incredible that you know when he's not okay, but also when he's having a really good day, just by looking into his eyes.

You both exit the car, Toji quickly catching up to you on the other side. His hands rest on your hips as you walk, causing you to turn around and look at him.

"Face forward or you'll crash," he says, as you near the front door of your house. He pulls out his copy of your house key, swiftly unlocking the door.

You're glad Toji has a spare to your house. Who knows how many times the door would have been replaced had you not given him one. You have a habit of taking long naps, and because of it, you quickly learned that if you leave his messages unanswered for too long, he will show up at your door and knock aggressively until you answer. There was always the 'next time i'm kicking it down by the third try' comment when you finally opened the door, so you gave him the spare to avoid that scenario.

You walk ahead to your bedroom as Toji secures your house. He locks the front door, shuts the windows, and pulls down the shades before meeting you in the room.

He leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, and allows his eyes to rake over your body as you lay there like a starfish with your limbs extended.

"You gonna make room for me or what?" He asks, walking into the room.

You cross your legs together and throw your arms over your face. "Is that enough space for you? Or should I roll onto the floor to make more room?"

"Uh-uh. Nah, baby." Toji chuckles, reaching the end of your bed. He crawls towards you, effortlessly pulling your legs apart. "You're not gonna try this attitude with me. I haven't done anything to you, so put the brat away before I do it for you."

Your heart races at the threat, and you wonder if it's real, so you spare a glance at him from beneath your forearm. Contrary to his stern words, his hands are touching your skin so delicately. His fingers trace the harsh indentations the straps of your high heel left above your ankle.

"The cost of looking so fine all the time," he mutters, under his breath. You reacted like a child, only wincing at the pain once Toji paid attention to it. You didn't spare a second thought when you undid the buckles on your heels, opting to throw yourself on the bed immediately after they were off, but suddenly you needed Toji to make it stop hurting.

Toji kisses the damage, his hand wrapped around your ankle, loosely. "My own little shard of heaven," he hums into your skin. Your arms fell beside you on the bed as you admired the image before you—Toji's very high functioning attempt at healing you.

It was a welcome change, compared to the usual effect he had on you. Being Toji's lover turned you into a flammable substance, and he ignited you. He did everything he could to make his touch your greatest weakness, and now flames rise within you every time his hands meet your skin. Your body emanates heat when he trains your flammability with lingering touches.

This time was much different.

He was the chemical that put out forest fires, he was a breath blowing out a candle, he was soothing water.

He moves up your body, his lips trailing your shin before reaching your knee. His gaze meets your twinkling one. If he looks long enough, he can locate stars in your eyes. It's something that motivates him to keep going.

He takes up the space between your legs, his hand hooked into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers fiddle with the metal button and quickly undo it, pulling the zipper down before he leans forward to kiss you. You can feel the button to his jeans on your stomach, the warm metal heating up even more as it rubbed against your skin.

He chuckles, holding himself above you. "Feeling it, too, huh?"

You run your hands up his chest and the sides of his neck, before going up one more time to cup his face. You pull him closer, allowing your lips to lock with his again. Toji could tell you wanted to devour him by the way you held onto him so tight. Your hands balled up the back of his shirt into your fists, your thighs squeezing his hips.

He breaks the kiss, looking straight into your dilated pupils while you catch your breath. It was precious seeing you this way, so needy that your body started reacting on it's own. "You know, i'm always feeling you, princess," he murmurs to you, his face inches away from yours. "Want you all the time... It's almost ridiculous how often I think of fucking you." His lips press to the corner of your lips, tracing your jawline afterwards. "I say almost ridiculous because..." his lips go further, now beneath your ear, "it's my business, and I don't care."

You giggle at his attitude, your eyes shut as you thread your fingers through his hair. His breath reaches your earlobe, bringing goosebumps to your skin. "You don't care?" You repeat.

His eyes are lidded when he leans back to look at you again. "Not one fuck is spared for anything but you, ma." His hands go down to the bare skin your unbuttoned shorts revealed, feeling up the soft warmth of your waist. You squirm slightly at the roughness of his hands combined with his lustful gaze on you.

"I've got my eyes on you anytime you're in a room, got that?" He says, bowing down to kiss below your bellybutton. He looks at you through his lashes, seeing the small nod you respond with. "Do you get it or not?" He murmurs into your skin. "Gotta give me more, pretty girl."

"I know," you respond, propping yourself on your elbows to nervously meet his green eyes.

"Good. You don't take shit from anyone but me. Am I clear?"

You laugh, letting yourself fall back on the bed again. Your sudden fit of laughter brings a smirk onto Toji's face as he continues to kiss your lower body. You compose yourself, before responding to his question. "Only you, Toji."

"Mhm," he hums, his lips grazing the lace trimming of your panties. You lift your hips to let him roll the material of your shorts and underwear down. Your legs come up to kick them off. Toji sighs, "I know you wouldn't do me dirty, ever. You're too sweet. Practically incapable, mama." Your thighs became victims to his lips. Your delicate skin gained bright red blotches in uneven patterns, an act of worship from your lover.

You knew Toji this way—dominant and possessive. This was just the start, but even if he were to only mark up your lower body, you both know they're there. You'll think of him when you change your clothes, and if you don't mind them, a simple look in that direction from Toji will remind you.

"So wet, already." He can see the glistening of your arousal coated folds. "I've only been teasing you... and you're already this wet?" It's a rhetorical question. The sight has Toji practically zoning out, almost missing the flush on your cheeks from all the attention.

"Toji..." you whine, embarrased by the amusement he finds as he keeps observing you.

"Bless you, mama," he mutters, bringing his hands towards your cunt. The tip of his middle finger is the first part of him to make contact with your pussy. He glides it up and down once to see how much of your slick he can collect. You shudder at the contact, a sharp inhale lured from you.

"See that?" He holds his hand up, showing you the shiny coat on his middle finger. You look and in a split second you see him commit a heinous act, popping the finger into his mouth to suck off your juice.

"Jesus, Toji," you put your arms over your face again to hide the furious blush that ambushed it.

"Acting all disturbed when you know i'm about to put my mouth all over your pretty pussy."

You're in no place to argue when you know he's right, so you peek at him until you feel your nerves subside a little more.

"It's so perfect. Almost don't wanna make you cum." He stares at your glossy cunt, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet your flustered expression.

Your heart sinks. Toji was good at maneuvering his tongue. He's made you cum more times than you can count using just the muscle, so him telling you that you possibly weren't being given that option this time scared you a little.

"Could stay here forever... between these very pretty thighs." His hand caresses your one of them, his fingers splaying on it before squeezing the plush. "Say you'll let me edge you for hours, darling." He's asking out of courtesy. If he really wants to do it, there's no need to ask for permission.

"Toji," you laugh, dropping the smile when you don't see him laughing. "Please, no." You prop yourself on your elbows again, looking down at him.

"It'll be so good. Don't even worry your pretty little head." His hand presses against your stomach, signaling for you to lie down again. He goes back down, his gaze on your cunt again. He blows on it, watching you squirm at the gentle sensation. Something about the reactions makes him chuckle, lowly. You were so weak for him, you wouldn't last five minutes. With that in mind, his tongue peeks out, testing your reaction to it against your clit. Your hips push back against the mattress when the warmth meets you.

"Stay still," he says, before trying again. The tip of his tongue glides up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a tremble from your thighs. He smirks to himself at the sound of your quiet breaths. Another stripe is traced between your folds, a more audible moan leaving you. Your thighs falter in their ability to stay open.

"What did I just say, ma? Stay still." He pries your legs open again and hooks his arms around your thighs. Won't tell you again. I'll bring out the rope next time you interrupt me."

"I-I can't do this, Toji," you say, your nervousness clear in your gaze.

"You've barely given me a chance, and you're already a nervous wreck?" He kisses your thigh, the act somewhat settling your nerves. "Just wanna play with you... and ruin you..." Toji can feel his cock throbbing more with every second that he holds back from devouring you. "...and make you cry from how bad you wanna cum. That too much to ask for?"

"N-No, I guess no-"

"Good," he cuts you off, a grin on his face. "Just lay there and look pretty. Take everything with grace like the good girl I know you are."

You sigh, not prepared for the next couple hours you would have to withstand.

—

"Wanna cum?" Toji asks for the nth time that night, a twisted smile on his face while he steadily curls two fingers inside of you. Your legs tremble in your mind fucked daze, your cunt messily covered in slick and Toji's saliva. You know the answer he's gonna give you and yet you still respond with the remaining ability you have to think.

"P-Please..." you hiccup, a fresh stream of tears falling down your cheeks to accumulate with the ones that already dried. "Can I?" you attempt to sit up, your abdomen trembling as you bend slightly before falling back. "Please, Toji?" Your chest caves in with a deep breath as you try to suppress a sob.

"No," he simply says, slowly pulling his fingers out of your pulsing cunt. With all the slick that webbed onto them, he was sure you would cum so quickly if he didn't manage his pace. He sighs, fascinated by the texture of the sticky fluid on his fingers. "Poor thing," he coos, as if his boxers aren't drenched with a significant amount of precum. "You look angelic when you cry for me." His hand strokes your thigh while he peppers kisses onto the other one.

You breathe shakily when you feel his hand getting close to your pussy again. "Ready to go again?" He asks, a sly grin on his face when he meets your glossy eyes.

"Toji..." you swallow, shaking as he narrows his focus on your ruined cunt.

"Hm?" He hums, dizzy on his own obsession with making you beg for something he doesn't want to give you just yet.

"Please, I can't wait anymore. You're killing me."

Toji didn't mean to take it this far, at first. He solely intended to make you feel loved after seeing the switch in your demeanor at the bar. He was gonna kiss up your body and whisper his favorite things about you while he made love to you. Then he was between your legs and you were looking down at him with that warmth in your eyes, visually proving that you loved him to death, so he decided it was best to break you instead. He had to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"You can handle it. You're my good girl, and you know this gets me off, so you're gonna take it, right?"

Once again, you're left with no chance of refusing. What's another while of not being able to cum?

—

Toji was lapping at your cunt like you were fading away and he would never get to taste you again. He was relentless with your clit, pointing his tongue in order to abuse it with precision.

"A-Ah, fuck...Toji," you whimpered. "Please... please, Toji, please. Can I..."

"Mmm..." Toji hums, sucking on your clit. He's ignoring your pleas for mercy, too enveloped in your sweetness to think about your aching need to cum. He knows you want it, and little do you know that he's getting it to you.

"Wanna cum, baby?" He asks you one more time, his middle finger teasing your entrance.

"Uh-huh."

"Use your words, mama. Try that again." It doesn't help that he's thumbing at your clit, rubbing slowly, causing you to stutter and your thoughts to fall through.

"Y-Yes, please," you respond, shuddering afterwards. "Please, make me cum."

His fingers reentered you, immediately curling and abusing the sensitive spot hidden within you. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it with that devilish pointed tongue. You were completely ruined by the time you came. Toji pulled his fingers out of you, in favor making out of with your pussy, his lips gliding up and down your slit as you vibrated beneath him. You fisted the sheets beneath you, loud, broken moans leaving you as wave after wave of pleasure was inflicted onto your core.

"T-Toji!" You moaned, whimpering as he continued to devour you. Your juices covered the lower half of his face, dripping down his chin, and onto the collar of his shirt. Your thighs clamped around his head and your hand pulled at his dark locks as you rolled your hips against his face until you couldn't stand it anymore. "Oh god... oh fuck!" you pant. "N-No more, no more, Toji." Your thighs are shut tightly around his head, barely working to get him to stop.

He unlatches from your clit with a pop, his hands coming up to pull your thighs apart. You look at him through heavy, lidded eyes. His lips are glossy with your cum on them, his chin was dripping in it as well. After a minute of just listening to your heavy breathing, Toji climbs up your body again, your sensitive cunt twitching at the feeling of his jeans brushing up against it. His hands go to the sides of your head, sparing him stability so he lean down and kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue as the flavor is distributed between your mouths.

He breaks the kiss, his face still inches away from yours. "You taste that, right?"

"Mhm," you mumble, lightheaded from your lack of breath.

"I can have that taste in my mouth whenever I want. Aren't you jealous?"

"Mm... no, 'cause you can always share it with me. Put some of it on my tongue. Some mouth to mouth action..." you spare a lazy grin for Toji

He chuckles. "That was a once in a lifetime thing, doll. I'm all for sharing anything with you, but that's all for me."

[wileys-russo]

aitana bonmatí “but you always do it”, locker room

you can do it II a.bonmatí

"looking a little worse for wear there amiga." you sent a side eye to mapi who held her hands up in defence with a whistle at the withering glare, slinking away to go bother someone else.

"ay chica why is your girl so grumpy?" patri chuckled to aitana watching the interaction, the huffs and glares sent by you to anyone who came within five feet of you incredibly out of character.

"do not ask." aitana sighed knowing full well why you were being so stand offish, having kept her distance all morning and walking on egg shells with every interaction.

"what did you do tana?" frido grinned from on her other side with a raised eyebrow as the girl laced up her boots and frowned. "nothing! she is not angry, she is tired." aitana sighed with a roll of her eyes.

"i will ask again, what did you do?" frido laughed as the shorter girl bumper her shoulder into the swede's. "nothing. we got a puppy, sí?" the midfielder started to explain as both patri and frido nodded, everyone having been fighting for days now to come and meet your new fur baby.

"well, she has been trying to crate train him but it is not going well." your girlfriend sighed, watching with a wince as you struggled to get your boots on, grumbling in annoyance to yourself under your breath.

"he just cries and cries until she sits beside the crate or lets him out. so she has barely been sleeping but she will not listen to me about ignoring him crying so he learns she will not come every time!" the brunette explained with a roll of her eyes as the girls either side of her hummed in understanding.

"ah, so it is your fault." patri hummed as frido agreed and the shorter girl looked at them both in bewilderment. "no! it is her fault for not listening to me and listening to the dog instead." aitana huffed pulling her socks up.

"sure tana, go tell your girlfriend that. i am sure that will improve her mood!" frido chuckled, squeezing her shoulder as she and patri stood to leave the locker room, most of the girls having already filed out to the pitch for training.

watching you on your phone as you were now ready for training aitana sighed knowing you were likely watching the puppy camera you'd insisted on having installed so in the brief times neither of you weren't home you could keep an eye on your new fur baby, and you'd even sprung for the more expensive one which allowed you to speak to it through an app.

grabbing her hairbrush and an elastic you looked up as aitana sat down beside you, a hopeful smile on her face as you spied the objects in her hand.

"tana por favor i am too tired, do it yourself or ask ingrid." you sighed, clicking off your phone and dumping it in your bag as you rubbed your eyes.

"but you always do it." the brunette pushed gently, knocking her knee against yours and smiling softly as you shook your head, face buried in your hands. "not today amor."

"lo sé cari, i know you are tired i heard you get up and down and up and down and-" aitana shut up the moment your eyes glared at her, grinning apologetically.

"if you heard me so many times the you could have gotten up and helped aitana." your girlfriend winced at the use of her full name, something that rarely left your lips and only further cemented your bad mood today.

"lo siento mi amor. how about tonight i will be on puppy duty?" she offered as you gave her a suspicious look. "really?" you questioned, your girlfriend never having offered before not that you'd really asked given the dog was mostly your idea anyway.

"but. i will be doing it my way bebé, he needs to learn that just because he cries you will not go running to him every time or else he will not adjust to the crate, no?" she spoke firmly but softly as you sighed and nodded, knowing even if you'd struggled to do so that she was right.

"perfecto. so tonight i will sleep downstairs in the spare room, i will put el perrito in his crate just outside the door and you will get a good nights sleep. vale?" your girlfriend raised an eyebrow as you nodded, aitana relaxing as a small smile graced your features.

"vale. muchas gracias mi vida." you leaned in to peck her lips sweetly a few times before tugging the hairbrush and elastic from her hand, chuckling as within seconds she was sat expectantly on the floor between your legs ready for you to braid her hair.

"now if only el perrito was as well trained as you tana." "amor!"

[ham1lton]

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven

“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 

Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 

Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 

“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 

“What happened?” Oscar asks. 

“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 

+++

“Lan?” “Yeah?”

“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 

“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”

“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 

“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 

“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 

“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”

Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 

“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 

You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.

“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 

“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 

“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 

“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”

Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 

“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”

With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 

He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 

+++

“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”

Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 

“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 

“But.”

“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 

Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 

“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 

He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 

Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 

“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 

“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.

“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.

When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 

You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 

“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 

“Why?” You ask him. 

“Because we’re going to talk.”

“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”

“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”

You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.

The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 

The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 

It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 

“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 

He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 

Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 

“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 

“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.

“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 

“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.

“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 

“Yes,” you agree with him.

“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.

“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”

Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 

“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 

“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 

“You,” Lando chuckles. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 

“Lan,” you softly speak up. 

“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”

“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?

“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 

“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”

You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.

After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…

“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 

You only show him a small nod. 

“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 

“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”

“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”

“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 

“Hope?” He asks confused.

“Hope that you like me back.”

Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 

“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 

Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 

When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 

You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 

“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 

“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 

“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 

+++

The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 

“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 

You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.

Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 

“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”

“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 

“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 

Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”

Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.

“Okay.”

a/n;

that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story

i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses

☆word count: 1.1k

☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.

They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.

“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.

“What?” he lets out.

“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.

“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”

Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.

But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.

“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”

Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?

“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.

“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”

“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”

Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.

So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.

Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.

His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.

Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.

Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 

You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.

It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.

His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.

Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.

You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.

“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.

You are… Taehyung’s sister.

You’re Y/n.

His best friend’s little sister.

The one thing Jungkook can’t have.

It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 

“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.

And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.

Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.

You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.

“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.

Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.

“Yes, please!”

Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.

Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”

And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.

How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 

He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

☆☆☆☆☆

Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!

What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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