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#sorry non of them are the buried
bornetoblood · 2 years
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The Magnus Archives as Bloodborne characters, or Bloodborne characters in the Magnus Archive?
Away from my drawing tablet so I’m just gonna assign Bloodborne Characters fear entities Cus they pretty much take place in the same universe anyway. (I could give a lot of them multiple but the fears can have loose definitions regardless and this is just for fun).
The Good Hunter: Probably assumes an archivist-esc role, they see so much scary shit on their trip through Yharnam I find the “living catalogue of fear” thing quite apt. Also they get that yummy yummy insight. Watcher.
The Doll: The Stranger but only by proxy. She just wants to help out they’re just a little uncanny while they’re doing it. Kinda strengthened by the idea that her and Lady M share a soul.
Gehrman: Used to be an INFAMOUS Hunt guy before he got so sad he started slipping into the Lonely every week (basically the Hunter’s Dream).
Laurence: “I am a conduit of the Ceaseless Watcher.” He is LYING! That man REEKS of the SLAUGHTER. It’s the institutionalised violence and Choir motif.
Micolash: Little Distortion man- winding paths and funny mirrors and insanity. Flirted with the Flesh while making all those leg werewolves and the One Reborn.
Rom: Web. She deliberately hides information and holds back the bloodmoon without anyone knowing. Also she is a spider.
Lady Maria: A beautiful Hunt and Desolation meld. She hates both of them but they are in her. Only draws on their powers when she absolutely has to.
St Adeline: I wanna say the Vast. The wiiide open sea. Feeling minuscule in the face of the Cosmos. She’s pretty close the Lonely too but I feel like they intersect a lot in general.
Ludwig: Just a little bit of the Hunt and the Slaughter but he’s mostly a normal guy I think. It’s his sword that’s a Spiral manifestation. Dancing lights and empty promises.
Simon: Gonna go with the End on this one, but only slightly. He wants to stop the cycle of the Hunter’s Nightmare.
Brador: Actually gonna go with the Corruption for him in the sense that the Corruption is decay. But you KNOW that beast hide has all sorts of creepy crawlies in it.
Eileen: The End but merciful. She uses her power to mercy kill people who have fallen to far into other entities. A very neutral party.
Djura: Ex-desolation member. Sacrificed his eye while protecting Old Yharnam and managed to get out of serving the Lightless Flame. Now he just hangs out with the beasts and looks after them.
Caryll: Actual proper Eye avatar here but they only use their power to draw funny runes and figure out how to talk to the Great Ones.
Valtr: Not connected to any entity really he just DESPISES the Corruption and will kill those centipedes at any cost.
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cryolyst · 2 months
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#they speak!#it's probably just the illness that's making me extra irritable but like.#roommate kept coming up to me this morning going oh did i wake you up? i'm sorry if i did. did i do that or no? i'm really sorry.#and i kept telling him to stop saying sorry because i didn't have the brain power to phrase#'you could've been more considerate of your volume but you also have the right to use the common space so it's whatever'#but he said it to me again before i went to my room just now and it's like. ok. shut up.#if you actually cared that much u would've just been quieter in the first place actually.#anyways. annoyed. there were some annoying customers in the store today but it was whatever.#i feel like my fucks to give had already worn out with all the ppl in my social circle/my parents and the recent ongoings of that#[redacted] was being passive aggressive to me in the group chat and it's like. ok! idk what u want from me.#and i'm grateful for them for coming over and helping me with cleaning last week#and it's those sorts of actions that let me know they care and want good things for me#but like. i haaaate telling them anything because even innocuous non-private things get turned into judgement with them.#also. more and more i can feel how i'm drifting away from h and now with retrospect i can see how we mutually hurt each other :)#i keep coming back to this one period where i really wanted to take them to try dimsum and they kept saying they were too scared to try it#and in their new friend group they regularly go out n get dimsum together. which on the surface is like. why didn't you want to go with /me#i told you i wanted to share what i liked and i would explain what things were and i could do the talking and you still said no#but it's also very much a reflection of how i always rolled over and enabled them. i never challenged them. i was always passive.#i also feel like i'm heavily neglecting e and a recently and i can tell how the physical distance is affecting us and idk. it's weird.#anyways. another post that should've been a journal entry! lol!#when [redacted] helped with cleaning they also buried my journal under my like#300 packets of sesame candies and i can't be bothered to dig it out. also my bandaids are missing now. <3#ik this also sounds passive aggressive but genuinely appreciate the help i just kinda hate how they think hidin everything in boxes is good#'we need to get you some more storage boxes and containers!!' actually i think that will be the opposite of helpful.#i need everything visible and on open surfaces so i can 1) remember they exist for me to use and 2) not have barriers for me to get to them
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murdrdocs · 1 month
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go about things the wrong way
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description. LOGAN HOWLETT proves himself to be a bit of a hypocrite
includes. SMUT 18+, age gap (reader is implied to be mid20s, logan assumed to be mid30s), protected piv, denial is a river in egypt logan fucks them younger, logan calls reader "kid", insomnia trope, slightly brat reader, remnants of angst, set during early x-men
wc. 5k
a/n: photo creds unknown. title from how soon is now? by the smiths
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You should be in your own bedroom. 
It’s a nice room, decorated better than your childhood room in your parent’s house, likely because you’ve grown since your mint green and chevron phase. It’s silent in your room, no other inhabitants except you and your pet fish that was somehow still hanging on. There’s no reason for you to leave your room, it has everything you need. But it’s not right. 
The loneliness is uncomfortable amidst your inability to sleep. It hovers over your bed, staring down at your shuffling frame as you try multiple positions, each one leaving you as restless as the last. You know that’s why you venture off to the kitchen, the search for companionship outweighing the desire for a treat. You just need to talk to someone, remind yourself that you aren’t all alone. There are other people like you, and you live with them. You’re safe. 
You ended up finding what you desired—a non-freezer burnt ice cream bar buried beneath frozen waffles, and a warm body to stand opposite of as you steadily made your way through it. 
You wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, maybe not even yourself, but you had hoped to run into Logan the entire time. Ever since his return you had been itching to get a glimpse of him, but between shadowing Storm, Scott, and Jean, and tending to whatever menial chore Professor Xavier tasked you with, you didn’t have any time for run-ins. Nothing but quick passing in the hallway where you were too shy to do much other than meet his eye for a second, wave, and then scurry along towards the end of the hallway. 
But you had gotten what you wanted when you heard the soft thud of feet followed by the sound of Logan speaking. 
“Is there another one of those?” 
You face him with your mouth stuffed with ice cream. It takes you a second to chew enough to speak around the food without making a complete fool of yourself in front of Logan. 
“This is the last one …” you swallow, ignoring the sting of the cold at the back of your throat. “Sorry.”
Logan shrugs like it’s no big deal and he steps to the fridge. You move out of the way, even though you weren’t really in the way at all, and try to be casual as you chew the remains of your bar, ignoring the sudden warmth in your body now that he’s here. 
Logan doesn’t say anything. You watch the top half of his body disappear as he reaches into the fridge for something, coming out after a minute and some soft shuffling later with a beer bottle in his hand. You don’t know when it got there, and you’re amazed that it was still there and not stolen by some eager teenager. You try not to stare as he takes his first sip, but you sneak a few glances. 
You finish your sandwich, throwing the wrapper out in the drawer trash can and trying your best to ignore Logan’s eyes on you the entire time. He gets halfway through his beer before he says something. 
Leaning against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle and one arm tucked across his chest, he asks, “Can’t sleep, right?”
You nod, not shocked at all that he has you pegged. It’s not unsurprising for a mutant in this place to be unable to sleep. 
Logan nods as if he understands and you know he does, you remember the incident with Rogue just a year or so ago, that and the stories you hear about him wandering the halls at night. It’s why you’d always been so eager to slip down here during restless nights, constantly hoping that this would happen to you. 
And now that it has happened, you don’t know what to do. There’s not much for you to discuss with Logan, the two of you don’t have all that much in common. He’s far older than you, for starters, at least a decade and a half on you from what you’ve gathered. He’s been gone for a while, but you think the others have caught him up on everything that he’s missed already. 
So you just build onto what you have. 
“I just can’t fall asleep. Every time I start, I shake myself awake.” 
Logan takes a swig from his beer and pulls his lips tight, a face of sympathy sliding over his features—eyebrows pinched, lips downturned, eyes a little narrowed. 
“Yeah?” You nod your head. “Sounds horrible, kid.”
Kid. You know you’re younger than him, it’s obvious, but you’re not a kid. You don’t see why he thinks of you that way. Rogue and Bobby are kids and you’re older than them. More mature, no longer a student but now practically a teacher. 
You don’t want Logan to see you as a kid. You know what you want him to see you as, but it seems to become more and more impossible by the day. 
You don’t say anything, lifting your foot enough to press the toe of your slippers into the cleaned grout between the tiles at your feet. 
“Tell you what,” he begins, promoting your head to lift, “next time that happens to you, you come find me, alright? I know how much it sucks to be alone like that so if you need me, come find me.”
That’s what you did. 
After you left the kitchen, finally letting your grin break free since no one was around to see it during the trek back to your room, you told yourself you would only go to Logan if you needed him. 
You tried to sleep, snuggling yourself in a cocoon of blankets and pillows around your head. You lit a candle, counted sheep, made up scenarios to doze off (ones that definitely didn’t involve Logan tenderly holding your hand and stroking your cheek and—), but nothing seemed to work. 
So you found yourself standing in the doorway of Logan’s bedroom, one hand still on the doorknob and the other toying with a loose thread at the bottom of your tee shirt. The bedroom is dark, save for the moonlight peeking through his opened curtains, but from the hallway light behind your back you can see Logan’s frame under the sheets. 
His back faces you until you harshly whisper his name, which at the call of he lifts his head, looking at you, and then rolls over completely to click the lamp on his nightstand on. 
“What’s wrong, kid?”
You feel so meek when you explain, like you are a kid, crawling to your parents after a nightmare. 
“You told me to come find you.”
His squint relaxes. His entire frame relaxes actually. He sits up, jerking his head in a beckon. You click the door shut behind you as softly as you can, approaching the bed timidly until you stand on the other side. 
And then you just hover. You stand there hesitantly, staring down at the slightly unmade side of the bed. Logan doesn’t say anything for a minute, but once the silence and hesitance stretches to an uncomfortable end, he speaks up, his voice groggier and raspier than it was before. 
“You gonna sleep from there? Is that some mutant power that I didn’t know about?” He says it like he’s teasing you, and when you look at him you can see the small smile on his lips. It’s similar to the one he sports when he’s messing with Scott but with more softness in his eyes. 
You scoff, trying to play it cool when Logan lifts the sheets for you and you climb under them. This side of the bed is cold and unused and you wonder if you’re the first person to use it. 
You get as comfortable as you possibly can. You fluff the pillow and create the perfect indent for your head, you pull the sheets up to your shoulders, you lay on your side and face the window, and then when Logan clicks the light off, you close your eyes and try to sleep. 
You don’t know how you thought this would be any better than struggling to sleep in your own bed, because it’s so much worse. 
In your own bed, you were left with the out-of-reach fantasies of Logan. You laid in bed, giggling to yourself as you imagined what it would be like to lay next to Logan. You filled your head with blurry images of Logan’s frame, what he would look like with his eyes closed and his face completely relaxed. You tried to imagine the heat of his body in the cold of your room, trying to change your body temperature just with a thought. 
But now it’s all right beside you, left there for you to catalogue so you could never forget this moment. 
The feeling of his body so close yet so far from yours. The sound of his breathing. The smell of his body wash and the way it lingered on his sheets. You’re finally in Logan’s bedroom, but you’re not getting what you want. You truly don’t think you ever will. 
It’s impossible for you to sleep now. You try to keep your tossing and turning to a minimum, only moving when absolutely necessary and doing so with tentativeness. You’re trying to be meticulous with your movements, all with a goal to disturb Logan as little as possible. You’re a guest here, after all. 
But even if he wasn’t an attentive mutant you knew he would’ve eventually gotten fed up. 
He calls your name, soft yet sounding like a warning, and you’re quick to apologize. 
He doesn’t say anything else for a second, then, “Whatever’s on your mind, squash it. Jus’ let it go.”
You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do when you say, “Easier said than done.”
Logan shifts and turns around until he’s facing you. You stay facing the window. 
“What usually turns your mind off?” he asks. “A glass of warm milk?” 
When you laugh it’s halfhearted and maybe this is the final indicator that something about you is off. 
“Look at me.” You obey embarrassingly quickly. 
You can’t really see him in the dark, but the white light from outside illuminates the slope of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. You can sort of see his eyes too, the usually light green darker because of the environment, but the shadowy fan of his eyelashes is as distinct as usual. 
“Seriously, tell me what’s going on. Anything I can help you with?” He lets the question linger in the air for a second before adding on. “You need me to rough a few kids up? You being bullied?” He says it like a joke.
“No,” you say. 
Logan makes an ‘ah’ sound. “Yeah I’m sure you could handle yourself.” The sheets lift again. “Come ‘ere.”
Shit, shit, shit. 
You listen to him, scooting closer until you’re wrapped in Logan’s arms, enveloped in his warmth. It’s nice and comfortable, the sound of Logan’s heart right next to your ear, the security of his arms wrapped around your frame. 
“Does this help you?”
You hum affirmatively, already starting to feel more comfortable than you had before. Your heart beats painfully hard in your chest and you start to get self-conscious, knowing that Logan can definitely hear it.
Right on cue, he laughs a bit against your head. 
“Nervous?”
“No.” God, you’re so obvious. 
Logan’s laugh grows until he’s snickering, doing a terrible job of stifling his laughter. “‘s alright,” he eventually says. “Nothing wrong with that.”
You make yourself as comfortable as possible, pressing your back to Logan’s chest, trying to ignore the hard feeling of his body behind you. You can basically feel everything, the plane of his chest pushing through his tee, the ridge of his sweatpants against your lower back, his legs against yours—tempting you to intertwine them together, his feet hanging right under yours. You’re not exactly dressed for this and your shirt has ridden up, bunched at the top of your ass and exposing your panties. You wonder if he knows. You wonder if he cares. 
This is helping you a lot, but there’s still something on your mind. Something you need to solve before you can go off to sleep. 
You don’t know what it is that makes you confident, that makes you want to ruin a good moment. Maybe it’s the dark providing you comfort, but you lay it all out. 
“You treat me like a kid.”
Logan takes a second. You can just barely make out the hitch in his voice. “...Yeah?”
You’re glad he can’t see you when you pout. It wouldn’t have done much to help your case. “I’m not a kid, Logan. You don’t treat Rogue like a kid.”
“Rogue is different.”
“How? I’m older than her.”
“Just … can we not argue?”
“We’re not arguing.”
“Yeah? Then whaddya call this?”
“A conversation between two adults.”
He hums as if he’s unconvinced. 
You won’t let it go. “How is Rogue different?”
“Go to sleep,” he admonishes.
“Can’t. Not until you answer my question.”
Logan sighs. “‘cause I’m not attracted to her, alright?”
Oh. 
Oh. 
Wait … what?
You’re sure your silence is enough to express your confusion because Logan adds on. 
“I’m trying to set boundaries between us, kid—”
“Don’t call me that.”
He corrects himself with the use of your name instead, but it comes out the same way. “We need boundaries between the two of us. You think I don’t see how you look at me? ‘s not good.”
“If you’re setting boundaries why did you invite me in here.”
“Because I wanted to help you.”
Why is he making you feel crazy? He just told you he’s attracted to you, but he wants to set boundaries? There are barely any boundaries here. You’re alone with him, in his bedroom, tucked away at the end of the hall surrounded by mostly empty bedrooms instead of bedrooms of asleep mutants, curled up against his chest. This is the most opportune time, yet he didn’t want to make a move.
Maybe you were reading too much into it. 
You go to pull away from Logan’s embrace but he keeps you pulled tight to his chest. 
“Don’t do that,” he says it like a command and just to piss him off you consider pulling away. But you’re really comfortable and this is a comfort you aren’t sure you’re ever going to find again. 
“Just go to sleep, alright,” he says your name again, much softer this time. He says it like he’s coaxing you like your name is the final tune in a lullaby. 
Maybe Logan has other powers you aren’t aware of because just that one sentence is enough for you to let it go and submit to the sudden exhaustion that settles over your body like a weighted blanket. 
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You don’t know if Logan’s been avoiding you. Mostly because you’ve been avoiding him.
It’s not often that the two of you would have to run into each other, but there were a few times when Professor Xavier extended the invitation to observe an upcoming class, and you declined upon learning that Logan would be subbing. 
You kept your distance as much as you could, even keeping yourself locked up in your bedroom throughout the night, no matter how restless you got. You were miserable, not only because you wanted to be near Logan, but because you were fucking exhausted. 
You could barely stay awake throughout the day, always sneaking off for power naps, taking whatever you could get even if it was only five minutes. 
But you finally have the rest of the afternoon to yourself and you intend to use it to sleep. Uncaring of how much it threw off your sleep schedule, you just needed a solid half hour curled up at the foot of your made bed like a dog, sleeping to your heart's content. 
Of course, it’s on your way up to your room that you run into Logan. You try to ignore him, continuing your path up the stairs, praying that Logan will continue on his path downstairs. 
You don’t know what it is about you that says come talk to me! but Logan stops in his journey, turning to face you. He calls your name, continuing even when you don’t respond. He follows your trek up the stairs and down the hallway, always right on your heels and within arm's reach. 
By the time your hand reaches for your bedroom door, Logan is practically breathing down your neck. 
You know there’s no avoiding him now, but you also don’t want to. 
You stand still, hand wrapped around the doorknob, waiting for Logan to say his piece. 
“Why’d you lead me to your bedroom?” The way he says it, with such arrogance and assurance woven into that same joking manner as if he wasn’t the one who turned you down just a few nights ago. 
“Fuck off, Logan. I just wanna get some sleep.”
You twist the knob and this is what wakes Logan up. “Okay, wait.” His hand reaches out and rests on your elbow. Just this one touch strikes you still. “Will you look at me?”
You turn around, trying to keep your gaze hard even as you take in his appearance for the first time in days. 
The bags under his eyes, the relaxed smile that’s constantly on his face when he’s around you, the thickness of his eyebrows, the points in his hair. You’re staring at his hair, wondering if it’s naturally like that or if he does it himself, and when you look at his eyes again there isn’t a connection. He’s staring at your lips instead. 
You lift your eyebrows impatiently, already imagining the sleep you’ll get after you ruminate until you can’t form a coherent thought. 
Logan opens his mouth. “Look, I’m sorry if you got a little hurt from the other night. Is just this age gap and your little crush is not gonna wor—”
You’re already turning around, deciding whatever else he’s going to say isn’t important at all, but Logan stops you. His movements are fluid, they flow naturally from his body and straight into yours, causing you to move with a coordination you didn’t expect. He spins you back around and pulls you straight to his chest, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself, while his hands rest on your hips and your cheek. 
The movement is quick, it happens within a couple of seconds, and it makes the moment after feel so much longer. Nothing but shared blinks as Logan looks at your lips and you look at his. You’re so close to him, even closer than you were the other night, but neither of you makes a move. 
You’re considering making the first move, opening your mouth as if to ask him a question that was still unknown to you, but then Logan’s grip on your cheek tightens as if he’s holding you still and he moves in closer, and closer, and closer until his lips ghost over yours. 
In the end, it’s you who crosses the bridge. 
Your lips touch, sandwiched together, but neither of you do anything. Not until you take a tiny step closer, really nothing but an adjustment of your feet, is Logan pulling you into him. He digs his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, that one hand possessing all of the aggression that doesn’t exist in the hand holding your cheek. 
It’s like the touch of two different men—one who wants to devour you whole and the other who wants to treasure you. You hope that they’re able to coexist as you desperately want both. 
You let Logan kiss you feverishly, an intensity unlike anything you’ve ever seen him display settling in his lips. The Logan you knew was always relaxed, walking around the mansion with a carefree, practically laissez-faire, attitude. He didn’t meddle, he kept his hands to himself, always wrapped around a cigar or a beer. 
But now those hands were wrapped around you for the second time this week. 
You press your hands into the shoulder of his white tee shirt, starting to slide them up towards his hair before you resist. You want to get comfortable kissing him, but you’re still out in the hallway. 
Having the same thought, Logan pulls away from your lips with enough time to open the door, latch his hands onto your hips, and blindly steer you backward until you’re in the room. He stares down at you the entire time, that same smirk on his lips as he kicks the door closed behind him with a single boot. 
And then he has you pressed against the wood, sandwiched between a rock and a hard place. 
He looks at you for a second, his gaze lingering, and then he gets back to it. 
If even possible, Logan has more passion this time around. He sinks his hands to your thighs, pulling one up by his hip. He slots his legs into the opening until your center is hovering over his thigh. You don’t know what to expect, but when he flexes the muscle and presses his limb right up against you, you’re already trying to get more. 
Logan smiles as he kisses you, clearly entertained by your anguished need to get off. He doesn’t verbally reassure you, he doesn’t help you grind yourself down, he doesn’t do anything but continue kissing you. 
When you need to come up for air, knocking your head back into mahogany as you intake large gulps, Logan dips his head down and explores as much skin as he can. He creates a path of kisses from your jaw, down your neck, to the exposed parts of your chest. 
You tilt your head down, locking your hand into his hair and trying to redirect his lips back to yours, but he stops you with a hand pinching your cheeks. 
His eyes flick back and forth between yours, nothing but mischief and arrogance in the green. You wrap a hand around his wrist with the initial want to tug him away, but you like the hold he has you in. You like the look in his eyes. 
“Good?” His voice is softer than his grip. 
You nod, trying to grin as best as you can when your lips are forcibly puckered. 
Logan smiles right back at you. “You got a rubber?”
You nod again, scurrying to your nightstand once Logan lets you go. He tells you to get on the bed and you take the liberty of throwing your shirt off and bra as you go. You have enough sense to step out of your shoes, unclasp your jeans, and tug the zipper down in the path. 
By the time you’re sitting on your bed, you can feel the anxiety thrumming through your body. It’s a good kind, the kind you’ve been seeing less and less of lately. You’re still a little tired and still desiring a solid nap, but it can definitely wait. This is your main priority. 
Logan speaks to you as he undresses. 
“You still doing okay?” he asks as he’s pulling his tee over his head. When you nod, he moves to his belt, thick but deft fingers undoing it and leaving it hanging open and hooked into his belt loops. 
“You tell me if you wanna stop,” he says as he pulls his jeans down, stepping out of them right after he steps out of his boots. You give him a look and he clocks it immediately. 
“You think you can take it, bub?” He laughs. “Yeah? Don’t you think you’re talkin’ a big game?”
Petulantly, you roll your eyes. “Logan, I’m not a fucking kid, I’ll be fine.”
Wrong. So, so, so stupidly wrong. 
You are fine, but the sight of Logan’s dick sends nerves down your spine. You’ve talked yourself up, you can’t go back, so you do what you can. You let him peel your jeans and panties off, hoping you look as seductive as he does. You keep your eyes on his abdomen, tracing the vein that runs from the right of his navel down to his cock, breathing as well as you can while Logan lines himself up. The first push burns, just like you expect it to, but you adjust quicker than you thought. Eventually, all you can feel is pleasure. You’re so full when he’s only halfway in you. You feel stuffed as soon as he bottoms out, his heavy ball sack resting flush against you, a thick forest of pubes pressed against your cunt. 
Logan is so much, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. Hovering and staring down at you as his hips rock into yours, slowly and experimentally at first. It’s not until you draw a leg up over his hips that he increases the strength of his rocks. 
He has one hand keeping himself steady and the other holding your waist. It’s so intimate, and not only because he’s fucking you, but because he’s staring down at you the entire time, his teeth bared as he watches you for every single reaction. His eyes rake down your body, watching the way your tits jiggle before dipping lower to watch the way he’s entering you. You can’t see his gaze, but you can feel it, the weight of it comparable to the weight of his cock in you. 
There’s an inhuman nature to it, hidden deep below the surface as if he’s trying to hold back, but it’s there. You’re made aware of it when you clench around him and he growls. It comes from the back of his throat but it’s a sound you’ve never heard before. It’s so Logan, you don’t think anyone other than him could make a sound like that as erotic as it is. You want to hear him more, you want your moans to blend together amongst the four walls of your bedroom, but he keeps his sounds to himself. It’s like there’s a disconnect between the both of you, like Logan’s still holding back even though he’s balls deep in you. 
“Logan,” you whine, getting his attention. He looks at you with concern in his eyes, his hips slowing down. You shake your head, pushing more towards him. “Please,” you beg, praying he knows exactly what you want. 
“What? What d’you want?”
“More.”
Logan gets rougher. He’s grinding up into you like his life depends on it, blunt nails delving into your skin as if he wants to break it. You wish he would. You aren’t regenerative like he is, but you still desire the broken skin, the beads of blood, the marks left behind. 
You’re thinking about it, eyes lidded and falling closed when Logan knocks his forehead into yours once. He moans, closed-mouthed as his head lolls to the side, a shiver shaking him from the bottom of the spine up. 
“Jesus, baby,” he says. It’s all he says, but it’s more than enough. He keeps going, digging his tip into you deeper and deeper until it feels like he’s swimming in your guts. 
He drags his head down until he can wrap his lips around one of your nipples, licking and sucking before moving on to give the other one the same treatment. You desperately want him to mark you up, you want a reminder that this—the thing you’ve been wanting since Storm and Scott came back with two new mutants in tow—actually happened. Bravely, you reach out and tangle your hand in his hair, surprisingly softer than you thought it would be. You don’t hold him down much, just enough to communicate what you want nonverbally. And then after a few tortuous seconds of hesitation, his lips wrap around the skin atop your left breast and he sucks. The strength in it stings, it reminds you just how strong Logan is, but it feels so good. 
Unexpectedly, you feel your muscles seize. It starts in your tummy, deep down near where Logan’s been massaging, and then it just doesn’t stop, likely because he doesn’t stop. 
It’s like he’s spurred on by the feeling of you cumming, motivated by the way your back arches and you reach for the heavens as you clench around his cock. 
He gets a burst of energy, fucking you like he has something to prove when really it’s you with something to prove. 
You’re overstimulated, struggling to keep up with Logan, but you don’t want to tap out. You talked a big game, you can’t back down now. So you remain silent while Logan pulls another orgasm out of you, hoping he won’t notice the way your eyes brew tears without your consent and the way your lips quirk with the impending request to slow down. 
Of course, he notices. 
He’s grinning with sympathy—you don’t know if it’s sincere or faux—when he takes a hand and strokes your cheekbone. 
“I see ya, kid. Feels good, yeah?”
For some reason, when he calls you kid like this, you don’t completely hate it. 
There’s no point in lying, so you nod. 
“So tight,” he winces, eyebrows pinched together as he flashes his teeth, a dimple in his right cheek appearing with it. 
Just as you didn’t warn him before, he doesn’t warn you when he cums. You feel it though, the way his thrusts get sloppier and faster just before he gives you one punctual one, and then you feel the confined warmth of his cum shooting into the condom. 
You wish you weren’t as exhausted as you were, because the next time you’re conscious, it’s dark out and the bedsheet is covering your body. You’re hot, hotter than you usually want to be when you’re sleeping, but you’re bare naked. That and you only have a thin sheet covering your body. 
It doesn’t take much investigation to figure out what’s making you so hot, not when it’s attached to your back with one meaty bicep slung around your neck and keeping you pulled against him. It takes you a bit to fall asleep, but once you do, you’re out for the rest of the night. 
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shmpxx · 11 months
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BROKEN PROMISE — y.i
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⛤ yuuji itadori x fem! reader
Yuuji definitely loves cumming inside but you ban him from doing so, how could you do that to poor Yuuji?
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. cervix-fucking. squirting. non-con cumming inside. overstimulation. pussydrunk. tummy bulge. mentions of pregnancy. +18!
wc: 1k
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Sex with Yuuji is amazing but also annoying. Yuuji never listens to you, not when his cock is so buried deep into you, threatening to cum and coat your gushy walls even when you tell him not to, he cums too much that you’ll already end up feeling full in one go. The first time he slid in, he couldn’t stop. How can he? Your cunt was squeezing him tight, milking him dry each time he can’t pull out in time. He’s being deeply swallowed by your warmth and the wind is being knocked out of his lungs. Your pussy is basically begging to be filled with his cum. You regret furthering make out sessions because now there’s no going back. He doesn’t like to wear condoms either, not when he had went raw for the first time, now he is obsessed with your used up hole.
You’ll scold him that if he did it again he wouldn’t be getting any for a while. This time surprisingly he did listen, he promised though he was sad he will never get to sink his cock into you and fill you up in all the right places, your mushy walls being glazed and the pretty mess you make on him as well. How could you punish him like that? It wasn’t his fault he can’t help it, the feeling was pretty much addicting but your not trying to get pregnant, though he probably wouldn’t mind if he just gets to. So every time his cock slightly twitched to cum, he would pull out cumming on your stomach or your ass. It’s still feels good but stuffing you was so much better.
Yuuji now pounding into you, this time you both ran through your first orgasm. Yuuji was hungry, hungry to keep beating your cervix with his cock. His pace was fast and rough, sweat beads forming on your bodies. His head lowering cursing and moaning “fuck-fuck..ah! Can’t stop-…shit!” he wasn’t even getting tired, his hips slamming into you and your hands tug onto the sheets beneath you, eyes tight shut as your taking his merciful thrusts, your moaning like crazy your getting dizzy. Your pretty pussy taking his big dick at such speed.
You can feel his cock throb, that’s when you know he’s about to cum. “Yuuji! You know to..ah-pull out” what was that? Sounded like nothing to him. He’s still going, his eyes closed as he tilts his head back just thinking about how good you feel and your walls tightening around his girth, he was practically drooling. “feel so- fucking good! Can’t stop! I have to-“ You shake your head before he begins to go faster. Half of your mind was being focused on Yuuji fucking you hard into your spot and the other half was the hope that you needed him to pull out in time before he cums, you were near your end and he was too yet he’s so lost in your weeping cunt, he might have to just break his promise not even thinking twice about the consequences because he was so entranced by your pussy.
“Yuuji don’t! Don’t cum inside! Ah! Pull out already” you yell out a moan, a sharp ache was building up in the pit on your stomach. He shakes his head “m’ sorry baby! Fuck-“ Yuuji was not cooperating nor he was sorry. You slightly pull your hips back but Yuuji grabs them slamming you back down, his leaking tip pounded at your cervix and you let a intense moan. “Please baby..just let me-“ he whines, his voice cracking a bit.
“Yuuji!” you gasp, you felt like you were about to explode. Yuuji hurries, feeling himself about climax and made sure he was about to do it right inside you just like he always wanted to. “‘m cumming! ‘m cumming” how fucking amazing that felt when he pumps full of hot spurts of cum deep in your womb, he’s biting the inside of his cheek. you cry feeling him fill you up so fast already and you gushed around him of your liquids right on his cock cumming hard, the feeling of your tummy became full of him “Ah! Yuuji no! I-your cumming inside me“ you whimpered with your hand on your lower abdomen feeling the bulge of his big dick. you were trembling, your heart is racing, waiting for your high to calm down but it’s taking a while to do so.
“Don’t wanna stop now” he exhales a large gasp of air, He knew he was gonna overstimulate himself, he had never before in a while though you felt so good and he had to keep going, he got to cum inside you, surely he could do it again. “Yuuji yer such a idiot” you whine and gave him a fist at his chest as his dick growing hard again and he’s still thrusting inside not caring about the filthy mess he made. “‘m sorry baby..i really am..-shit! Your squeezing me though” if you keep doing that then he might just cum harder and so much more than before.
Yuuji uses his hands to push your legs almost to your ears so he can fuck into deeper, already planning to cum inside you again when he’s to his end. He’s panting like a dog, you’re moaning and the sounds fills your ears of Yuuji’s cock plunging repeatedly in your stuffed pussy. You might just kill him after this yet you’re overwhelmed with Yuuji tip prodding at your cervix with ease. “Yuuji i hate you s’ much..hah! Ah! s’ much!” Yuuji lets out a sigh along with a small laugh “I’ll make it up to you I promise just- fuck! Let me..ah!” Yuuji’s hips are snapping but they’re also a bit sloppy.
“oh fuck oh fuck!” His cock pulses, your moans pitches when your stomach tightens. Yuuji leans down gritting his teeth hard and his fingers dig through your skin. He gives you another load while your pussy clenches around him. Your toes curl and you cum intensely, gushing over him messily again, your stomach fluttering with his dick still pumping his essence into you and some of his previous cum leaking out. “Stupid Yuuji..” you’re all fucked out but your pissed as hell “Hah..sorry” little does he know he’s not getting sex from you for a while.
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
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Title: In The Serpent's Den.
Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 4.7k.
TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.
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“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”
 His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.
“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”
Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.
You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”
You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.
Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.
Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—
 Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.
Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…
You felt warm.
Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.
He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”
“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”
“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”
“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But, you bit—”
“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”
You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”
“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.
He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”
Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”
Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.
“Hybrids go into heat.”
A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.
“…heat?”
“Heat, little rabbit.”
His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”
“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”
“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”
“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”
The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.
Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.
You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.
Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.
You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.
You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.
You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.
You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”
Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”
“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”
You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.
Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.
Immediately, it felt wrong.
You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.
“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”
Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”
“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”
One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—
And he was inside of you.
Completely inside of you.
You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”
His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.
Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”
Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.
As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.
You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.
~
Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”
It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.
Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”
“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”
You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”
You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.
You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.
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artytaeh · 7 days
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as promised, here's a treat for my mattheo riddle girlies ‹3 i hope you like it and feels ?? canon ?? because i honestly think that this is sooo matt coded. anyways! tysm for all the love and support. 🌷
warnings : obvious explicit mentions of sexual content, meant for +18 readers; read at your own risk.
’⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 : 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌.﹙★﹚
﹙★﹚ in one word, mattheo riddle is messy. that's the way that mattheo loves the most: messy, passionate, nasty, almost impulsive. a mess of feelings and urges alone.
despite seeking for his own pleasure, mattheo prides himself as someone who can satisfy both himself and his partner.
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WHEN EATING YOU OUT, mattheo doesn't hold back. incapable of sticking to something for a long moment, he's a mess— running his flat tongue between your lips, then kissing your nub with a loud wet sound; mattheo doesn't care at all if the lewd sound of his lips and mouth on you rival your own moans. he's here to ravish you, so take it without complains, yeah?
more often than not, mattheo is one to use both his fingers and mouth. languidly kissing your core, almost messily making out with your clit, mattheo stretches you out with his fingers, scissoring the tight walls before curling upwards— you swear that each time he does this, you can feel him smirking against your sensitive skin.
empty bedroom, broom closet, locker rooms aftee quidditch practice; mattheo riddle doesn't give a flying fuck.
he's loud and vocal, deal with it. what's there to be embarrassed about? let the whole school know how much mattheo loves to drop to his knees for his girl.
honorable mention that no one has the balls to make a clownery comment about it. mattheo sent assholes with broken noses to the infirmary wing for much less.
mattheo isn't one to spread your legs while eating you out. he wouldn't make your legs tired right in the beginning— the slytherin needs them strong, not sore, to keep up with the way he'll manhandle you afterwards.
besides, mattheo is insanely addicted to the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, making him feel the warm and smooth skin of those inner thighs almost suffocate him, from his place between your legs.
non ironically jokes about that being the most heavenly way to die. mentioned it once during a conversation with his friends— about dying like this. with honor—, his smug expression deeply contrasting with your embarrassed one.
whenever possible, nevermind if he's having you sat on a desk, chair, or standing up against a wall with him on his knees for you— mattheo finds a way to have one hand pleasuring you, in sync with his eager tongue, and the other sneakily on your chest.
his fingers barely give attention to your nipples; he's so not sorry, but there's no way that mattheo can help himself— his hand cups your bare breast, yanking the bothersome bra downwards or pushing it upwards, anything to have his palm on that soft skin that drives him insane.
groaning, with his face buried in your middle, mattheo squeezes your chest with a greedy touch. damn right that all of you belongs to him.
﹙★﹚ : SOME KINKS OF HIS, might include:
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⋆ spitting : mattheo has heard and ignored comments that refer to this as something disgusting; he can't help it— to him, this is so hot. definitely has a thing for spitting inside your mouth, whenever you're facing him, underneath his heavy body. would also spit on your core before being inside you, or eating you out. prefers to be the one giving, instead of receiving; even so, mattheo would find it hot if you did so on his cock, before giving him a handjob or using your mouth.
⋆ biting : all i say is, good luck. mattheo riddle can't properly put it into words, however, his love for bodies who look a bit more chubby, where his hands can grab and squeeze, are also enthralling to him because there's a lot of room to bite. thighs? he'll spend a long time there, even if mattheo doesn't have the intention to take it further— he just likes the feeling of your skin inside his mouth, biting into it! neck too, which can be a nuisance sometimes; you never know if mattheo is burying his face on the crook of your neck because he's sleepy or in the mood of creating more bruises there. hard bites. like, the ones that hurt like a bruise after a few days.
⋆ choking : this man loves to have a hand around your neck, as if it is a collar that dictates his ownership over you. his hand there, fingers curling around the skin of your neck that he positively filled with bruises, so easily cups your jaw, keeping your face on his direction, facing him. this same hand is the one that is quick to slap your face a couple of times, hitting your cheek with his fingertips— enough to make it sting for brief seconds, not really bruising your face.
well, the same can't be said about your hips, thighs and ass. mattheo doesn't hold back there.
⋆ anal : would do his best to convince, or at least tempt you into trying it once with you. even so, should you not feel comfortable with it, mattheo would happily hold on to what he can do instead— if your limit are plugs, and you accept to wear it sometimes, mattheo is already over the moon.
hungrily licks over it while using his fingers on you, his wet muscle feeling the skin of your rim and the cold metal of your plug, pressuring his fingers on it. would want to do it in positions that gives him a good vision of the plug inside you, thumbs brushing over the skin of your asscheeks and the toy deep inside your other hole. it drives him crazy.
however! if even plugs aren't something that you'd feel comfortable with or want to try, mattheo accepts that he wasn't able to make the idea tempting for you. and, like a good loser— which doesn't apply to quidditch— mattheo will be more than happy with what he can get. which means, leaving a mess of handprints, finger marks, vicious bites and hickeys on your asscheeks.
⋆ not a rope bunny : even though being tied up or doing so to his partner is something that some people view as, well, something to spice up a relationship— mattheo doesn't perceive it that way at all. even the thought of having you tied up isn't charming to him; if anything, mattheo might pin down your wrists with his hand for a moment, but that's as far as it goes, with restricting touches; because mattheo, too, loves the feeling of your hands on him.
and let me tell you: this man would hate being tied up. what do you mean he can't touch you? mattheo can promise to hold back from thrusting up or switching positions, to be in control— but please don't prevent him from touching you. mattheo would look at you so genuinely sad, that he can't cup your chest or feel the skin of your thighs, much less get your ass squeezed by his greedy, warm hands. :(
⋆ biggest victim of cockwarming : no, not even for a bet. mattheo wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. for starters, why would he entertain the idea of not moving at all? mattheo is all too starved and hungry for you to be still; he might hold on for a few moments just to satisfy your requests, but ultimately, his patience will run out and he'll show you how it's a hundred times better to do something about it.
⋆ ¹overstimulation : believe it or not, mattheo wouldn't purposefully overstimulate his partner. however, when intentional, only happens if mattheo wants to prove a point, usually fueld by jealousy— because whatever guy you were laughing with, couldn't possibly making you tremble and fall apart on his arms like this, right? and yet, mattheo might also be tempted to use this as a punishment for bratty behavior.
⋆ ²edging : rarely ever does this to his partner; mattheo enjoys bringing pleasure to you, not finding satisfaction on depriving you from an orgasm if he's got you so close, so high for his touch alone. rather than torturing you, mattheo finds more enjoyment on the sight of having you coming undone on his fingers, tongue, or cock. coaxes and encourages you to do so as well, having little to no care over clothes, sheets or surfaces getting wet.
HOWEVER, mattheo is one to dealy his own release. mattheo riddle is addicted to the feeling of pleasure given by you; your hands, mouth, the feeling of slipping inside you— mattheo never wants it to end.
strategically finds ways to last longer with you, by switching positions, giving him a few seconds to calm down, if he feels like he's almost there. won't ever leave you unsatisfied; even if he finishes before you, and can't go on, then mattheo is more than happy to make you come in another way.
⋆ experimentalist : mattheo let's you do anything and everything to him— leaving little room to things that he would never be tempted to try out. is there something you want to try? perhaps a new kink in the list? he's all for it, like a puppy trailing right behind you.
so you want to use him like a toy? suit yourself; mattheo is already on the process of stripping out his clothes, moving to lay down on the bed. something more risky? his fingers intertwine with yours, that devilish mind of his already thinking about time, place, and what he'd love to do with you. unironically, mattheo riddle would even let you put a bow on it, if you so much as asked him to do it. there's practically nothing that he shies away from doing with you.
⋆ blood / knife play : listen. if mattheo's kinks were to be explain with an iceberg, this one would be on the bottom of it. mattheo knows how bad this sounds— that the sight of blood can spark some worse assumptions about him, that are already as bad as they can get. even worse if he explains how charming it sounds for him, how it gets him hot and bothered, the idea of carving his initials on that pretty smooth skin of yours.
m.r. two letters, ones that he traces in random trees around school, when he's feeling bored of his friends' conversation. m.r., easy to write, due to previous practice.
it's a terribly territorial, even possessive craving of his; mattheo riddle can't excuse that urge that resonates deeply within him. and if you indulge this fantasy of his, or ask to do the same to him? mattheo wouldn't live for the embarrassment of how hard that would instantly get him.
﹙★﹚: FAVORITE POSITIONS. .ᐟ
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⋆ REVERSE COWGIRL is a favorite of his, specifically for the heavenly sight of you, watching you struggle as he relaxes against the mattress. enjoying the show, his eyes darken as he watches you struggle to bounce on his shaft— feeling, admiring each time that your ass harshly meets the skin of his groin, prominent with each movement of your hips. no doubts that mattheo will smack your ass if your rhythm falters even for a second.
⋆ PRONE BONE, as soon as mattheo gets you as comfortable as you can get. fixing a pillow under your hips to make it easier for the two of you— not only getting you to arch your back, presenting your rear to him, but also to improve your comfort before he takes it all on you.
⋆ AGAINST A WALL works all too well for mattheo, as someone who prides himself on his strength and muscles, having a build that allows those obvious lines marking his four pack abs.
( mattheo would die right there and then, if you ever used them. as in, giving up on using any pillows to rub and grind against him instead, letting mattheo feel how wet he gets you over his firm skin. would have the best smoke of his life as he watches you, murmuring praises and encouraging you to use him as a toy. )
(...) ⋆ not just in bed, but in general— mattheo riddle loves displaying how strong he is; how much weight he can take and strength he has. the first he showcases with you on his arms; the latter he wordlessly brags with each dislocated jaw that comes from his doing. so carrying you and lifting you off the floor is a favorite, almost instinctive, action for mattheo.
sometimes he's so into this, that he won't seek for a surface— not even a bloody desk, much less the comfort of a sofa or bed— pinning you against the wall. his hands lower down your body, feeling the curve of your waist, giving a greedy squeeze to your bottom, until his hands settle for the back of your thighs, easily hoisting you up from the floor. it's nothing for mattheo to have you in this position for a while— he's bloody thankful for it. his hands greedily squeeze the skin at hand, pressing himself between your legs, grinding your middle with his bulge.
⋆ not really a position itself, but mattheo goes INSANE for DRY HUMPING. this man loves nasty, messy sex; creaming his pants as you grind on his clothed bulge, feeling you getting wetter and wetter until your underwear becomes a mess on top of him— it gets mattheo every. single. time.
﹙★﹚: PREFERRED PLACES. .ᐟ
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the privacy of a bedroom is one that mattheo can't ignore, or deny, given his previous experiences. doesn't really mind if the two of you do it in yours, or his dorm— however, mattheo has a slight preference for his dorm room, because he knows where to find what he needs, which drawer, which nightstand, reaching for it blindly.
HOWEVER, mattheo isn't one to pass an opportunity, and being one to indulge his desire and need over you, passing by as an exhibitionist isn't something that mattheo is scared to do.
⋆ locker rooms, specifically right after practice or a quidditch match. if mattheo had to choose a place, then he wouldn't need to think a lot about this one. as someone who has a lot of pent up energy, there's something about him being all sweaty from giving his all as slytherin's beater, then riding the adrenaline off on — in — you.
⋆ ... bonus points if it happens inside a shower stall, the two of you hidden by a single curtain, moans and groans muffled by the sound of water falling down your bodies.
⋆ empty classrooms, strategically used during key moments of day or nightime, when there's the reassurance that it won't be used anytime soon in the next couple of hours. mostly during meal time, given that even professors would be too busy on the other side of the castle. there's something about bending you over an abandoned desk or getting you sat up on the currently unused professor's desk, for mattheo— he can't exactly say if it's about the thrill of breaking unwritten rules, or the way it somehow challenges their authority.
⋆ broom closets, which mattheo would preferably only use for the sake of a make out, during those days that your routines don't seem to match, for some cruel reason. if he misses you too much, separated due to different classes, different schedules, mattheo will steal you for a few minutes to get much deserved kisses. aching for the feeling of his skin against his again. however, it rarely develops into sex— the most it might get to, is giving him a blowjob or mattheo using his fingers on you; otherwise, broom closets are too tiny, too uncomfortable for more.
which mattheo had to accept, after almost getting caught because in the middle of his enthusiasm, mattheo knocked off a few brooms on the floor.
﹙★﹚ MORE RANDOM HEADCANONS :
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if you asked him whether mattheo prefers ass or boobs, he'd say that HE CHOOSES BOTH. now, if you pressured him into choosing just one— mattheo seriously takes long minutes to decide. full on blank stare into nothingness, barely blinking as his mind uses all of his concentration to do the mathematics of which part of your body he prefers. after long minutes of indecision, chooses your ass, almost mourning it, as if mattheo would wake up to never stare at your chest again.
THE TYPE OF SLAP YOUR ASS AT ANY GIVEN CHANCE. mattheo riddle loses his life, but never a joke. mattheo riddle might be yelled at by you, but won't miss the opportunity to indulge that guilty pleasure of landing a smack on your ass.
TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. doesn't shut up for the life of him; vocal, because he wants you to know how good you make him feel, and would love it if you do the same.
would learn HOW TO BE GENTLE now that he's dating, given that mattheo loses himself to the intense feelings of craving and desiring you. you blink, and suddenly mattheo is carrying you to the bed, about to remove your shirt and already on his third hickey.
SO INTO THE IDEA OF BEING SLAPPED. initially, mattheo thinks that he'd be fucking pissed if a girl dared to lay a hand on him — he can sent bigger assholes flying through the astronomy tower, who the hell are you to hit him, chipmunk? — but then. then he gets a slap from you.
dark eyes become wide, staring at a spot on the floor as his face barely moves to the side, feeling the tingle of a slight pain on his cheek. mattheo looks back to you; instead of yelling at you or being pissed at what you did—
he's horny. seriously, mattheo might find reasons to make you angry at him, so that he can marvel at how hot you look while you're furious at him, craving another slap like a bloody giggling teenager.
RARELY ACTS SUBMISSIVE, yet would let you take control if you wanted to be the one leading this time. however, mattheo has the hardest time to keep his hands to himself, or be the one to set the pace.
⋆ wouldn't tell a soul, but he jerks off the most at the memory of that time you rode him, and while bouncing on his cock, your hand hit his cheek, giving him a slap for trying to hurry the pace. you could swear you saw his pupils dilate.
doesn't mind for QUICKIES, AND HONESTLY LIKES THEM ALL THE SAME. there's something about being hidden by your skirt, and pulling your panties to the side, only to know that he's probably dripping right to that soft fabric, preventing it from lewdly trailing down your thighs. call him a pervert— mattheo is just a man with some territorial issues.
and that's probably why MATTHEO THINKS THAT IT'S SO ATTRACTIVE to still have some clothes on. he's obsessed for the sight of your body, at any given chance, and yet— ripping most of the buttons from your shirt, clothes are pushed and pulled up, down or to the side. your bra is tugged upwards so that his mouth can tease the now bare chest, fingers already on their way to lift your skirt and pull your underwear to the side. mattheo craves the sight of you so desperate for him, the same way that he's desperate for you too, both not wanting to wait any moment longer.
A WHORE FOR TOUCHES ON HIS HAIR AND SCALP. mattheo didn't care much for his hair before, until the curly shape of his dark hair became pretty to his eyes, and wanted to take the chance of such genetics to make himself look handsome. with that said, mattheo riddle wants to leave your bed with a mess of a hair— from tugging, pulling, pushing, having your fingers running through it, or massages, rubs on his scalp. having your nails scratching (not painfully. have mercy?!) on his scalp makes this man whimper.
speaking of things that make mattheo riddle whimper: KISS OR LICK OVER THE SCARS ON HIS CHEST, and you'll see how much of a mess he'll be under your lips. the skin there is so sensible, not to mention how intimate it feels, to have his previous injuries being the center of your attention, pampered and kissed so gently.
GOES INSANE IF YOU TRACE his v-lines with your tongue. literally has to grip something to hold back.
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﹙★﹚ ANGRY SEX, is something that once in a while, mattheo would like to have with his partner.
mattheo is amused at the sight of his partner angry at something, whenever it doesn't root from a confrontation with mattheo that got him annoyed as well.
the argument would escalate until he's almost yelling at your face— the moment your noses almost brush together, so close, with anger radiating from both of you— mattheo loses it and shuts you up with a kiss, putting an end to the argument. after this first heated kiss, mattheo pulls away, staring into your eyes for any hint that you are too angry to kiss him, or if you don't want him to touch you / continue what you were doing.
it's hard to insist on keeping up the argument given that between yelling at each other for another ten minutes, or having him roughly thrusting into that spot that makes you see stars— well, usually, you choose the latter.
becomes missionary if the argument continues, nevermind how the pleasure makes his mind dazed with foggy thoughts. it's doggy with his hand on the back of your head, pushing your face to bury on the mattress or the comfort of a pillow, whenever mattheo can't deal with your attitude, or has had enough of the argument. doggy it is, when it's to shut you up.
even if the argument still gnaws an ugly feeling inside yours or his mind, mattheo will pull you closer to him anyways, head over his heart, fingers running through your hair. a silent way to reassure you, and mostly himself, that it'll be okay, and a fight isn't what's going to separate the two of you.
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it's a terrible terrible idea to tease mattheo by keeping your underwear on. oh, so you think it's funny to grind on him with those panties of yours? that's so funny, that mattheo will rip them too. during those days that he's too dizzy with need for you, you can anticipate grief over the underwear you're wearing. and mattheo is not apologetic at all— he keeps all of these conquered prizes on the last drawer of his desk. throwing those panties away? no, no. mattheo has a better use for them.
should anyone ever touch them or find out his dirty secret, mattheo might just be tempted to break someone's fingers. what? those are his and your panties! comunism! only between the two of you!
this man has no money left for cigarettes; mattheo will be begging theodore to share them with him, because guess what! he does have to pay for property damages.
which means, giving you money for each damaged underwear from his impatient, greedy hands. sometimes, going out to hogsmeade involves shopping for more underwear— this, while mattheo is just outside the store, smoking a cigarette as he waits for you.
he'd tell his friends that it's because he wouldn't be caught inside a lingerie store. the truth is that you have forbidden mattheo from entering one with you— this man is a tall child. a tall, menacing child.
panties would be flying, his hands would cup bras and say in a way too loud tone that: 'babe! these are your size! trust my hands, i know how your pretty tits feel like.'
worse than that, mattheo would try to speed up the process. such a thing means that he'd have a pair of panties hanging on his index finger —imagine the tiniest piece of cloth, in the most vibrant, awful tone possible— as he yells: 'princess, what about these?' with the stupidest smile because mattheo thinks that he's really funny.
so, yeah. no shopping together for underwear and lingeries. mattheo is on timeout from those.
🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.
the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷
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harrysonlylover · 17 days
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Love*
A mini blurb
Trope: AU/ non-famous Harry/ Husbandrry
Warnings: unprotected sex, praise kink, aftercare.
WC:1k
A/n: First piece i’ve written in months!!!! Wohooooooo
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“My love.”
Two words that echoed through the four walls, penetrated themselves into her skin and had her dizzy with unexplainable feelings.
They overpowered any other sounds in the room, turning into a mantra that fell from his lips religiously. That was all he could say. Words never did a good job at conveying what he felt for her anyway.
“I know my love, I know.” Every flex and move he made was art in itself. The conjoining of their bodies was the closest experience to a heavenly ritual, and the main ingredient in their spell was pure and obsessive love.
The confusion between praising her every second and drowning her face in kisses overtook him— his baby love deserved everything.
“I—I—“ She tried, she really did. She wanted to express her adoration, how good he was making her feel, how in love she was—but his cock always rendered her speechless.
“Oh baby, you don’t have to speak or think.” He cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead followed by a sharp thrust. “You just have to feel the pleasure I’m giving you and touch your man’s body.”
He sparked a reminder in her head—she hadn’t touched him yet. She didn’t waste time in allowing her soft hands to roam his back, neck, hips and ass.
“Good girl, that’s my good girl.” The whines that left her lips had the power to crown him as the man who sinned the most. All he needed was one whimper to fall from her lips, and he’d go on his knees.
“I just love it when you take your husband’s cock so well.” He drove into her wet cunt that was so swollen from overstimulation, drenching the sheets beneath them that witnessed two previous rounds.
His love made him an insatiable man, and he was not sorry about it.
Y/n was cockdrunk in the best fucking way possible. She was Harry’s pillow princess, and she loved it. Taking care of her sexual needs was his favourite activity, and she didn’t complain one bit.
The room reeked of sex and sweat— just another day for the lovebirds that fucked each other’s brains at any given moment.
Harry shifted his attention to her neck which was marked with bruises, her gorgeous breasts, and every part of her skin that he was able to reach.
He didn’t have to look down to where they were joined to know how wet and creamy they were— he could already tell from stuffing her full prior.
“You hear that my baby? That’s the result of your pussy being so greedy for my cum.” He sped up his thrusts, and the sounds of wet skin slapping echoed louder.
“Y—yes.” A hazy smile painted itself across her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to admit it, and that’s what Harry adored because he was equally obsessed with her pussy.
He had long thrown the duvet away, not wanting to feel anything on his body but her hands. The feeling of her skin on his was close to a spiritual experience—he adored fucking her in all positions, but missionary was always a winner.
Getting to see her beautiful face, whispering the filthiest words in her ear, and lacing their hands together was incomparable.
“My perfect girl—so good for me.”
The intimacy of feeling heat radiate off their bodies as he drove inside her velvety walls, her skin morphing into his, and her sweet moans that were music to his ears.
Her arms were wrapped around his neck while her legs were locked around his hips—the closer the better.
“Perfect fucking pussy, my angel.” He chuckled against her face. “She flutters for me because she knows my cock owns her.” Y/n clenched around him at that exact moment, for the sake of being a menace.
“Oh, you think that’ll make daddy mad? You’ll have to try harder angel.” He fixed his posture, landed a quick peck on her nose before arching his back, and fucked her deeper—reaching her g-spot with a sadistic smirk on his face.
Once her legs began shaking, she just closed her eyes and buried her face in Harry’s neck as his thick cock brought her closer to her third orgasm.
“So good for your husband.” He praised her, grabbing her hand to kiss her wedding ring that he spent a fortune on.
His thrusts turned hard and fast, the warmth of her cunt making his eyes roll backward as it almost tipped him over—even the smell of her skin could make him cum.
His abs contracted as he fucked her like there was no tomorrow—trying to give his wife the highest level of pleasure.
“Fuck!” She pulled him even closer with her legs before locking her lips with his as her orgasm washed over her body.
Her desperate moans during the kiss along with her pulsating pussy had him follow her by unloading his cum inside her.
His moans were slutty, ringing in her ears as she relished the sight of his eyes rolling backward, with his face scrunched in pleasure. He was a sight for sore eyes.
“I love you, I love you—“ They whispered to each other in their dimly lit bedroom, legs tangled with sweaty skin and giggles.
Harry always took time with his aftercare, his angel loved being kissed first, and she needed all the love after his cock exhausted her.
“Prettiest angel.” His hand caressed her cheek, earning a smile from her.
He stayed inside her per her request for a few minutes, admiring her, doting on her, telling her how gorgeous she was before carrying her bridal style to their bathtub.
She sat with her back to his chest as he scratched her head to help her relax, but it was enough to set her to sleep. Harry chuckled quietly at the sight of his sleeping wife—he wondered how could someone look so beautiful while sleeping.
He knew that he’d have to wake her up at some point as she pouted and headed for their bed with a sleepy face and wet hair, but for now—he’ll just admire her. ——————————————————
Kindly reblog if you liked it!
Taglist: @babegoals @hotnhardrrry @mattieshattuck1 @harrrrystylesslut @virgopr1ncess
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cursingtoji · 10 months
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𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 — 𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭
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ᥫ᭡ Suguru never thought he would see the girlfriend he murdered years ago when he decided there was no space in his life for non-sorcerers, yet he never said anything about her lost soul.
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cw: ghost! f reader x cult leader!geto, reader can’t speak much, invisible fucking (?), oral, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, body worship, praising, one quick mention of impregnation, slight violence (towards someone else), reader gets jealous of Suda, mentions of buddhist rituals and the antichrist (separate events), poor death jokes. 6.2k words (not sorry). #— cult-tober
ᥫ᭡ inspired by lady k and the sick man — hentai manga (read it at your own risk).
note: thank you everyone who asked about the status of this fic, you encouraged me to finish it <3
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Geto knew what he was doing the day he decided to cut everyone out of his life. Some of them, such as Gojo and Shoko, he just cut ties, others, he took their lives.
The people from that despicable village were first, then his own parents, and lastly, his girlfriend.
He would be lying if he said any of these killings made him feel bad, but the one that got closer to hurting him was, of course, yours.
Already numb from the previous deaths, keeping you alive wasn’t really an option.
Though Suguru was gentle, he waited for you to fall asleep while cuddling him after kissing his face and emphasizing how well rested he looked.
“Getting back on your feet, eh?” your words.
He didn’t think he would keep thinking of you, in that moment and the following years he was so focused on his long term goals and new discovered hatred that he managed to push you to the back of his mind.
Now he’s established, he has quite a lot of donors to his cause, a loyal group of sorcerers that share his vision and to top it all, the strongest set of curses that any curse user could only dream of.
Reaching such a satisfying point of his life makes him reflect upon the things he doesn’t have.
When Geto rests his head on the pillow at night he remembers the couples he sees through the day, the teenagers confessing when they can’t even look into each other’s eyes.
Naturally, he thinks of you.
The two of you were different, he took your hand and looked deeply into your eyes, you looked back, for many times after that you tended to look away whenever he said something suggestive or romantic, or even when he stared into your eyes for too long, and Suguru made sure to bring your eyes back to him.
Why couldn’t you have been born a sorcerer? You didn’t even need cursed energy, if you could only see curses that would be enough to him.
Geto sighs, it has been a few months since he started to think of you so frequently.
He’s a man of needs, from time to time he indulges himself into masturbating since sleeping with a human is out of the question and sleeping with a fellow sorcerer would only bring complications into his so-called family.
So, in the mornings, way before any of his duties, he takes the box from under his bed and sprays the perfume you used to use on the pillow beside his. He had an internal fight before buying that perfume, a girl was offering samples outside a store and once the scent reached his nostrils he was invaded by memories he thought he had buried years ago. He bought the bottle nevertheless, shaking his head sadly when the lady asked if she should wrap it as a gift.
The liquid in the bottle hasn’t decreased much, since it lasts quite a long time on his sheets. He sprays once in the pillow, or on his shirt, the one you used to steal from him all the time cause it was your favorite.
His boxers are pushed down, sometimes he fists his cock while looking at the pictures in his box, your pictures, unfortunately he had no spicy pictures, back when you were together nudes weren’t so common, not when you couldn’t password protect a digital camera and flip phones cameras sucked.
He uses the smiling pictures you insisted on taking on your dates, he usually was flipping, or had his tongue out
His favorite is the one you took in a photo booth, the first picture he somehow convinced you to show your tongue with him, the second both of you were laughing, the third you were kissing.
Those three pictures, plus the smell of your perfume is enough for him to remember that kiss vividly.
He teases his tip, thinking about how soft your breasts felt under his hand.
He couldn’t kiss you like that and just leave the photo booth, he had you on his lap, the confined space added to the risk of being caught was so exciting.
Geto spills his load on his stomach, his mind still playing the memory of him kissing your neck, while you caressed his hair urging him to soften down quickly so you could leave the booth and go back to your place. He put his arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple and getting a playful slap on his chest. You didn’t like pda, “people look at us weirdly” you said, but were the first to take his hand or pout when didn’t put his arm around you.
Geto is about to fall back asleep, it started to rain outside, he should be up in an hour but he’s feeling too nostalgic, in a bad way, so the association would have to go through the day without him.
Suguru turns to the side, the rain makes him remember the day you met him at his dorm, for what was supposed to be a date, but the weather changed so you cuddled on his single bed giggling about what would happen if someone knew you, a non-sorcerer, was inside such a exclusive facility like jujutsu tech when you shouldn’t even known it existed. Suguru kissed your face, cheeks, nose and lips, and assured you he would fight anyone that dared to say you were not welcome there.
He promised to keep you safe, in simpler times, when he had a best friend and a future as an ally of the jujutsu world.
Suguru feels a lump on his throat, but he swallows it, allowing his mind to fade away and muscles to relax as he’s back asleep.
Apparently, he needed that few more hours. Suguru is awoken suddenly by a loud, trembling sound. He looks around confused, hating to be woken up instead of waking up naturally, his eyes open slowly expecting the sun, but outside is dark, Geto’s head snaps to his alarm clock wondering how he could have slept till so late, but it says eight in the morning still. What started as a rain turned into a full storm by now.
Suguru jumps from his bed, in order to close the window which had already soaked part of his carpet.
“Shit” he closes the glass window and attempts to turn on the lights, but nothing happens, probably a blackout due to the storm.
His bedroom turns cold, colder than before he closed the window.
A lightning illuminates the sky, and by consequence, his room, he sees a figure on the corner before getting swallowed back in the dark, he rubs his eyes sensing something is off.
The blue cursed energy light takes its shape around his hand, whoever/whatever thought it was a good idea to enter his room is about to regret.
He can see a shape, raising his hand to hit it, concentrating his energy on his fist.
Lightning strikes again.
It illuminates a face. Your face.
Geto’s hand is stopped in the air, his eyebrows leave the frown state and his mouth is hung open.
The electricity returns, his lamp casting a warm light into the bedroom.
He can fully see you now, taking a step back and lowering his hand.
Your face is much paler, hair is longer, like all the years that have passed to him passed to you too. That if you hadn’t seen the sun, or cut your hair, if you were alive all this time or… dead, as it looks, a phantasmagoric version of the girl he used to know.
You have a white dress — or more like a nightgown on —, it’s long and the straps are thin, looks comfortable. He hopes you felt comfortable all this time.
Geto says your name, in a whisper, rubbing his eyes again and wondering if he’s still dreaming.
You brace yourself slowly, as if you’re the one scared in this situation, he watches your mouth parting but closing again.
“Is it really you?” he takes a step closer but you take a step back hitting the wall, “Are you… afraid of me?”
Your eyes widen, they look opaque, shineless. Then you furrow your eyebrows, turn your hands into fists and hit his chest.
“You’re mad, I get it, I deserve it” he lets you punch him groaning angrily, never saying a word, he wonders if you can even speak.
“C’mere” he wraps his arms around you when you start to whimper.
Suguru considers actually being crazy or dreaming, cause you still smell like your old perfume.
“I’m not sure what is happening, I don’t really care, just please don’t go away” he tightens his hold on you believing you could disappear anytime, “You heard me? I was calling your name earlier” he lets go to caress your face, it’s still weird to look at your face when you have this bluish hue instead of the warm cheeks he knew.
You look away, exactly like you did when he said something naughty. So you did hear him when he was touching himself looking at your pictures together. Then he remembers something new, a conversation you had about whether he would find another girlfriend if you died, the type of thing a girl asks in a relationship when she’s bored. That or if their boyfriends would still love them if they were a worm.
Suguru doesn't seem to remember his answer, though he knew you had a tendency to get jealous easily.
“Not sure how much you saw all this time, but just so you know I’ve never been with anyone else” he assures.
Your gaze returns to him surprised, you didn’t know as it seems, he feels like asking questions, how long have you been around? What do you remember?
“You’re cold” he rubs your arms and your strap slides down allowing him to notice your breasts and your nipples marking the fabric, “I’m picking you up, alright?” and he does, wondering if you’re lighter or if he’s got stronger.
Suguru places you on his bed, now a much larger and more comfortable one than the one he had in his jujutsu tech dorm. He lays with you and covers you both with a duvet as you wiggle on his hold trying to find that position you liked to cuddle at.
“You’re so soft” his hand runs on your thigh, “I missed you so much” he squeezes you smelling your hair and kissing your temple all the way down your cheeks — which are way warmer now — until he meets your lips which he starts to peck lightly, though the pent up energy and the way his heart aches for you doesn’t allow him to take this slowly, instead he’s quick to deepen the kiss rolling his tongue with yours and pushing your straps down to fondle with yours breasts.
You whimper and try to move your legs from under him, with no success as he’s drunk on the feeling of having your body under his again.
Such sensitive nipples hardening under his fingers, the taste of you, yours hands pushing his—
He’s pushed off the bed with more strength than he ever thought you would have. You get rid of the duvet and kneels down to where he lays on the floor, he thinks that’s all a play until a very real hand slaps his face, harshly, then you run and disappear through the wall.
Suguru sighs, noticing his boner and resting on the floor.
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“…then we’ll be all set, Geto-sama. Geto-sama?” Suda asks, noticing how deep he’s in whatever he’s reading.
“Thank you, Manami” he dismisses her, not taking his eyes off the book.
Geto decided to do some research, to understand how it was possible for you to have appeared to him.
Turns out, in all the books and archives he has of the jujutsu world, there’s only one explanation for why a human would have come back after death.
He cursed you, somehow.
Reversing the curse.
He closes the book when seeing the title of the next chapter, that’s not what he’s interested in.
Geto closes his eyes massaging the bridge of his nose, that day’s duties are already giving him a headache.
A hand manifests out of thin air, touching his cheek. Definitely something worthy of a jump scare, but after an initial surprise, Geto softens his features and puts his hand on top of yours.
The rest of your body manifests slowly, you’re on top of the table he was reading at, your legs dangle on the side, your hair covers part of your face and it’s long enough to reach the table's surface.
“Hello, beautiful” he brushes the hair away from your face, your thumb rubs his cheekbone, the place you hit the day before, it’s not sore or even bruised, the only scar that it left was an emotional one and he senses you’re apologizing for hitting him, though he’s the one that should be begging your forgiveness.
“I’m sorry about last time, I got too excited to see you again and forget the most important thing” he took both your cold hands and kissed your knuckles, “To apologize, for taking your life” he’s not capable of looking up, not yet, “I’m sorry.”
He thought if he should do that for a long time, since he doesn’t regret the things he’s done to get where he is today, and Geto believed that if you had the chance to go back in time to do things differently and still didn’t do it, you couldn’t say you’re sorry for what you did. And he would do it all over again.
He is sorry for you though, he’s sorry for crossing your life and revealing all the things you shouldn’t know in the first place, he’s sorry for depriving you from a normal life, unaware of the existence of curses and sorcerers.
“I’m glad you’re here now” he rests his head on your lap hugging your waist and bringing you closer.
You caress his hair, minding the bun, his hair is also much longer than the last time you saw him, you always said he should grow it out since his hair was so naturally lustrous. He teased you, asking if you were jealous of his gorgeous hair. Now, he snorts, remembering the conversation and untying the half bun so you can run your fingers freely.
Geto, with his head still on your lap notices your feet dangling happily, one on each side of his. He reaches for your right one, brushing his fingers on your sole causing you to squeal, he laughs softly, seemingly you’re not able to speak, only to express yourself through little sounds. His hand wraps around your ankle then rubs the extension of your calves until he reaches your knee, pushing the hem of your dress just enough to expose your thigh for him to start kissing.
“We don’t have to do anything okay? I just want to touch you” he rubs his cheek on the skin of your thigh, like a cat asking for affection.
Your hands leave his hair and his heart beats faster assuming you’re about to leave him, instead you take the hem of your dress and lift it up all the way to your hips, revealing your uncovered pussy to him. The afterlife must be more comfortable without underwear.
Geto grins, accepting what you’re offering him, pushing his chair enough to give him space to dip his head lower and further into your legs.
You being the good dead girl you are, lean back and spread your legs watching with wide eyes the black head of the cult leader getting lost under your dress.
He starts by kissing your folds and rubbing the space between your hips and thighs, taking a mental note of how warm you get when touched by him.
Suguru nuzzles into you, rubbing the tip of his nose on your clit while you squirm. He takes your ankle and helps place your foot on the table to give him more room to eat you out.
What a sin it would be if someone so good at sweet talking others was bad with his tongue.
Thankfully that’s not Suguru.
He quickly drives his attention to your hole, teasing it until he feels your hand gripping his hair, he spreads your flexed leg further and pushes his tongue in, not being able to hold back a moan when he feels you contracting around his muscle.
His nail is digging on your thigh, which he can tell you desperately want to close, still so sensible even after all these years.
Soft breaths echo through the library, Geto feels bad for not being able to hear your beautiful moans, maybe there’s a book about giving back ghosts their voices? Well, the whole thing is a work in progress, but right now he’s too busy to progress that far.
You tug his hair twice, “What’s that, love? Trying to say something?” he keeps his tongue still, pressing it in your bud and shaking his head slightly, he can hear you’re trying to say something over breathy gasps, “You beggin’?” he chuckles on your core, the vibrations make you want more so you raise your other leg, “Who am I to say no to my girl…”
Suguru slides both hands to your lower back, holding you still and kicking his chair back to kneel and be face to face with your cunt.
He loved to finger you, seeing your face contorts and kissing your tears when you orgasmed on his hand, but he loves more making you cum with his mouth only. Felt so much more intimate, it was the same difference of killing someone with a weapon and with his bare hands. Not an analogy anyone can understand, but makes perfect sense to him.
Suguru laps at you like a mad man, sucking and using teeth, every tool he has to give you the orgasm of your lif—… the best orgasm you ever had.
And he knows it’s working due to your shaking thighs and arching spine.
He’s almost without air but when he notices your curving toes he tells himself to endure a bit more.
“Oh it’s coming” and soon he’s rewarded with your throbbing clit on his lips and a clear liquid being sprayed on his chin and chest. Being the tease he is, he laps at your swollen bud a bit more till you have to push him away.
“Sweet” he murmurs, kissing your shaking thigh and admiring your swollen glistening folds. You lay back to recover from the mind blowing orgasm and he sneaks a hand to grab his phone, opening the camera but frowning his eyebrows when nothing but the table getting reflected in his screen. Apparently iphone cameras don’t work on ghosts “Too bad, guess I’ll have to remember this sight” he rests his head on your thigh and reaches a finger to run across every inch of your skin like he’s drawing on your skin.
“Geto-sama, we got another check” Suda pushes the door and you sits up quickly, but her eyes are solo on Geto, a questionable look on her face, probably noticing his disheveled hair and his kneeled position on the floor, “Is everything okay?”
Suguru blinks, shifting his eyes to you and her, doubting if his fellow sorcerer really couldn’t see the half naked woman laying down and dripping on the table.
Maybe even sorcerers couldn’t see it all.
“Yes, you can give me that” he got up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, taking the envelope and closing the door.
When he turns back you are gone. Geto sighs and bumps his head on the door.
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Still managing to deal with everything that has been happening, Geto goes to the scheduled meeting in a bad mood, not having seen you since the library incident the previous day.
He’s the last one to arrive, sitting cross legged on the mat at the head of the table. Suda is on his right, taking notes on the meeting, which is boring Geto to no end.
Suda leans in, whispering a question to Geto and showing the notes while the rest of the people discuss financial matters.
“Did someone open the window? It’s so cold all of the sudden” Suda rubs her arms and Geto raises his head from the hand supporting it.
The room did get chiller.
He looks behind his shoulder and sees you, under a different light, a darker one. Your hair is floating and your face is dark, he can only see your widened eyes, they’re fixed on Suda.
Geto raises an eyebrow and discreetly pats his lap smiling at you.
The dark aura around you fades off a little bit and he can see your beautiful features again while you move your bare feet in his direction and take a seat between his legs facing him. In a natural motion he runs his hand on your hair and kisses your forehead, hoping it actually looked natural and not like he was patting an invisible person.
“Geto-sama, is this correct?” Suda leans in again, pushing her cleavage into Geto’s view and invading his — also yours — personal space.
Your head turns almost 360°, the scary things you do only turn Suguru on more. The dark aura is back again.
“Don’t be jealous” he whispers very quietly.
“What was that?” Suda asks leaning in more.
You turn the rest of your body in a ghost-like manner, reaching claw-like hand to Suda’s face.
“Yes, Manami, please pay attention” he takes your hand, guiding it slowly to his pants so you could see how happy he was to see you meanwhile his other hand raises your dress and massages your folds.
You lean back on his chest, he puts his chin on top of your head looking down at your beautiful legs extended under the table.
“Isn’t that right, Geto-sama?” Larue asks and everybody turns their attention to their mentally checked out leader. Geto notices you tensing up, like their attention is on you too. Which would be if they could see you.
Afterall, who wouldn’t want to see a gorgeous little thing melting by having her clit played with under her dress?
You two never took things out of the bedroom, so the past few weeks have been filled with new experiences.
Swiftly, Geto hooks his finger on the top of your dress bringing it down and exposing your breasts to, in reality, no one but himself, still you squeak and try to cover yourself but Geto is faster, holding both your hands behind you.
“Sounds great” he smiles at the people waiting for an answer about a topic he couldn’t care less about, instead he’s more concerned about moving the two fingers inside your gummy walls.
They get back to discussing it among themselves, Geto pretends to pay attention looking at a fixed spot and missing the way Suda is looking at him.
You don’t miss it though.
That’s how you’re supposed to look at him, you only.
It’s borderline outrageous to see her so heart eyed at your man while he’s finger-deep inside your cunt with his erection poking your lower back.
Jealousy starts to take over you again, Suguru is still holding your arms, so you use your leg to swing a move on the water jar on top of the table, shattering it and spilling the water all over Suda.
Everyone gasps, raising from the table and removing their paper to avoid getting wet too.
“What was that?!” she yells.
“Seems like we have a naughty ghost around” Geto jokes, pinching your clit, “Or it’s a sign from heavens to end this meeting, Suda please try to save these notes” he motions to her soaked notepad, “Close the door on your way out, I’ll clean this.”
“But Geto-sama—“ he knew someone would protest it.
“We’ll continue tomorrow” he said firmly, everyone bowed respectfully before leaving the room.
“Tsk tsk, that was unnecessary” he lets go of your arms, you turn around, kissing him your man and pushing his chest until he’s laying on the floor with you on top.
Geto puts his arm around you, keeping you close while playing with your tongues, he’s strong enough to hold you tight, not letting you get away from him.
Your hands go to his complicated clothing, trying to undo the knots of it and free him for you to touch.
“Here, I got this” he undoes everything that needs to be undone with one hand while still holding you, you finish pushing his clothing out of his body until every fabric that once wrapped him is thrown all over the floors of the small room.
Finally, you could see him.
Geto kisses your ear and sucks your lobe while you run your hand over his torso, a faded memory coming to your head when you touch the x shaped scar on his chest. It’s much lighter now, you remember it being a shade of purple and red, holding back your tears at the time for seeing your lover hurt like that. He ensured it was nothing, he barely felt it due to the adrenaline.
At the time you wished you were there to take care of him, to patch and clean him, now you realize you wouldn’t be able to survive if you saw him bleeding and unconscious.
Maybe it all happened for the best.
You touch his abdomen, following the happy trail down to his shaft.
Geto is so strong now, he’s big enough for you to feel small even being on top of him, his thighs support you and his strong arm ensures you stay close.
You take his dick in your hand, kissing his neck and pumping him slowly. Suguru throws his head back, moving his hand to hold your ass as you work him up. Not that he needed much, from the moment he saw you crazy jealous over Suda he was hard already. No, actually, scratch that, from the moment he saw you, he was hard already. His heart beat faster, pumping the blood that went straight to his dick.
“Alright, baby, I can’t wait anymore” he pushes your dress up, getting you completely bare like him and moving your hips until your cunt hovers above his throbbing cock. You sink on him biting your lips, a habit from when you actually had a voice to moan and thought you should keep quiet.
Geto though, moans for the two of you, not caring if anyone hears him ‘cause he’s the boss, what would they do?
The feeling of your pussy around his cock is all he can think now, if you asked him to release all his curses right now he would.
God, he missed this. No toy would ever come close to the real thing.
Geto can’t help but admire your long hair, it is like a waterfall, running through your body and pooling on his torso. He takes a strand and plays with it around his finger.
“You’re still so tight, move your pretty ass for me, yes?” you nod, adjusting your posture and setting a rhythm, “That’s it, good girl” he holds your breast, rubbing a thumb on your perky nipple and raising enough to take the other one on his mouth.
Whatever important things he had that day, it’s all canceled now. His new plan is to stay buried in your pussy and sucking your tits all day long.
“You’re doing so well, baby, but I’ll take charge now, ‘kay?” he reaches behind you to brush away the glass remains and places you on top of the table carefully, “You’re so cute” he bends to kiss you, your hands caress his back muscles, thighs holding him inside you.
You don’t let him go away, not even for an inch, not even when you need air, do you really need it though? What would happen if you didn’t breath? Die? Hah.
“So needy” he laughs softly and pecks your lips actually needing air, now he’s the one with long hair falling on your face, you brush it back and nibble on his chin, clenching around him as he hits that delicious spot.
Suguru is so pretty. Back then he had a boyish look and young charm, now he’s a man, his jawline is stronger and he lost some fat he had on his cheeks, too bad because you loved to kiss his soft cheeks. His arms are way bigger now too, when he readjusts himself to fuck you on a better angle you get a view that no sculpture in the world would ever compare. Light shines behind Suguru, his chest glistens with sweat, some strands of his hair sticking to his perfect skin, the sight of his v line alone makes your clit throb.
Geto stretches you so well and perfectly, “So good, baby.”
He's an angel, you’re convinced. Makes sense now, this is your heaven, being beside him forever, getting him to touch you in front of other people without feeling shame, haunting women that look at him with lust in their eyes.
“Nnnhg Sugu—“ you slap your mouth shocked by the actual words that came out.
“Fuck” he grabs your face kissing you hard, “Say that again” he asks thought a breathy almost desperate tone.
“Su—guru, Suguru” you moan, barely using a real voice.
“Fuck, I’m close. Can I come inside, baby? Huh?” he presses your belly down, “Maybe we should test whether you can get pregnant, that would be a miracle right? Or maybe we would have the antichrist” he smirks in a teasing way and you lightly slap his chest, not liking the idea of bearing the evil, although if he keeps thrusting like that you might change your mind.
Your legs tighten around his small waist, pulling him closer, “Squeezing me so well, I— haa“ he shuts his eyes, “‘Wanna cum with you, love” he lowers his hand to where you meet rubbing your clit with his thumb, you raise your hands to his shoulder pulling him to you until your sweaty foreheads touch.
Geto can see through your rolling eyes you’re close so he speeds up his thumb while thrusting sloppier.
“Still feels like our first time, you know?” he confesses, in love with the way you feel, not just your insides but also, your smell, your warmth, your sounds. All his sense are focused on you.
Your knot finally unties, nails sinking on his shoulder and heels pressing on his back, your mouth is hanging open while Suguru nuzzles on your cheek, “I’m losing my mind” your hips roll trying to meet his thrusts, he cums hard too, moaning majestically and filling you so much you know you won’t be able to hold it all.
“Oh baby” he runs a hand on your face, kissing you lovely. You kiss him back, putting in the gesture every word you cannot say.
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Suguru was still trying to manage his duties as a leader and as a boyfriend, at least that’s what he thinks he is since you don’t exactly have the privilege to see other people and he doesn’t even want other people.
The thing is, unlike a normal (alive) girlfriend, you can’t go with him anywhere. To be more specific, apparently you can’t even leave the premises of the temple, the furthest you can go is sitting at the engawa and dangle your feet off the edge. Suguru promised to find whatever was keeping you there and figure a way to have you around him wherever he is.
Now, he’s in Hokkaido, after holding you cold dead hands and promising he would be back soon. In the meantime you explored every inch of the floor where Suguru slept, trying to find some item that was tying you there, with no success. So you begin to wander into other areas of the temple, with Suguru gone there isn't that many people around either, and even though no one can see you, it still felt weird being around other people, especially when someone walked through you.
When you enter the praying room you notice someone there, sitting on their knees in front of a buddha statue.
Curiosity takes the best of you and you approach the man, wanting to hear what he's praying for, you bend your torso beside him, having your long hair touch the floor, you suppose it would be a scary sight, but you doubt anyone except Geto can see you at this point.
You adjust your posture, but being clumsy doesn't go away with your physical body, so you stumble and end up hitting a gong.
And of course, it doesn't go through you as it's supposed to. Whoever is in charge of deciding the moments you can touch the physical realm is a sadist.
The man who was praying is now standing up shaking like crazy, he’s asking who’s there but you cover your mouth (as if you could speak anyways). A second man enters the room, due to his traditional clothing you judge he’s an authority figure in the temple, but not being a buddhist during your lifetime you can’t be certain.
The first man is explaining what happened while you try to tiptoe your way out of this embarrassing situation (for you and scary for the man that will probably not sleep tonight).
Before you leave you can hear the second man saying this sorta thing has been happening around the temple, people are reporting a sudden cold air, things being moved out of the place and crying sounds during the night.
All your fault of course and half Geto’s fault on the last statement.
Not sad cries by the way but you can see why people would think that.
In fact, Suguru was very determined to have you voicing your pleasure, you still can’t talk, but he learned that through a very strong emotion your voice cords become stronger or at least existent for a brief moment. He’s still testing that and writing his experiments in a notebook.
Suguru says he wants to bring you back at some point but for now he can only do those kinds of experiments, you are happy to be beside him no matter what so you naturally accepts being his guinea pig, the initial resentment you had when you first saw him that day is long gone now. Is not like you have enough energy to think about your death anyways, at some point during the day you become extremely sleepy and eventually disappear, so you have to make the best out of your time with Geto.
Being back in his room you find your way under his blankets, the previous interaction seemed to have drained your energy, you should tell Geto about that so he can write it down in his notebook.
Finally.
Geto opens the car door before the vehicle fully stops at the entrance of the temple, it was only 2 days but he felt like weeks passed by.
And it wasn’t just a homesick feeling, he barely had a home. He just missed you. For years he was by himself, being satisfied with a few pictures and a perfume bottle, yet now he has the real thing — you —, one day without you hits harder than the almost ten years that went by.
It’s punishment, he knows it, the guilt must be felt, he didn’t feel it for ten years so he’s gotta feel it all in two days.
If only you could have a phone in the afterlife to facetime him…
None of that is important now, because he’s back and on his way to find you.
What he finds instead is concerning.
A familiar man with traditional clothes holds a cord and repeats a buddhist chant. The floor he lives in smells weird, in the corner of the room you have your hands around your ears, sitting on your knees and glitching like a scene playing in an old tv during a storm.
“S-Stop” he hears from you, in a strangled hoarse voice.
Suguru’s heart stops for a second, considering for the first time the chance of you being taken away from him. Again.
No, that won’t happen. That exorcism will not continue.
His heart is back, beating at its fastest now, he summons a curse, one too strong for a simple monkey, he blames his emotions for that but he smiles when he sees the half body dropping on the floor.
Your eyes are closed, hands still covering your ears, when you open them — after realizing the awful pain in your heart and head is gone — Suguru is standing in front of you, kneeling and smiling kindly.
He takes your head, running his thumb on your cheek before kissing you, trying to engrave the shape of your lips on his.
“Keep your eyes closed for me, beautiful” you obey, keeping them shut when Suguru manhandles you into his hold and gets up, bringing you to his bedroom and away from the dead body, afraid of the bad memories it may bring you.
“There you go, i’m sorry about that” he kisses your forehead sitting down at his chair with you, “Guess it’s too dangerous to leave you alone, huh?”
You snuggle on his embrace, happy to finally have him back to warm you.
Through a whisper — since that’s the loudest sound that can possibly leave your lips — you confess “I missed you” Suguru pulls you away to look at your face, you can see he’s surprised you managed to speak, he also notices the glassy look in your eyes.
“I love you” your eyes widen, it’s the first time since your death he says it.
Since your death?
“I can’t say I'm sorry” he kissed your cheek and closed your still opened eyes “but I can say I love you, i’ll always love you.”
The memory makes your eyes water.
Well, maybe it’s not the first time since your death, but the first in your afterlife.
“I’ll do whatever it takes for us to stay together.”
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🏷️ @rinntvrou @sad-darksoul @grsveeth0m @getomybeloved @sakurasimppp
note: my inbox is open for theories about this au, you can also check the #ghost!reader tag. also keep giving me ideas and i’ll keep writing 🤭
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3K notes · View notes
st-el-la-luna · 6 months
Text
Task Force 141 x Reader: Picture Day
NSFW 18+
When a guy keeps sending you unsolicited pictures, you impulsively reach out to your Task Force for help in an... Unconventional way.
→ harassment, non con receiving of nudes, asking for nudes, sending of nudes
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You don't want to do this. Really, it's not ideal. It's rash, and impulsive and, oh, right, insanely fucking stupid.
But, you're a spiteful person at heart. And, well, this would be the perfect response...
So, you open the Task Force group chat, type up a message and press send before you can stop yourself.
CorvidCorporal: hey guys
CorvidCorporal: can I ask a favour?
You don't have to wait long for a reply.
Captain Price: What is it, Corporal?
Ghost: No
DontDropthe: you know where to find me 😉
Gazoline: everything okay?
You sigh, type up another message, worrying your lip between your teeth.
CorvidCorporal: it's nothing serious
CorvidCorporal: just... weird
Captain Price: What is it?
Gazoline: weird how?
You bury your face in your hands for a moment, considering if you're really about to do this. Your phone buzzes again, a notification from a different chat. You open it and holy shit, another one? Hell no. You're going through with this.
You head back to the Task Force group chat.
DontDropthe: weird is my specialty
You can't believe you're doing this.
You type and retype the message a couple of times before eventually just pressing send. You shut your phone off, face burning, not wanting to think about what you just did.
CorvidCorporal: I need a dick pic
The little markers on the bottom of the screen indicating people are typing vanish then start up again. Vanish. Start up again. Vanish.
Oh, you're fucked.
What the hell were you thinking?! These were your coworkers! Your superiors! Your boss!
You scramble to explain yourself.
CorvidCorporal: forget I said anything!
CorvidCorporal: it's just this guy keeps sending me them unsolicited from different accounts because I keep blocking his ass
CorvidCorporal: I figured the best way to get him to stop would be to send one back
CorvidCorporal: you know a real power move
CorvidCorporal: just really blindside em
CorvidCorporal: but well... I lack the parts and if I were just to go to google the guy could easily figure that shit out
CorvidCorporal: it was stupid and impulsive and I'm so sorry I asked
CorvidCorporal: please don't fire me I need this job
CorvidCorporal: guys?
The entire chat is dead. But their icons show that each and everyone of them is still active. Even Ghost.
You curse yourself internally and knock your head against the wall. You shut your phone off and toss it away. Too overwhelming. Too much. You can't... Why did you do that?!
You sit on the foot of your bunk and mourn your career, face in your hands. Dishonorable discharge no doubt in your future... You're such an idiot!
Your phone buzzes from across the room. You ignore it.
Except it buzzes again. And again. And again. And–
By the seventh text tone you go to pick it up, almost feeling sick from the nasty knot of anxiety and dread in your gut.
You open the group chat.
You close the group chat.
Holy shit.
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
DontDropthe: see attachment
Gazoline: jesus christ soap
Gazoline: see (2) attachments
DontDropthe: see (3) attachments
Fif– sixteen pictures. Two from Gaz and fourteen from Soap.
Holy shit.
Your phone goes off again.
Captain Price: Let me know if you need anything else, Corporal
Captain Price: see (3) attachments
What the fuck?
Soap has moved on to sending you pictures directly. You dismiss a call from him in a blind panic. He immediately sends a video.
You type into the group chat with shaking hands.
CorvidCorporal: thanks
Gazoline: anytime
DontDropthe: it's only fair if you send them back
DontDropthe: i understand if your shy
DontDropthe: my doors unlocked
Captain Price: *you're
In the end, you got more than enough material to choose from.
Three from Price. Seven from Gaz. A whopping twenty nine from Soap.
You're still deciding on what picture to send (and on calming your racing heart and ignoring the growing heat between your thighs) when your phone goes off again.
Ghost: see attachment
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Comment to motivate!
masterlist!
3K notes · View notes
jjunieworld · 7 months
Text
don’t delete the kisses 。゚🎶 ⋆₊
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pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader
genre: angst, smut, ex-bestfriends to lovers, ex bff!beomgyu, musician!beomgyu, mutual (unknown) pining, fluff if you squint, non-idol!au, alcohol/drinking
synopsis: two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu. two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends. now he’s an up and coming musician and you see his face and hear his music almost everywhere in your local city; not knowing that the songs he writes are about you.
warnings: tipsy sex (consensual), soft sex basically, lots of yearning, unprotected sex (wrap it then tap it), oral (f. rec), kinda service top!beomgyu, slight overstimulation (m. rec), beomgyu is really just catering to y/n, some hair pulling (m. rec), multiple orgasms, creampie, petnames (baby), aftercare
word count: 9.3k┊v-day event masterlist┊masterlist
a/n: based off don’t delete the kisses by wolf alice and part three of my v-day event! i didn’t mean for this to be 9.3k omg. be glad i didn’t have the party hosted by jackson wang lmao.. sorry if the lyrics are kinda bad i am nawt a songwriter (there’s no like certain tune to them so reading them regularly is fine)! this beomgyu is the one i was imagining in this (he’s sooo fucking pretty). i hope you enjoy! ♡
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two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu.
it was a jarring realization; realizing that you’ve been harboring these slowly growing feelings for him all this time. it was as if one day the house was empty and the next all of the furniture and decorations were displayed and put up. like beomgyu had lived in the recesses of your mind all this time and you’ve never even known.
your acceptance was gradual, mainly because you had buried yourself in your studies along with beomgyu so you didn’t spend as much time together as you both would have wanted. he was studying music, his passion since before you’ve even known him, and you were studying writing. beomgyu was working on his debut ep and you were working on your debut novel.
you had noticed it when you started to realize how much the love interest in your novel reminded you of him. and then how much of your love interest actually was beomgyu, down to similarities in their physical description. it was a moment that beomgyu himself was present for, surprisingly.
beomgyu was sitting on your couch, strumming chords lightly and humming softly to himself as he polished up one of the songs he was writing. you were in the corner of the room at your desk, proofreading the chapter you had just written. a gasp had left your lips as you stared wide eyed at the bright white screen in front of you.
the strumming abruptly stopped as beomgyu turned to you, “what is it?” you bit down on your bottom lip as you read the paragraph over and over again. you saw him shift in the corner of your eye and knew he was about to come and see for himself. quickly, you changed the tab to the one that held your outline. “it’s nothing,” you turned, smiling over at him. “just realized that i accidentally created a huge plot hole…” beomgyu chuckled before returning back to his song.
that night, you had read over everything you’ve written so far in a flurry. beomgyu was everywhere in your novel. from the main character to the side characters to the love interest. there was no escaping him.
“shit,” you muttered as you trailed a hand down your face, throwing your laptop onto your bed as you got up to get a drink from the kitchen. tiptoeing past beomgyu’s room in your shared apartment, you reached the kitchen quietly, hopeful that you didn’t somehow wake him.
turns out that was pointless since beomgyu was leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you. you jumped and threw a hand against your chest. “why aren’t you asleep?!” you whisper-yelled, even though there was no need since it was only the two of you in the apartment. beomgyu grinned, putting the cup he was holding to his lips, “why aren’t you?” he spoke softly as well and you walked over to join him.
beomgyu shined hazily in the orange stove light and you took a sip from the glass of alcohol you poured as you looked at him. the two of you stood there for a moment, quietly taking in each other’s presence.
“so why are you awake? it’s almost four in the morning,” beomgyu asked quietly as he broke the silence. you looked towards the living room and took another sip from your glass. “i was proofreading… you?” you asked, looking back to him. “songwriting,” beomgyu responded. you hummed, nodding a little. “wanna hear what i have so far?” he then asked. you nodded more and he led you to his room.
beomgyu’s laptop was open on his bed, all kinds of cords connected to it. his guitar was strewn across it, like he had tossed it on his bed haphazardly in frustration. beomgyu picked the guitar up and sat it back on it’s stand near the wall. sitting on his bed, he patted the spot next to him so you could join. then, he put the headphones over your head and pressed play on his laptop.
music traveled through your ears. it was just the instrumental, but already you could tell how beautiful the song was gonna be. you looked over at him, a proud smile on your face when suddenly you heard his voice. it was only soft background vocals, the ones that you could barely make out, but it sounded heavenly. when the music ended, your smile stretched from ear to ear and you raised your hands to cover it. “that was beautiful, beomgyu! seriously!”
he gave you an unsure look, “is it? i’m not really sure about it. i feel like it might mess with the flow of the ep…” you shook your head rapidly, the headphones almost coming off. “no you have to keep it, it’s amazing! it’s gonna be even better once you add your voice.”
beomgyu beamed as he took in your words. “i gotta hear it again,” you grinned, pressing play on the laptop. you faintly heard beomgyu’s laugh behind the music.
you would give anything for all of your nights—or early mornings—to be exactly like this. the two of you here together, side by side. laughing together and sharing your passions together. to stay with beomgyu until the very end.
two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends.
just like you admitting and realizing your feelings for him, it was sudden. as sudden as storm clouds slowly passing over the sky and the fury of rain could be. it was late morning and the two of you were on your couch; beomgyu’s guitar in his lap and you sitting next to him as he strummed. he was playing one of the finished songs he had written, the one he had written for you. beomgyu had called it ‘graze.’
“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” you sung the lyrics together. beomgyu smiled warmly at you.
beomgyu had given you some insight into the lyrics he had written. the first part, “her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss,” was about the day you had first spoken. it was senior year of highschool and the two of you were paired together on a project. you were meeting somewhere to work on it, but you accidentally walked past the meeting place, completely passing by beomgyu unaware.
the next part, “when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” is when the two of you had gotten close; close enough to share secrets and comfort each other through the thoughts they consumed. everytime the two of you texted, you would end the conversation off with an ‘xxx.’ kisses. it had become your thing with beomgyu, so much so that he wrote it into his song.
when the song had ended, beomgyu suddenly perked up. “let me show you the song i’ve been working on! the one i showed you the other day,” he exclaimed. he started strumming chords, humming softly as he began the song. “i only have, like, one lyric for it right now,” he interjected as he continued strumming.
“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind…” beomgyu sang to the tune of his guitar. your smile faltered, but you managed to put it back in tact as beomgyu glanced up from his guitar to ask for your opinion. it was a love song he was writing. a love song for someone that wasn’t you.
“it’s beautiful, like all of your songs are. i like the new addition! how long have you been working on it?” you smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. beomgyu began to blush as he turned to set his guitar aside, moving his hair over his ears. the tips of them were red. “for a little bit now. i just can’t seem to find the words of the feelings i want to convey,” he replied.
your glass heart shattered, it’s pieces making its way into your bloodstream. piercing pieces dug into beomgyu’s skin. “who’s the lucky person?” you asked, swallowing hard. he turned back to you and smirked. “just someone i’ve known for a while... i think we’re really starting to hit it off!”
after that day, you started to distance yourself from beomgyu. at first, it was only your feelings. limiting the amount of times you touched in any way or adding space between your bodies when you were near each other. then, it was almost as if the two of you were strangers living in the same place.
beomgyu had definitely noticed. you could feel his lingering look at the back of your neck. hear his questions in the air that hangs between you. but your feelings just wouldn’t go away. maybe they were right when they said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.
you locked yourself in your room, working on and rewriting your book over and over again. trying—and failing horribly—to remove beomgyu from the caverns of it. nothing worked, but you were desperate.
one day, beomgyu was playing his guitar a little too loud while you were in your room writing. usually, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. beomgyu always made sure not to be too noisy when you were writing, even though you always told him how much it helped you to have the background music. but this time, this time was different.
you were frustrated, agitated, still deep in love, and still deep in the great unreciprocated. you had flung your door open and stormed into the living room where he was playing and yelled at him to stop.
beomgyu looked up at you with wide, shocked eyes. it was dead silent for a moment, not even the sound of your breathing was heard. too late you realized what you had done. silently, beomgyu collected his things and made his way to his room, not sparing you a single glance or even a murmur. you watched him, an apology, an excuse on your lips.
the next day after you came home from researching at the library, you found a single note from him that was left on the kitchen counter. “i can’t live here with a stranger anymore,” was all it said. finally, you noticed how empty the apartment looked. how empty it looked for a while now. beomgyu was gone, and it was all your fault.
today, you could barely walk the streets of your city without seeing his face or hearing his music.
“UP AND COMING!” the article’s title had read as they delved into an interview with your former best friend. you pushed the laptop away, even after these two years apart you couldn’t face him. not even through a screen. couldn’t face how you tore your friendship apart because you couldn’t control your own feelings. maybe love just wasn’t meant for you.
you heard a sigh from next to you. “just read it!” your friend, yeonjun, drawled. “you’re mentioned.” you let out a sigh yourself with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the laptop. “if i’m mentioned, it’s not gonna be something good.”
you scrolled down the article until you got to the part where beomgyu got interviewed. most of the questions were about his debut album and upcoming tour. you haven’t listened to any of his songs since he released his ep. hearing his voice was just too much. your eyes stopped on a question that mentioned one of the songs from his debut ep; your song.
Q. one of your more, if not most, popular song is a song called ‘graze.’ can you give us some input into what the song is about? how you came up with it? BEOMGYU: i actually had written the song for someone who i was very close to at the time. originally, the song was about the dynamics of our friendship. but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics. speaking of the lyrics, when i wrote the song i had come up with them first and the rest just kinda flowed after that. it was the first song that i had finished for my ep, and the one i was most proud of. i’m really happy that a lot of people enjoy the song!
you inhaled sharply at his answer. “but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics.” you weren’t expecting him to hold fondness for you after everything, after all this time, but his response did sting.
Q. you mentioned how the meaning of the song lyrics changed, does that tie into the title of the song? was ‘graze’ a double meaning this whole time? BEOMGYU: i guess you could say that! there wasn’t a double meaning at the beginning, but alas… to graze means to be scraped lightly in passing, to break the surface of the skin. but it also means to touch, to caress. to slightly damage or to gently touch.
Q. it also means to take in small quantities at frequent, did you know that? BEOMGYU: i didn’t! see how meanings can change!
blinking the tears brimming in the corner of your eyes away, you look back over to yeonjun. he looked at you with eyebrows raised and you shrugged at him. what did he want you to say? that you missed him? you did. that you wish things were different between the two of you? you do. what is that going to change?
“he mentioned the song he wrote! for you!” yeonjun exclaimed. you shrugged again, “he mentioned the song he wrote for someone he used to be close with. like he said, things change.” yeonjun groaned as he fell into the pillows on your bed.
shortly after beomgyu had moved out, you moved into a smaller, one bedroom apartment. it was eating away at you inside looking at how empty and lifeless your apartment you had shared with beomgyu looked. you couldn’t take how everywhere you looked, a memory of the two of you followed.
“he’s having a show at the arena downtown. we’re going,” yeonjun stated. your eyes widened and you furiously shook your head. “no… no i can’t.” two years and you crossed the street if there was a poster of him up next to the sidewalk. two years and you went everywhere with headphones, music blasting in your ears to cover his playing softly throughout the city. you couldn’t see him face to face. couldn’t watch as his smile faltered and his eyes lost their emotion as he looked at you.
yeonjun reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets, “it’s too late, i already got the tickets. i can’t watch anymore as the two of you avoid each other. it’s been two years and not once have i seen the both of you in the same room let alone on the same block.” you put your face into your hands as you leaned over onto the bed, groaning loudly.
somehow you forgot that beomgyu and yeonjun were also friends. close friends at that. the two of them were friends before you and beomgyu were. you wanted to curse at the sky. “and don’t even try to find some way out of it either. i will drag you there kicking and screaming if i have to.” yeonjun added.
“but i have to finish writing my bo—“ you started before yeonjun swiftly cut you off. “it’s this weekend, so you have the whole week to prepare yourself.”
when you were alone that night in the comforting isolation of your bedroom, you let yourself scroll through your old messages with beomgyu. let your eyes wander over the ‘xxx’ at the end of your messages. you fingers moved on their own as they began typing out a message.
old apologies, old excuses. you had the nerve to add ‘xxx’ at the end like the two of you were still who you once used to be. you deleted the kisses at the end, deleted the message altogether. it’s not that you would ever send it anyways.
you thought about how your life would be if you and beomgyu weren’t strangers now. if you were more than best friends, getting to know each other again. you imagined late nights of you taking him out to bars in celebration of his new releases. pressing proud kisses to his lips as the alcohol and your love warmed the both of your bodies. shaking your head to yourself, you pushed the thoughts away. no use in daydreaming.
the damning beat of your heart got louder and louder the closer you and yeonjun got to the arena. the closer and closer you got to beomgyu. at the rate your heart was going, the sheer loudness would create a guilty beat for everyone to sing along to.
you handed in your tickets and made your way to the floor. when you read the tickets and saw that they were for the floor, you almost killed yeonjun. you thought you could be sly and sit somewhere in the seats, somewhere where beomgyu wouldn’t have a high possibility of seeing you. you were wrong.
yeonjun grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to the stage. when he tried to pull you right up against the barricade, you pulled away from him and he sighed. the two of you settled close to the stage, but not so close that you’d be touching noses with beomgyu. a compromise.
the lights had dimmed and the crowd had filed in until it was jam packed in the arena. your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride. he did it, he really did. he achieved the one thing he wanted the most, and you couldn’t be prouder of him for it.
the band came on stage and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams from all around you. you looked over to yeonjun, who was cheering along with them. you laughed, the sound being covered, but still there nonetheless. everything only got louder when beomgyu stepped onto the stage. you swear the girl next to you almost passed out.
when you saw him, the spotlight illuminating him—making him look like all of the stars in the sky, it was as if it was only the two of you in the room. the crowd of people around you faded and your breath hitched when he started to look over the crowd with a big warm smile. your face heated and you looked away, hiding so he wouldn’t see you. it’s been a while since you’ve done that.
what were you doing here? what was yeonjun thinking? that he would see you in the crowd and everything would fall into place? that he would call your name and the crowd would part as you made your way to the stage? that he’d take your hand and kiss you in front of everyone, in front of the whole world to see? what a stupid thought.
you wanted to leave but you were trapped from all sides. beomgyu sat on the chair that was placed in the center of the stage, his one and only guitar on his knee that you’ve become so accustomed to. “how is everyone doing tonight? well, i hope!” he said, strumming the strings of his guitar lightly. the crowd erupted again, words barely audible.
shaking your head, you grabbed yeonjun’s arm. “i can't do this, yeonjun. i want to go home.” he turned to you with furrowed eyebrows of worry. the girl next to you gave you an ear to ear smile, “i know right? isn’t he just so dreamy!” in turn, you gave her a barely disguised grimace and turned back to yeonjun. yeonjun laughed at your reaction, “get over it! let him sing to you! we’re staying.” he turned back to the stage and you realized that beomgyu had already began playing a song.
not just any song, the song that he wrote for you. he was singing ‘graze.’ yeonjun smirked at you and you’ve realized you’ve fallen into his trap. vaguely, you remembered that beomgyu always started out his shows with the song he had written for you. you wanted to use his guitar to bash your head in.
“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” beomgyu sang softly to the tune of his guitar. the live band behind him made the song more layered, in a way you haven’t heard since you’ve first heard the finished song.
“under newborn stars, we bear witness, we watched it all begin. i feel the heat of mars, my worn guitar, like her fingers against my skin,” beomgyu continued the song, the crowd singing along with him. you felt glassy tears in your eyes, threatening to fall. you couldn’t open your mouth to sing, not after all of the circumstances, so your heart sang for you. it was quiet, left only for the empty cathedrals of your ribs to echo back to you.
once he stopped singing, the music continued for a moment, letting everyone take in the song. beomgyu closed his eyes against the bright lights, his hands resting on the edge of his guitar. just as the song ended he opened them, an emotion you couldn’t quite make out in his eyes.
“now, for this next one, it took me a long time to write. two years in fact,” beomgyu spoke as he looked around at the crowd, a slight laugh in his tone. his eyes had just missed yours on his journey and you reeled back slightly in shock, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i just couldn’t seem to find the words to the feelings i wanted to convey. but luckily for you all, i managed to find them,” beomgyu smiled as he adjusted his guitar. “this one’s called ‘tattoos on strangers.’”
those words sounded strangely familiar. out of the corner of your eye, you saw yeonjun look over at you as the crowd cheered. you couldn’t even move to look back at him, to ask why he was staring. you were entirely focused on beomgyu. on the way he looked around the crowd with twinkling love in his eyes. the way he fiddled with his guitar like he was antsy to let the music flow out of him. it entranced you, dazzled you, entrapped you.
beomgyu inhaled sharply, the sound catching in the mic in front of him, as he strummed the chords of one of his songs you’ve never heard before. “we’re two moths to a burning flame; they call us icarus. now all that’s left between our bodies is the sinking bitterness. our eyes are on the sky, the lies we tell each other are to blame.” you gasped at how heavenly he sounded. at the melodic symphonies he was creating. at how familiar yet so unfamiliar the song sounded to you.
there was a beat as the live band picked up volume. “we’re waltzing together, we’ve gone too far. but we can’t help ourselves, we’re sinful, we’re brand new burning stars. gravity is starting to pull us closer and closer, you say it’s starting to lead to our demise. but don’t worry, baby, our silence—the heaviness between us, will be the disguise,” beomgyu continued. his eyes were squeezed shut as he sang. it made you wonder who he intended the song to be for if he was reacting this way.
“there’s no need to apologize, we’ve witnessed this before, i know your true name. like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain. too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind. don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time,” beomgyu sang as the song came to an end. suddenly it was as if a light switch lit up the dark room in your brain, a certain lyric ringing bells inside.
“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind,” you understood why the song sounded familiar to you. it was the song beomgyu was working on right before the two of you stopped being bestfriends. another thought hit you so hard that you stumbled back into the person behind you and yeonjun gave you another worried look. you stared back at him, eyes wide open.
two lyrics stood out to you, “like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain,” and “don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time.” you turned to look back up at beomgyu, just as he started singing another song. his eyes were traveling the crowd and at that moment, his eyes connected with yours. they widened and he started to blink rapidly for a second, like he couldn’t believe that you were looking at him.
at the same time, both of your eyes traveled to yeonjun, who in turn gave a sheepish smile. he set the two of you up. desperately you wanted to leave, but yeonjun’s hand around your wrist and the crowd wouldn’t let you.
‘graze’, you knew for a fact was for you, but ‘tattoos on strangers’? there was no denying that he wrote the song about you, down to the referencing lyrics. down to the “don’t delete the kisses at the end.” oh god, you thought, oh god. this whole time… this whole time, he was singing about you. he was singing about you when you thought he was singing about someone else and you ruined it. you ruined everything.
suddenly, it was getting hard to breathe with everyone around you and with beomgyu’s eyes on you. he tried hard to make it look like he wasn’t singling you out, but every couple seconds his eyes would lock on you again. you had no choice but to sit and endure. endure his stare, the slight wildness in his look. endure all the songs from his debut album that you never heard; all of which were about you. all of them. endure the way his heart called out to yours, echoing through his songs, and the way yours called back.
your eyes connect once more—just for the briefest of moments—before you looked away, shyness taking over. your face—no, your whole body—felt like it was on fire. just like a brand new burning star. you felt like all eyes were on you, when in reality all eyes were on him.
finally, you looked up again as he announced the last song in the setlist—‘forethought.’ your eyes meet just as he sings, his eyes only on you, “oh, i hear her voice in the wind sometimes. has she given me any thought? i go back to the pastimes—like wind chimes, it’s not all for naught. my wet knees in the winter, it’s my hopeful crime, it’s my savior... it’s my desperate prayer, i scream out her name into the dying nature—it leads me out the maze so i’m with her. it’s a stranded forethought.” you feel tears well up into your eyes and you see tears well up in beomgyu’s too, hidden by the bright lights to the crowd, but not to you. never to you.
after a moment, he repeats with eyes closed in a silent plea, “don’t linger, don’t linger, light bringer, don’t linger. stay with me—send me your remembrances. please, don’t delete those kisses. don’t linger, light bringer. don’t linger.” the tears fall freely from your eyes at the way his voice softly echoes. echoes just like wind chimes in the blowing wind. you feel yeonjun pull you into a hug as a sob escapes your lips.
you don’t register the concert ending, the crowd getting smaller and smaller until there’s only a few stragglers. you move numbly as yeonjun pulls you along behind him. it’s not until you hear a familiar voice, beomgyu’s voice, that you suddenly come back to life.
yeonjun has taken you backstage. the two of you were making your way over to where beomgyu was standing, talking to someone you didn’t recognize, as he packed up his guitar. again, your eyes met, and you pulled your wrist from yeonjun’s grasp. you turned, wild eyes scanning for an exit as your feet moved without needing your input. “y/n, wait!” you heard voices from behind you. you kept going, the fear pushing you forwards faster.
it wasn’t until you were in front of the night bus, voices behind you as you pushed whatever money you had into the bus driver's hands, that you finally felt like you could breathe. the doors closed and the bus began moving as beomgyu and yeonjun ran up waving frantically. the bus kept moving. you looked through the window, terrified wide eyes reflecting back to you in the glass, at their fading figures. at beomgyu’s dejected eyes and yeonjun’s sorrowful ones. at the breaking of your heart, once again.
sighing heavily to yourself, you faced the front of the bus. what has gotten into you? why would you let yourself think that beomgyu would wait for you after these two long years? it was clear to you that what happened at that concert was a goodbye. and maybe you were okay with that. maybe you didn’t mind. you wiped the tears from your cheeks. it’s okay, you’ve always worked better on your own anyways. without the constant tingling of growing feelings, without the heavy stares that hold so much, without the newborn stars—without beomgyu.
when you get home, you waste no time with the alcohol you have. turning your phone off, locking all your doors and shutting all the curtains. you lay on your bed, drunk out of your mind looking up at the ceiling as you think, what if love’s not meant for me?
five days ago, you went to your ex-bestfriend’s concert and listened as he poured his heart out onto the stage for you; while you ran away from him like the echo of a wind chime in the wind.
beomgyu has taken over your mind. has soared through the mountains of your thoughts and settled gently in the valleys of your desires. lingered in the lakes and puddles and the big vast ocean of your memories. all you’ve been thinking about since the concert was him. he’s completely consumed you.
you had scrolled up and down your messages together, laughing at old jokes and shedding tears at old memories. retelling the jokes he made to yourself and pretending that they were yours to begin with as a permanent smile etched itself onto your features.
maybe this all was a sign. a sign that you should stop hiding in the four walls of your bedroom. a sign that you should find some way to contact beomgyu, rekindle the friendship you once used to have and maybe fan the flames of something greater. you wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much you loved beomgyu. tell the whole world about how he makes you feel and every little thing he does that just fills you with so much warmth.
you were scrolling through the photo album you still had of the two of you. at your silly faces and candid moments. you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face if you wanted to. you felt like a teenage girl, giggling softly as she wrote her crushes name in hearts all over her notebooks. wide smile as she wrote in her diary about how much her crush rocked her world. you didn’t care, you couldn’t help it. beomgyu did—he really did—make you feel this way. he’s turned your whole world upside down.
electricity flowed through you until you were so antsy and electric that you just had to do something before it drove you insane. you needed to tell beomgyu, to let whatever was between the two of you happen. needed to have him around you again after these two long years, even if just briefly. god, you felt like such a romantic cliché, but you felt alive.
opening your phone, you finally replied to all of the messages that yeonjun had sent you. they spanned from worried to disappointed to a resigned sadness. you only sent him one message in response:
you: is he still here?
you held your breath, mentally smacking yourself for not looking up beomgyu’s tour dates beforehand. mentally smacking yourself for not garnering the courage earlier. how stupid you were. your phone dinged from yeonjun’s reply:
jjunie: party tonight at 11:30pm. i’ll pick you up around 11. be ready.
breathing out a sigh of relief you looked at the clock. it was already 10pm. you raided your closet for your best looking outfit, throwing it on as you ran to your bathroom to put makeup on. you wanted to look your absolute best.
11pm couldn’t come fast enough. you were waiting by the door when yeonjun had knocked, him barely getting his second knock in before you flung the door wide open. “is it too late?” you asked him desperately, standing limply in the doorframe. yeonjun just chuckled at you and grabbed your wrist, leading you to his car, “never. not for the two of you.”
on the way over, yeonjun told you how the party was thrown by some big celebrity you never heard of and how beomgyu got the two of you invites. it was for such a good start on his sold out tour and debut album. “like, everyone is gonna be there,” yeonjun said to you as he drove around to find a parking space.
once you found somewhere to park, you and yeonjun made your way to the venue where the party was being held. you passed through all kinds of security until you were faced with blasting music in your ears and bodies dancing everywhere. holding tightly onto yeonjun to not get lost, the two of you scanned the crowd.
“do you want to get a drink?” yeonjun yelled over the music to you. you nodded and he led you through the crowd to where the bar was. the two of you got something and drank them silently by the bar. you felt bad for keeping yeonjun tied to you, so you yelled over the music to him, “you can go and mingle! i’ll be fine over here by myself!” he leaned towards you, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?” he asked and you nodded.
yeonjun made his way through the crowd, turning his charm on as he talked to various people. you stayed at the bar, sipping on various drinks until you felt very tipsy. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for beomgyu, every minute or so.
that’s when you saw him. he was across the room, holding a glass of something and talking to a group of people, when his eyes drifted and just happened to meet yours. beomgyu rendered you completely speechless. you got a good look at him, not being able to do so that well from his place on the stage, and took in how much he’s changed in the past two years.
beomgyu’s short brown hair was now dark, tinged blue in the low scattered overhead lights. the back of it touched the nape of his neck and the front fell over his eyes and ears. he looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful than you remember him being. his eyes widened at seeing you, making the natural liner of his eyes stand out.
suddenly, just like at the concert, it felt like it was only the two of you in the room. his eyes widened at seeing you again, his mouth opening slightly. without knowing it, the two of you gravitated towards each other. then you were face to face, standing in front of each other in the flesh. you couldn’t believe it.
you both said each other’s names at the same time, letting out a nervous laugh after. he motioned for you to continue and you swallowed hard. you were thankful that you were tipsy, that the alcohol was smoothing your nerves, because you definitely wouldn’t be standing in front of beomgyu right now if you weren’t.
“beomie…” you trailed before correcting yourself, you didn’t want to pretend to know him like you use to after two years. “beomgyu… there’s no excuse. no apology even sincere enough—“ beomgyu had cut you off, “y/nie, you don’t have to apologize.”
you shook your head. you knew that you didn’t, that he had already forgiven you and moved past it. hell, he wrote a song about it. but you had to. you had to apologize in at least some way. “no, i do,” you stated. “i shouldn’t have let us drift away, shouldn’t have let us become strangers. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. you were my bestfriend and i was scared. i like you so much, so much that you enveloped me completely. my mind, my book, my life… everything.”
you inhaled deeply, looking longingly into beomgyu’s eyes like you had wanted to do now for so long. “all i thought about was you. all i think about is you. and i miss you. i missed you so much, beomgyu. i love you. i’ve always loved you—“ beomgyu sat his glass on the nearby table as you spoke, then cupped your face gently with both of his hands and collided his lips to yours in a passionate kiss to cut you off. it told you everything he was feeling, everything he’s felt for you for who knows how long now. you felt his song lyrics on your lips. felt how every last lyric was written for you, every melody. every atom of your being colliding with every atom of his and creating a beautiful newborn star.
when he pulled away, he pulled you into a desperate and tight hug. he held you so tight it was as if he thought you were a bird that would fly away. you couldn’t blame him, you kind of were. “i don’t think i need to tell you how much i love you, but i will. i’ll sing it in your ear softly and scream it at the top of my lungs for all the stars to witness, y/n. i love you,” beomgyu murmured into the crook of your neck.
you took his hand and led him out the venue. when you suddenly remembered that yeonjun took you here, beomgyu chuckled as he took you to his car. in the warm glow of your city at night, you pointed to various street signs and turns as beomgyu drove to your apartment.
inside your apartment, the two of you couldn’t keep your mouths off each other. the wanting—the need—lifting you up to cloud nine and making you dizzy. when you both somehow got to your bedroom, you were breathless and hot to the touch.
beomgyu had pulled away from you. “is this okay?” he asked, looking into your eyes. you saw the desire inside of them. you nodded, “yes, just please don’t stop kissing me.” and he obliged, his lips on yours again.
one by one, articles of clothing came off. there was brief awkwardness, the hem of your dress getting caught on the earrings you were wearing and the button of his pants refusing to come undone. it all was alright in the end when the two of you were laying on your bed, you only in your bra and panties and him only in his boxers, his huge bulge pressing into your thigh as he hovered above you.
you were growing needy, the alcohol edging you onwards. “beomgyu… i need you inside me,” you whimpered against his mouth as his hard boner rubbed against you. he hummed, lips moving to your neck, causing you to moan. “i need you to fuck me…” you breathed out. beomgyu pulled away with the slightest upturn of his lips.
he sat you up so that you were now straddling his lap as he reached behind you and unclasped your bra. “next time…” beomgyu murmured. “next time i’ll fuck you. but not tonight. tonight… we stop being strangers.” you shivered slightly at your already hardened nipples being exposed to the cool air. shivering more when beomgyu’s wet tongue circled them.
“is that okay?” beomgyu asked, staring into your eyes as he waited for your response. you nodded, unintentionally grinding against him, and moaned out, “yes.” his fingers had gripped your bare waist at the contact and his eyes shut tightly for a brief moment. “next time… i promise you. let me get to know your body again.”
and get to know your body, he did. beomgyu laid you back down gently and then pulled off your panties slowly while staring down at you, eyes caressing every inch of you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, gripping the blankets to keep yourself from pulling him to you.
beomgyu pressed his lips to yours once more as he spread your legs apart. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin as he moved farther and farther down your body, looking up at you the entire time. you jolted slightly when he pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs. “you’re so breathtaking, even more than before,” beomgyu spoke, trailing kisses up to your knee. he paused for a second, “i missed you so much, y/n.”
his tongue then swirled around your clit and your back arched off the bed, your hands finding their way into his pretty hair. beomgyu groaned, pulling away from your core with a wet mouth, as you pulled at it. just as quickly, he was back at it, making you moan for him as he devoured you. you creating pretty harmonies for him.
“fuck…” beomgyu said lowly. you could see how hard his cock was in his boxers and it made you need him even more. he then pushed two fingers into you, them slipping in easily with how wet you were for him. beomgyu pulled you up from the bed as he continued pushing his fingers in and out of you, tipping your head back and capturing your lips in a sweet and slow kiss. your tongues danced together, waltz together as you clenched around his fingers.
pulling away, you buried your face in his neck as you whimpered his name. “cum for me, baby,” beomgyu said in your ear softly. you didn’t need to be told twice, your warm release spreading all over his fingers.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i-i need you, please… your—your fingers aren’t e-enough.” beomgyu chuckled as he nodded. you released your hold on him so he could take off his boxes, his long and hard cock on full display for you. you used to dream of moments like these.
beomgyu looked at you, asking silently if you were ready. in response, you shakily got to your knees. he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly, you slid down onto him. the both of you gasped at the feeling, moans joining together in a beautiful song as you moved up and down on his cock.
you were giving each other sloppy and needy kisses, beomgyu wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer as he thrusted up into your pussy. you gasped against his lips, your hands laying to rest against his chest. he whimpered as he continued thrusting, “you feel so—so good. so good, baby. do you f-feel good?”
“y—oh… it feels s-so good,” you managed out. you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust he pushed into you. with the feeling of his veiny shaft inside you, sending electric currents throughout your body. the feeling of his lips on yours. moaning, you pulled away and rested your forehead on beomgyu’s. “i’m gonna c-cum again, gyu.”
he moved you so your back was against the bed again, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still deep inside you. groaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. “let me help you, baby. l-let me do the work,” beomgyu mumbled before you kissed him.
in passionate thrusts, you came around him again and a few seconds later you felt his warm cum pour inside of you. his hips jerked against yours and he let out a whine as he rolled into you, not planning on slowing down. “b-beomgyu…” you whimpered, gripping him tighter and throwing your head back so you were staring hazily at the ceiling. you didn’t know how much more you could take.
“l-look at me, my pretty baby, i n-need to see your face,” beomgyu said between hard pants. between the sounds of your skin slapping together and the wet sounds of him entering and exiting you repeatedly. you looked at him through knitted brows, your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. “f-fuck… god, you d-don’t know what you d-do to me,” he murmured, eyes shutting for a moment. you pulled him down to kiss his jaw. “feels… feels so…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you clenched around him again.
beomgyu was twitching inside you more and more and you could tell he was overstimulating himself just to make you feel good. his words of praise were being slurred as he stared deeply into your eyes, breathing erratically.
when the two had came together, you couldn’t take anymore. your legs were shaking badly and your back was beginning to ache from how much you kept arching it. pushing beomgyu away until he was hovering above you, you barely managed to whimper out in a whisper, “c-can’t take it a-anymore, beomie…”
at your words he slipped out of you slowly, groaning loudly as you clenched tightly around his poor cock the whole way out. “y/n…” beomgyu moaned. he hovered above you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours and arms trembling, before falling down next to you. beomgyu pulled you towards him until you were wrapped in his body. you tried not to think about how his still half hard cock was up against your sensitive pussy. his breath fanning your skin and sending a shiver up your spine.
the two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, coming down from your highs and breathing the same air. beomgyu had been trailing lines down your torso with the tips of his fingers, leaving goosebumps in his wake. you could feel his smile against your cheek at the way your body reacted to his touch.
when you both were strong enough to get up, he cleaned the cum from between your legs and his with a warm and wet towel and then guided you to the bathroom. beomgyu drew a bubble bath for the both of you, helping you inside of it when your legs began to shake and your knees almost gave out.
now you laid back against his chest inside the bathtub, one of his hands trailing up and down your arm with a washcloth and the other wrapped tightly against your lower stomach. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this…” beomgyu trailed off softly. you turned slightly so you could look up at him. “you don’t know how long i wanted this either. how long i wanted to be with you in general.”
beomgyu smiled warmly down at you, that same warm smile he would give you every time you sang together. “how long?” he asked, playfulness slipping into his tone. “for as long as i can remember,” you giggled. “for as long as i’ve known you.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, the action sending ripples to your heart. “i’ve wanted it for longer,” he replied, laughing when you playfully scoffed up at him. “this isn’t our first life together.”
that sentiment made you turn in the tub to face him fully, your eyebrows knitting together and your eyes full of fondness. it almost brought tears to your eyes. “beomgyu…” you murmured as you cupped his face softly and brought your lips to his. you kissed him slowly, trying to show him how much you loved him through it. your actions and words alone will never be able to fully express how you feel for him.
after the two of you cleaned up more in the bath, you laid side by side in your bed. thankfully, you still had some of beomgyu’s clothes that you just couldn’t get rid of from when you still lived together and you would steal them. you were in one of beomgyu’s old shirts now, body up against his in the darkness of your bedroom.
“i’m gonna miss you when you leave to go back on tour. i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered softly into the darkness. you weren’t very good at expressing your fears out loud, clearly. but you had to let him know. had to let him know that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing and you never see each other again. “so come with me,” beomgyu replied at your same tone, simply. “come with me and we won’t have to miss each other.”
you couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of the song he wrote for you, the one the two of you would sing together. “over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss.” he was right about ‘graze’ having a whole new meaning in his interview. first, it meant the longing between the two of you. always dancing around each other, fingertips always seeming to just brush up against the other’s but never fully grasping. then, it meant the two of you drifting apart. missing the opportunity to admit your feelings and be together. and lastly, right now. right in this moment, the two of you together again after two long years. missing each other until your heart aches even though you’re right next to each other. it is funny how meanings change.
“okay,” you giggled softly. “i’ll come with you.” you weren’t going to linger. he was right, this wasn’t your first life together, you could feel it. you were gonna stay with him forever. beomgyu pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
last night, your world was turned back on it’s rightful axis as you and your bestfriend beomgyu—your lover beomgyu, sealed the two of your souls together.
that morning you both had woken up to a ton of missed calls and a plethora of text messages. you both stared at each other with wide eyes after realizing that the two of you had basically silently walked out of the celebration that was held for beomgyu. yeonjun scolding the two of you when he realized that not only was beomgyu not at his own party, but that you weren’t there either.
quick kisses and giggles were shared as beomgyu raced to get ready for the schedule he had to do today. “text me, okay? i want to hear from you. i’ll let you know when we’re leaving for the next stop, so get your bags ready,” beomgyu said, throwing his coat on and pressing another kiss to your lips, deepening the kiss for just a moment before he pulled away.
you were standing by the door, a lovesick smile on your face, “i will!” you giggled as he stalled more and pulled you into a hug. “and don’t delete the kisses,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before finally making his way through the door. you waved goodbye to him and shut the door, immediately pulling out your phone.
you: i’ll see you later today. good luck on your interview! xxx
there was an immediate response from him and you giggled as you read it and responded.
beomie: thank you, baby! i love you!! you: i love you more!! xxx beomie: i love you more than there are stars in the sky!!! you: and i love you more than there are galaxies in our universe!!!! xxx beomie: okay… you win… but only because i can’t think of anything better!!!
laughing, you went to your room and started packing the things you needed for beomgyu’s tour.
two years ago—four since the beginning—you left the kisses at the end of your messages to your boyfriend beomgyu.
you were backstage just before one of his shows with him and yeonjun. beomgyu’s arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side. your mouth was currently hung open in shock at yeonjun’s revealing news.
“i’m sorry, y/nie, but i just had to tell him. two years i had to listen to the both of you cry over each other—two years! i couldn’t do it anymore. i had to tell him about the things you were saying!” yeonjun sighed dramatically as if he were so defeated. you pushed his shoulder lightly, “you ass! then you had the nerve to set the two of us up at beomgyu’s concert with the tickets he gave you!”
beomgyu let out a laugh from next to you, laughing louder when you turned a playful glare to him. “if i didn’t…” yeonjun trailed as he spoke to you with raised eyebrows, “you two wouldn’t be together right now. now would you?” you rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around beomgyu and laying your head on his chest.
“i’d like to think we would find our way back together,” beomgyu spoke, looking down at you. you smiled up at him in return. “uh huh…” said yeonjun, causing the three of you to erupt into laughter.
since beomgyu’s debut album and tour to go along with it, he’s released two more albums. all of the songs about you, once again. in every interview he had, he gushed about you to whoever would listen. you’ve also finally published your book, deciding to let beomgyu’s essence flow through the entirety of it. you couldn’t remove him even if you tried. and trust, you had tried.
one of the staff members gave a signal to beomgyu and he nodded back and gave a thumbs up. it was almost time for him to be on stage. for the first time ever, you were singing ‘graze’ and ‘forethought’ together with their whole new meanings.
you stared at beomgyu’s stunning side profile as he peeked out to the crowd. you almost laughed at yourself, at your past thoughts. of course love was meant for you. of course you and beomgyu were meant to be together, meant to be in love. meant to share each of your lifetimes and universes and supernovas and nebulas and brand new brightly burning newborn stars together.
of course the two of you were meant to love each other forever, how could you ever think differently?
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world-of-evil · 2 years
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nothing causes a more visceral reaction in me than todd and jesse interactions in el camino
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bookshelf-dust · 7 months
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baby love, my baby love
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gif by @corrodedcherry
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 1,880
warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things
a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love
————
“Where’s my girl at?”
Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne. 
You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you. 
When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you. 
“Hey, bug,” he says.
You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.
You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture. 
Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”
At least he’s honest.
You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”
He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”
You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way. 
“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”
Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”
“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.” 
You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.
The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip. 
“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache. 
“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”
You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say. 
He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen. 
“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”
That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.
You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks. 
He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”
You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 
You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke. 
Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.
You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.
You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places. 
He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh. 
You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his. 
Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes. 
When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will. 
“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.
“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”
Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does. 
————
Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it. 
After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body. 
You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.
“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth. 
Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”
You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves. 
“Mhm. That felt so good.” 
You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.
He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”
You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”
You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.
“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 
You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.
Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours. 
Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth. 
“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”
————
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wooahaes · 7 months
Text
svt - with a shy partner
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pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader
prompt: svt with a partner who is shy(/kinda anxious).
genre: mostly fluff. established relationship in all.
warnings: reader getting anxious. some food mentions throughout. alcohol/clubbing mentions in soonyoung's (reader has a shitty time) + mentions of reader having shitty friends in soonyoung's. seungkwan yelling at someone being a dick in his. vernon fakes sick. usage of 'dude' as a term of endearment in vernon's. minghao being affectionately evil. chan being a lovable menace for a moment to distract them (teasing + tickling reader). intentional lowercase, no proofreading.
daisy’s notes: sorry some of these are longer than the others, i just wanted to write mostly affectionate sweet established relationships. also this is probs veering into anxiety territory at some points im sure.
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choi seungcheol
seungcheol knew that you loved him softly. this would never be an issue with him: some people simply weren't loud when it came to loving others, and he was never going to turn away your subtle touches and loving words. being outgoing was hard for you even now in life, where seungcheol had learned to manage it well. therefore, he knew how to take care of you in social situations. he would lead conversations when you were faltering, and he always stayed close to you just to give you someone to latch onto when things were getting to be too much. shy as you were, you still tried sometimes.
and now he was on his way to save you from yet another conversation with the only two friends of his you allowed to tease you.
joshua was snickering at whatever jeonghan had said to you to make you shrink into your sweater (the one that matched seungcheol's, with the heart patches on the elbows), and you looked as though you might drown yourself in the soft fabric if jeonghan didn't stop. but seungcheol knew as well as you did that all it would take is you saying a firm 'quit it' for both men to back off. they were harmless, through and through. but the moment seungcheol was close enough, you already sought refuge at his side, burying your face into his sweater. he could feel your face burning hot.
"what are you saying to them now?" seungcheol rolled his eyes, arm wrapped around you. "are you trying to kill them?"
"all i did was point out that you two are matching again," jeonghan hummed. "it's not my fault they get embarrassed when i point it out."
joshua rolled his eyes. "cheollie to the rescue again."
"shua!" you peeked back at him, lips pressed into a very cute pout. "cheollie, they're bullying me again..."
seungcheol fought back a laugh. that was always how these things played out. jeonghan and joshua, two of your longtime friends, would tease you a little, and then you would pout at your cheollie while he protected you. hell, the latter half was usually how seungcheol saved you from other silly things. he'd been the "excuse me, they asked for no pickles" kind of boyfriend to you time and time again... mainly because he knew you'd hold your tongue otherwise, trying not to bother people. but with these two? you were comfortable playing this little game.
so seungcheol squared up a little. "are they?"
jeonghan rolled his eyes. "here they go again." and he grabbed joshua by his elbow, leading him away with an excuse. if seungcheol hadn't been matching you, maybe they would have played... but something about matching anything gave seungcheol this weird boost of strength.
seungcheol rolled his eyes in turn, wrapping his arms around you as he turned his attention away from them. "i'm glad you're okay with them, you know." he let out a blissful sigh. "it's cute to see you embarrassed."
"cheollie..." you pouted again, eyes meeting his own. you glanced around the room, suddenly acutely aware of how you'd been holding onto him. no doubt your face was burning hot with embarrassment again. "can we go home now?"
he chuckled, leaning to kissing the top of your head. "we can," he promised. "let's go."
yoon jeonghan
if there was one thing that endeared jeonghan to you, it was the cute flustered expression you had whenever he started flirting with you. no matter how long the two of you had been dating, all he had to do was call you adorable to see your eyebrows shoot up, lips agape as you made some comment about how the two of you were 'past that' now. his favorite moments, however, were these: you were trapped on one end of the couch, legs draped over his lap, and he was toying with you idly. sometimes it'd be admiring your hands, or complimenting your hair, or pointing out how much he admired you sense of style...
today? he'd been pinching your cheeks with that wicked giggle you loved (even if you refused to admit it sometimes). "you're just so cute," he snickered. "i'm so lucky..."
"hannie..." you whined, eyes still pinned to the tv screen. "you're missing it."
your face was burning hot underneath his touch, though. a little win in his book. "i'm trying to appreciate you right now," he teased. his gaze flickered back to the tv, where the male lead was (finally) confessing his love. "what does he have that i don't?"
"jeonghan, i--'
"do you like him more than me?" he teased you further, leaning in. "i could be him. he couldn't be me, though."
your gaze met jeonghan's as you pouted a little, yet never pulled away from his touch. "jeonghan..."
"i'll re-do my confession to you," he dropped one hand to rest on the outside of your thigh, leaning in. that jovial expression dropped for a moment as he became completely serious for a moment, playing it up all too well, "i'm in love with you. do you... could you be in love with me, too?" he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. "i know you once loved joshua, but--"
and that was your breaking point as you pushed his hand away, already snorting. "jeonghan!"
before you could try to dive away from him, jeonghan had wrapped his arms around you, that airy laugh punctuating his break in character. he pulled you back in, head resting on your shoulder. "you're too easy to mess with," he giggled. "you should have never told me you had a crush on joshua, by the way."
you rolled your eyes, snuggling in. "noted."
joshua hong
joshua knew how to calm you down when your shyness was getting the better of you. he wordlessly wrapped his own stretchy, bead bracelets around your wrist, and ran his thumb across the beads. you told him once that it helped you for some reason (you'd never figured out the cause), and that had been enough for joshua to always keep at least one bracelet on him. even in a formal event like this. you had made the sacrifice of coming to his work event with him, the lead he could do was ensure you were taken care of.
one of the higher-ups had struck up conversation with you, and joshua knew that it made you far more nervous. you'd answered their questions as best as you could about your own work, your college, your life... and the occasional stammer was enough to give you away to him. joshua knew you were terrified of slipping up, of saying the wrong thing. he'd been the one who spoke for you in several other situations, but he knew what other people would think if he kept doing it. he shouldn't speak for you. or, even worse, that you were rude for not speaking for yourself. he could stand people thinking badly of him, but of you?
he'd silently rolled the bracelet off his own wrist while no one was looking, and pulling it over your own when pretending to inspect your watch. it looked out of place at this formal event, but it was fine. he kept a hold on your hand, thumb running across the beads. for a moment, you looked at joshua, and then gave him the subtlest of smiles before resuming your space.
when he brought it up, you already had an answer. "it's because you're there with me," you told him later that night while sitting outside of a burger place. you'd been stealing his fries, but he didn't care. he was out of that place, and so were you. you could take everything if you wanted. you'd already taken his heart, what else did he have left that wasn't yours already?
"but you know that." he said. his tie was loose around his neck, the top few buttons undone. his jacket had been left in the car he left parked down the street. the two of you needed a real meal after the appetizers (or the 'horse divorce' as you had whispered to him to get him to laugh) were barely enough to feed either of you. "i'm never gonna leave you alone in situations like this."
"i know." you averted your gaze when you said it, ever the bashful one when it came to acknowledging his affections. "i just... i like it when i know you're there. and i like wearing the bracelets you make. it just makes me feel more connected to you, if that's okay."
he leaned over, lips pressing against your cheek. "that's always okay," he said, voice softer. "we're a team. i've got you, alright?"
you smiled again that same sweet smile he'd kiss goodnight forever if you'd let him. "alright." and then you snagged another fry from his meal, eyes flickering up to meet him. "thanks for being on my team, shua."
for you? he'd be anything you needed. teammate, cheerleader, manager... just say the word.
wen junhui
"you forgot them."
jun wasn't afraid to speak up for you. seungkwan had been getting a head count of the group since he'd been the unlucky volunteer to go back inside the vacation home to get drinks, and he paused immediately at jun's casual statement. his gaze flickered over to where you were sitting next to jun, visibly flustered, and everyone else had suddenly shut up.
"huh?"
jun waved it off casually. "you forgot to count them," he said, arm curling around you. "just don't forget to get their drink."
"it's okay," you squeezed his hip gently. "i could have gotten my own drink--"
"seungkwan lost the game, so it's his job," jeonghan called out from his spot on the other side of the fire. he was always so mindful of you and how you got timid when around the full group. "don't be sorry about it."
"seungkwan should be sorry," chan said without missing a beat. "he's the one that forgot them."
mingyu caught seungkwan by the back of his shirt before he could step towards chan, instead pulling him back into his arms with a lighthearted laugh. "i'll help you," he said. "come on. let's get everyone their drinks."
you watched the two wander off, fingers already curling around the edge of jun's shirt. all you had to do was give it the slightest tug to earn his attention. "you didn't have to do that," you said softly.
his brows raised a little. "hm?" he looked toward where the pair had left. "did you want to get your own drink?"
"no, i..." you pursed your lips. how did you say 'i'm used to being forgotten' without it sounding bad? you were typically the quieter one in a group. if you weren't with your close friends, then people seemed to overlook you by accident--just as seungkwan had done. "it's normal for me, that's all."
"it's his job, though," jun said, as casual as he could be about it. "if you wanted to get your own drink, that's fine--but it shouldn't be because he miscounted."
if it wouldn't net him a little teasing, you would kiss him here. even a chaste kiss on the cheek earned teasing with all his friends present. so you just snuggled in, knee pressing against his, and gave him a quick squeeze around the middle. it was subtle enough no one would comment on it.
"thank you, jun," you said softly. "i..." get nervous with large groups. but he already knew that.
even if it earned him a little teasing, he leaned in to press a kiss into your hair. "i've got you," he promised. "don't worry. i'll always remember you."
kwon soonyoung
all of this fucking sucked and there was no place you wanted to be more than home. but you were always a bit of a pushover, always the person who said no to going out, to going to clubs, to doing things in highly busy places when you could barely move... and yet here you were, completely miserable. why did your friends even invite you to places like this now? you'd compromised with them in the past (clubs that were a little less packed than the one you were in, or going to karaoke to drink and sing so they could get loud if they wanted), but it felt like those days were slipping away now. you hugged yourself tight, trying to make yourself smaller as you kept to a side table while they danced their hearts out with strangers. it was too loud and too cramped, and your drinks tasted disgusting, and you'd swallowed your struggles for the past few hours. when was the last time your friends did something you wanted to do...?
then your phone lit up. tap tap?
you responded in kind: tap tap.
be there in ten!
soonyoung had established this system with you forever ago. he'd gone off talking about his experience in martial arts and that tapping out was basically the way to get out of it all. you'd expressed a little confusion over the subject: wasn't the point of martial arts to, you know, to fight? but he'd played with your fingers idly, humming to himself as he considered the way to explain it simplest.
"everyone has different limits," was what he had settled on, looking up to meet your eyes that day. "so if you meet your limit... just text that to me and we can leave. no one has to know what it means."
you gathered your things as silently as you could, just to ensure you still had your belongings at this point. you danced with your friends earlier, only to tap out of that when you wanted another drink. someone had said something raunchy to you, and been kind-of a dick when you tried to innocently mention you had a boyfriend (then why are you even here?). thus you sentenced yourself to the sidelines. out of sight, out of mind, out of trouble.
soonyoung didn't seem to care that he was in his sweats. no doubt he sweet-talked the bouncer into letting him in to find you quickly and leave, because he'd already taken your hand the moment he made his way to you. he guided you out of the place, waved to the guy, and made off with your hand in his.
"i don't like these friends," he said outright once you were far away enough and your hearing was starting to return. your head still felt slightly fuzzy from it all. "why do you let them treat you like this?"
you'd been friends with this group since college. they went out clubbing then, too, but they had never pressured you to go with them then--and they still made an effort to do fun things they liked that you also liked. when did that start changing? you counted back the time. longer than six months ago? a year? what changed--
you looked at soonyoung. oh. that's what changed. soonyoung came into your life and gave you a safe place to be yourself. and around then, that's when your friends had begun making comments about how you were always so 'safe' and too timid for things. pushing boundaries was good, right?
soonyoung took your hands in his. "you shouldn't let them force you into this so often," he said, voice gentle. "i know it's hard for you to say no, but... you look miserable still."
you shook your head. not tonight. please not tonight. and soonyoung nodded in kind, squeezing your hands.
"my housemates are home watching movies," he said. "we can make more popcorn! i washed your spare clothes so you can get all comfy," he beamed at you. "but if you don't want to hang out with them, we can watch something in my room instead. is that better?"
you liked soonyoung's housemates. you shook your head. "can i sit between you and jun?"
he giggled, kissing you gently. "as long as you don't mind him cuddling with you, too."
with soonyoung around... you were more okay with anything.
jeon wonwoo
you had never believed in soulmates before, but if you had to pick one... you were pretty sure wonwoo was it. the two of you had met through a mutual friend (one kim mingyu, who was your loud, loud neighbor at one point--but also the guy who brought over food when you were sick and took care of you when you had no one else to help you), who had turned to you and said he knew someone perfect for you. the two of you met in a bookstore for your date, and the rest was history. wonwoo put you at ease faster than anyone had ever done before, and you were sure that it was because the two of you were alike.
case in point: it was saturday night, and wonwoo was spending it with you. "with" being used loosely: he wasn't talking to you, mostly muttering under his breath to himself, nor were you doing something together. he was curled up on the couch, playing a video game by himself, while you were happily doing a jigsaw puzzle today. saturday was cozy days in this apartment. fridays were when the two of you ventured out. sometimes you went out for dinner, or went to the movies, or went to a mall just to explore for hours. sometimes you were joined by friends, other times it was just the two of you. but that's how things were with you and wonwoo: the weekdays after work could be spend doing whatever the two of you wanted to do. the weekends were for relaxing at home, save for the occasional party (usually birthdays, but you made your fair share of appearances outside of those) the two of you made plans around.
being with wonwoo was easy. his introverted nature seemed to go hand in hand with your shyness. he was okay with speaking for you when you were particularly nervous with people, and he was equally fine holding your hand when you felt okay enough to speak up. he never judged you. being with wonwoo was safe. the most he ever did were the gentle chuckles that sounded from him when he was admiring you, finding tiny bits of your behavior particularly endearing.
"wonwoo?" you called out. he pulled off one set of his headphones, peering back at you for you to continue. "i love you."
his gaze softened. "i love you, too." he didn't turn away yet, though. "are you thinking about something?"
he always seemed to read you easily (you were his favorite book, in his humble opinion). you averted your gaze, already feeling the heat flood into your cheeks. being with wonwoo was easy, yes, but your shyness always seemed to take hold when it came to your feelings past those three words. "i just..." you fiddled with your fingers. "i was thinking about you. and... you're always really kind to me, you know? i don't have to, y'know, worry about messing up with you. i can... i can just be me, timidness and all."
wonwoo just seemed to admire you now, the softest smile on his face. "right... because you accept me as i am. i like this," he gestured a little to the room in general. "we don't have to go out all the time and do things. it's like..." he trailed off for a moment. "you're going to make fun of me."
you waved a hand, "no, no, just say it. i won't, i promise."
"we're cats." he paused when he heard you snort a little in response, but continued. "you've seen them before. some cats just laze around each other, and that's enough because they're spending that time together. we don't have to be doing the same thing... but just knowing we can spend this time together shows me that we love each other." he paused again, waving a hand, "not that i don't love doing things with you! it's just nice to know that we fit together."
"like a puzzle," you said absentmindedly. it earned a soft chuckle from wonwoo in kind.
"yes." he set aside his controller, making his way to you. "like a puzzle." he pulled out the chair across from you. he'd reached out, picking up a piece. "may i?"
"you may," you giggled, watching him carefully put it into place. "wonwoo?" you reached forward, brushing his hair from his eyes. "you're my favorite puzzle piece."
he chuckled warmly, cupping your cheek for a moment. "you're mine, too."
lee jihoon
the relationship you had with jihoon was maybe one of the slower ones anyone had seen. it wasn't for lack of attraction at all--anyone who spoke to you or jihoon knew that the two of you had fallen for each other. but for the longest time, both of you grew flustered when it came to skinship in public. the most either of you could handle was holding hands through busy crowds. the moment one of his friends noticed and called attention to it? you separated. it was why soonyoung, seungcheol, and vernon became jihoon's defense squad: if someone noticed that jihoon was holding your hand or arm or anything... one of the three were there to keep them from commenting on it.
and their jobs were harder now that jihoon had brought you on a trip with them all. he wanted you there, you needed a break from work after saving so much vacation time, and having a group of friends present made things a tad easier and also harder. easier because you didn't have to worry about things being awkward with you and jihoon, and harder because holy fuck, jihoon had a lot of friends. you'd ended up attached to vernon out of all of them. something about the guy's laid back nature put you the most at ease (wonwoo was right next on that list, though).
"hey, um..." you had tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, always so careful of other people's boundaries. "i know what you're doing."
jihoon had looked up from his phone, eyes flickering from you to vernon. "huh?" he paused, voice soft, "has he been bothering you--"
"no! nonono--" you waved a hand. "no. um. jihoon. you brought it up last night."
vernon looked between the two of you. "what?"
"you tell the others to knock it off anytime they see us touch at all," jihoon said outright. he was good at that when you were starting to shy away from things. "it's not a big deal. we're adults."
truth be told, it was usually mingyu who brought it up. but the others gave their fair share of loving teasing toward jihoon when they noticed the way he held tightly onto your hand at times, or the loving way he gazed at you. they always took glee in watching his face turn redder and redder. but you... you had always been a different case. jihoon could handle the teasing: he wouldn't stand it for you, even if he knew it was coming as a symbol of their acceptance toward you. you needed to say if it was alright first, not them.
"i just..." you were getting flustered over it. "i appreciate it. i like you guys a lot, but it gets kinda embarrassing when someone like jeonghan teases us like we're teenagers on a first date."
"they're shy," jihoon ran his thumb along the back of your hand. "not a kid."
vernon looked between the two of you, and something clicked. there was this understanding between the two of you that no one else had quite understood yet. all of them knew how jihoon was when it came to skinship: he didn't want to be treated like a child. and you, with your shyness, could be seen in a similar light. maybe that was why the two of you clicked so well. something about yourselves could be misconstrued and used to speak down to you, and both of you recognized that in each other and respected the other's wishes.
"yeah! yeah, i get it," he nodded. "i'm glad you guys have each other."
you averted your gaze, lips forming a subtle smile. "thanks," you said, voice quieter than before.
the two of you separated from vernon after a little more conversation, and he watched as jihoon flexed his fingers before clutching your hand in his own. and when no one was looking, he leaned in, whispering something into your ear before kissing the skin right in front of it.
the two of you were happy. and that was all that mattered to any of them.
lee seokmin
seokmin knew that, as well as you could mesh into social situations now, there was one thing that made you more nervous than anything. and that was when pictures were being taken.
he had his fair share of candids of you saved in his phone for his eyes only (or, well, his eyes and anyone who caught a glance at his home screen--his lockscreen would always be a picture of the two of you). pictures with or taken by seokmin were in this different realm of 'safe,' according to you. hell, pictures taken by you were safe, too. but he'd seen the way you tried to duck out of pictures constantly, always uncomfortable when they came up in mandatory situations.
so when he saw the wedding photographer's assistant making his rounds to grab pictures of the guests during the reception... his hand tightened a little around yours. he leaned in, lips grazing your ear for a moment, "just stay close to me and i'll block what i can, if you want."
you had been confused at first, only to spot the guy a moment later. you glanced down at yourself, brows drawing together. being a distant face in the wedding video during the ceremony had already been a little nerve-wracking, but photos of you... you looked at seokmin, a deer in the headlights. "i..."
you told him once that you didn't like pictures of yourself because you felt out of place in them. it all came from a lack of confidence that you managed to find when you were in control, or when you were seeing yourself through seokmin's lens. he clutched your hand tight, guiding you away from where you'd been sitting together, watching others dance.
"seokmin, wait," you tugged him to a stop as he guided you toward a side door. "you don't have to. i can go by myself--"
he shook his head. "he got pictures of me when i was dancing with minghao earlier," he said. "we can go outside for a minute, okay? you can't avoid all pictures tonight, but..."
you already knew that: hence why you were avoiding these. you were already tired, clothing a little less neat compared to this morning, and all you could think about was how thankful you were for seokmin. you squeezed his hand. "okay," you said softly. "then... lead the way."
(and if mingyu snapped a picture from a window of the two of you walking outside... then you were okay with it. just this once.)
kim mingyu
if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was that mingyu talked about you constantly. you weren't exactly the most outgoing person, always a little too nervous when it came to people you didn't know... and with a silly, loving boyfriend who also happens to be incredibly handsome, some people were all too eager to flirt wih him. as much as it made you a little insecure (and a lot more jealous, to be honest), you trusted mingyu wholeheartedly. mainly because you'd seen the way he reacted when people started flirting.
"i'm married," was his go-to now. neither of you were married (mingyu said he was fine marrying you as much as he was fine not doing it: he was committed to you, period, and didn't need papers to say that if you didn't want them), but the rings you wore were wedding band-adjacent. you had wanted a pair that looked simpler because your work could dirty your hands sometimes (thus you wanted something easy to clean), and mingyu liked the sleek look of these compared to the others.
sometimes you swore he took a little too much joy out of flashing his "wedding band" at people. he told you once that it was because people always backtrack so hard, it's a little amusing.
except when you were standing right next to him. that was when mingyu pulled you into his arms, giggling like a dummy (your dummy, always) as he showed off his ring. "we're married, actually," he would say. "aren't they cute?" he giggled. "they're still so shy after all this time..."
the person had wandered off, face burning with embarrassment, but seungcheol rolled his eyes from where he was boxing up your chocolates. "for how long?"
mingyu smiled, arms still securely around you. "ah... does the time really matter?" he swayed a little, dragging you along with the motion. "we're together for life. that's all that matters now--"
"you suck at lying." seungcheol smiled a little when that earned a snort from you.
mingyu just hugged you tighter. "someone has to do it!" he nuzzled your head. "and i like doing it. did you see their face when i said we were married? it's cute."
seungcheol rolled his eyes. "so i've heard."
"are you saying they aren't cute?" mingyu's voice became more serious now. would he be pouting if you turned to look at his face? you weren't sure, but with mingyu... you felt like it might be a safe bet. "they're right here. don't be mean to them."
"if i called them cute, then i'd never hear the end of it from you."
something about the way they continued to bicker like brothers finally earned a laugh from you, hands holding securely onto mingyu's arms. it stopped him there, and he immediately dove around you to kiss your cheek.
"see?" mingyu said. "they're cute. shyness and all."
xu minghao
"cute."
you looked up from your book, curled up on one end of your couch. minghao was smiling at you, head propped up by his hand as he leaned against the back of the couch. you knew this smile too well now: something inside that cute head of his had stirred awake and decided now was the time to tease you. you'd seen stoic, serious minghao plenty of times, alongside the wittier, snarky version of your boyfriend you had fallen for after he made one snappy comment back at one of his friends... but playful, silly minghao would always be your favorite flavor of him. except for when 'silly, playful' meant complimenting you. minghao knew compliments were your weakness in life.
"hm?" you sounded, hoping that maybe you heard him wrong. "did you say something."
"you heard me." that same smile greeted you now. "you're cute."
shit. shit. this was already a losing battle as you shrink down against the couch, the hood of your hoodie being dragged up. "hao... don't."
"hm?" he reached out, pushing your book out of the way--just enough that he could see your face. "don't what? tell the truth? you know i think you're cute, why shouldn't i say it?"
"it's embarrassing." you looked away.
"we're the only ones here, my love." your heart rate spiked for a moment: not the 'my love'. he knew what those words did to you. your ears were burning now, and you continued to hide yourself in your hoodie.
"still..." you already knew he had won this, whatever it was. you shoved your bookmark into your book, setting it aside as you continued to hide, tugging at the drawstring from your hood to close it around you. your voice grew higher as you finally confessed, "you're cuter."
"we're not talking about me right now," he had begun to move in. "you're just proving me right, you know. you're cute." he nudged your knees aside as he propped himself up over you.
this man was going to be the death of you.
he tugged the hood away from your face, string coming loose with ease. "see?" he poked the tip of your nose. "cute. it's a fact."
all too easily, you gave in when he wrapped his arms around you, tugging you so that you could be closer to you. he folded himself around you, burying his face in your neck as he breathed out a happy sigh.
"is something up?" you asked quietly. "i mean--i don't, up, i don't mind the sappy stuff. just..."
"i'm fine," he pecked your neck, nose grazing against the underside of your jaw. "just needed to love you louder today." he paused, raising his gaze to meet yours as he leaned around you. "is that okay?"
with a sigh, you settled into his arms. "yeah," you mumbled. "always okay. thank you for asking."
boo seungkwan
this was mortifying. what if you died right here? would that be better than witnessing this? chan had an arm around you while vernon was trying to pull seungkwan back. you just wanted one nice night with your boyfriend and his friends, and now seungkwan was very loudly arguing with someone who had said something not-so-nice about you relying on him so much. you were fine when it was just the four of you, but seungkwan knew you. he knew you struggled with being heard: hence why he reiterated your request on your behalf.
"they're my partner and i'm not going to let you speak about them like that!" he balled his fists. "just because they won't complain doesn't mean you can insult them to their face!"
"seungkwan," vernon pulled his arm harder. "dude. we're gonna get kicked out."
"fine!" he said, looking back at vernon. "i don't care! he was rude to them and made fun of them--they don't get to insult anyone i love like that!"
"seungkwan," you called out, finally getting his attention. you shook your head. "it's okay. let's just go."
he stole one last glance at the asshole he'd been yelling at, before taking a breath. seungkwan pulled away from vernon, making his way over to you as he took your hand. the four of you left, heading back outside as seungkwan immediately rounded to face you once you were far enough away from the place. he waved for the other two to go on--he just needed to speak to you alone. seungkwan took your hands, squeezing them gently.
"are you okay? did i ruin our night?" he frowned, pausing as he tugged at your sleeve to fix it back into place. "i would have let it go if he didn't make fun of you."
"it's okay," you said. "i'm sorry you always have to do this for me."
he blinked. "hm?" he looked back. "that place was busy. vernon didn't hear you, so i made sure your request got across." he paused, realization hitting him. "not that it matters now..."
"you guys can go back without me," you said, pulling your hands free. "i'm gonna go home."
"but--" he stepped forward. "you don't have to. we can go somewhere else." he paused for a moment. "i'm sorry i started yelling at him. i..." he took a deep breath. "i love you, and i don't care that you get shy or nervous or whatever you want to call it. i'm happy to talk for both of us if that's what you need me to do." he paused. "do you really want to go home?"
you nodded. "a little."
"then i'll go with you," he took your hand. "we'll come back out another night."
you squeezed his hand. "seungkwan?" you interlaced your fingers with his. "thanks for having my back."
"thank you for having mine," he pecked your cheek. "i'll always be here."
chwe vernon
the moment you turned the corner, vernon immediately straightened up, all signs of 'illness' seeming to disappear entirely. it made you slow to a stop, hand leaving his as you stare at him. was... was that why he was so insistent on not taking a cab home? he'd said the night air might help if you walked a little, but...
"alright. where to?" he turned, phone already in hand. "there's that dessert place you like. wait, did you eat? we could grab something else instead--"
"i thought you were sick." you sounded dumbfounded, and vernon blinked.
"you wanted to get out of there." a true fact, but you hadn't said it to vernon yet. "oh, dude. you get this look on your face." he made his way over to you. "like... you looked miserable. so i figured i'd take one for the team and pretend i'm sick so you wouldn't have to come up with an excuse again."
your cats could only get sick so many times without people wondering if something was wrong with them, after all.
you frowned. "you didn't have to do that."
"i kinda did." he took your hands. "like... i saw the look on your face. the 'please stop asking me about work, and my relationship, and my life, i'm going to pass out' face. remember that work thing you took me to? you did that face there, too."
maybe you loved this man more than anything.
"so... where do you wanna go? we could go back to my place. i've got popcorn, we could steal seungcheol's netflix account again, watch something dumb."
it earned a giggle from you. "he knows, right?"
"you haven't seen the new profile he made last week." he pulled you back with him, letting you follow his steps, "named it freeloaders. we're not the only ones using it, y'know."
you giggled again. between vernon, mingyu, and wonwoo... you weren't surprised seungcheol knew the netflix account was getting used by more than just him. they shared accounts, after all. he was using vernon's disney plus account often enough, mainly to get to hulu.
"just say the word if you ever want me to make up something, by the way," he squeezed your hand. "i know you get bad with people sometimes. let me handle it, alright?"
at least you had vernon in your life to make it all easer.
lee chan
chan chuckled. "it's okay," he said as he felt you bury your face in his neck. "i don't think he'll think anything of it."
chan was beyond used to seeing you flustered over the silliest little things. while he replayed his own slip-ups later on, you wore your emotions plain on your face after finishing a phone call with your close friend (and the guy who introduced you to chan), seungcheol. you'd slipped up and said an innocent 'love you!' to him, something chan always saw coming considering you'd long-since confessed that he felt like family to you. he saw the regret on your face for saying it so casually to a friend when it took you forever to say it to chan, and now he was fighting back the urge to laugh as you whined.
"he's never gonna let me live it down."
chan patted your back gently, chuckling a little now. seungcheol definitely wouldn't let it go--at least not to chan. "you're close friends! friends can say they love each other."
"i know, but..." you squeezed your eyes shut. "it's embarrassing. he didn't even say anything back and--and you know how cheol is."
that he did. chan heard your phone chime, and reached for it to steal a quick look... only to see seungcheol had texted you back: CALL ME BACK >:(
"baby?" he held up your phone, waving it in front of your face. "he's waiting."
"nooooooo," you whined again. "he's gonna make fun of me."
your phone began to ring. chan didn't hesitate to answer it, putting seungcheol on speaker. "they're dying, cheol."
"they didn't let me say it back!"
you buried your face further into chan's neck. of course seungcheol took it in stride--and of course his real problem was that you didn't give him the chance to say it back. chan let out a snort, hand curling around the back of your head as he gave it a quick pat.
"you're killing them still. you know how they get with affection."
you knew seungcheol was rolling his eyes with that annoyed sigh he let out. "they're like family. i wasn't going to be mad until they hung up on me before i could say it."
the affection truly was killing you. chan had seen you bury your face in his neck before, always too embarrassed to just accept the sweet words of anyone--especially himself. he called you one night to drunkenly ramble about his affections for you, and immediately apologized when you broke your favorite mug while you were mentally malfunctioning. even now, he felt the way you grabbed at his shirt, face burning hot with embarrassment. this was the reason why he could never arrange a surprise party for you: you might pass out if so many people broadcast their love for you at once.
"so?" seungcheol said, and you could hear someone laughing in the background. mingyu for sure, and someone else. "ignore them."
"love you, cheol," you mumbled. "sorry i hung up earlier."
your apology was met with a warm chuckle. "it's okay. let me know when you're coming over for dinner again," he said, and then paused for a second, "bring your boyfriend, too."
chan gasped in mock offense, as though he hadn't been sitting there the entire time. he hung up the call, and immediately wrapped his arms around you. "you love me more, right?" he teased, just to see that cute pout on your face. he'll kiss it soon, too.
you averted your gaze, face burning hot now. first cheol, now chan? "you know i do."
"say it." he poked your side, just to watch you squirm. "or else."
you could feel the way his fingers were starting to tickle your sides. "chan!"
all too easily, he'd made you forget about your nervous blunder as he dove forward to kiss you amidst your giggles. "say it!"
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taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny
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nereidprinc3ss · 7 months
Text
rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 
“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  
“How long have you been asleep?” 
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
“10:20.” 
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 
He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 
“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 
“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 
“What? No Jane Austen?” 
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 
“You are utterly ridiculous.” 
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 
“Just get the book, Spencer.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 
“Ready to get out?” 
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 
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daisynik7 · 8 months
Text
cw: established relationship, explicit sexual content, smut - cunnilingus
Author's Note: Barely proofread, completely horny. Enjoy. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
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When Nanami comes out of the bedroom for breakfast, he notices you’re already set up at your work desk, expression serious as you face the monitor. 
“You have a meeting right now?” he asks, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. 
You relax a bit from his loving smooch. “Yeah. I don’t even need to be in this. My boss just said to hop on and listen in. Said it’s a learning opportunity.” You make air quotations with your fingers at those last two words, rolling your eyes. 
He hums, massaging your shoulders, which are stiff and tense with stress. “I’m sorry.” His thumbs work out a knot; he always knows how to put you at ease at times like this. 
You lean back, tipping your chin up to catch his gaze, smiling. “Thank you, honey. I’m just…annoyed.” Glancing back at the screen, you sit up straight, muttering, “Oh no, it’s starting.” With a click of your mouse, you’re in. A few of the attendees are already chatting, so you keep yourself on mute, not bothering to greet them. 
Instead of heading into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, Nanami remains behind you, bowing down to whisper, “Do you want a distraction?” His mouth grazes your ear, his hands gliding up and down your arms. 
Although you’re on mute, you mouth a silent, “What?” to him.
His voice gets lower, sultry. “I’m hungry. And I’m craving my favorite treat right now.” He nuzzles his nose to yours, flashing that lazy smile of his you love so much. “I’ll be quick.” Too much. 
“Kento, are you serious?” The rational part of you knows this is crazy, especially while you’re actively attending a meeting. However, the horny part of you, which seems to supersede everything else, wants your husband’s distraction so badly. The temptation to do something you shouldn’t be doing is too alluring to resist. And besides, you’re virtually non-existent in the conversation happening in front of you. Might as well do something else productive.
He nods, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, just enough to tease a moan out of you. “Baby,” you whine. “We shouldn’t.”
And the two of you know what that really means.
Soon, he’s under the desk, sliding your pajamas bottoms off one leg at a time while you pretend to pay attention to whatever nonsense your coworkers are discussing. Your panties are already wet and Nanami takes his time peeling them off you, biting his lip at the way it glistens with your arousal. 
He wasn’t lying when he said he was hungry. In fact, he’s starving. He proves that with how voraciously he eats you out, your legs open wide for him to spread his tongue all over you. His grip is firm on your knees, keeping you split apart, licking and sucking on your clit, coaxing every drop of cum out of you. You can go the entire meeting with his face buried in your wet cunt, his drool mixing in with your slick. 
Suddenly, and to your absolute horror, your name gets called by your manager. “Any questions?”
You try to shove Nanami away, but he’s relentless, latching onto you tighter, sucking on your clit harder, louder. You squeeze his cheeks tightly with your thighs, practically smothering him, but it doesn’t do anything except make him hum, the vibrations only adding to the divine sensation. 
Before this long pause gets any more awkward, you swallow all the saliva pooling in your mouth and unmute yourself. “I’m good, thanks!” you blurt out, muting yourself once more as you let out a drawn-out moan, coming for the fifth time on your husband’s tongue.
The meeting is dismissed shortly after. You shut your laptop closed, scolding your husband, who’s now kissing the plush of your thighs, chin and nose shiny with your cum, a wickedly charming smile on his lips. “Thought you said you wouldn’t have to say anything,” he teases, trying to feign innocence. 
You run your fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands gently. “Thought you said you’d make it quick.”
He comes up from beneath the table, meeting your face with his. “You know nothing is ever quick with me, sweetheart.” Then, he kisses you, pulling you close to him, cock stiff against you, leading you into the bedroom.  
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pressureplus · 14 days
Note
Not sure if you have done it or if anyone have already requested it.. but I do like to see a headcanons (NSFW?) on the ovipositor of Sebastian. Like if reader finally agrees to let him pregnant them with his eggs. Kinda stuff like how would it feel like during/after breeding? does it will hurt? How long long does it take? How those eggs/babies develop? And how does the giving birth would be and feel like? Anything like that.
Btw, I love your headcanons and oneshots! <3
So glad you asked! I've been dealing with pain lately so Ive needed consistent care. As per usual we are writing, this one just happened to be finished first. Also, thank you for the compliment <3
♡Sebastian Solace Ovipositor Headcannons♡
Warnings: Describing this Non-Erotically, Implied Sex, Oviposition/Ovipositor, AFAB and AMAB Cannons (God Im Sorry), Pregnancy/Birth Vaguely Mentioned, M!Preg Mentioned
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜
Starting off strong, the moment you agree to have that mans babies he is all over you
Excited, yes, and at the mention of his Ovipositor being put to use he’ll be a little shy but happy to oblige! How can he not be? The idea of having a family almost makes him feel…normal. Happy and normal.
As his tendril is always sheathed, it stays very slick, which makes insertion easier. Despite his absurdly large length (he is well over twice your size) he doesn't need to be all the way inside your body to use said Ovipositor
During the process of actually putting those eggs in your body, it feels…odd. The best way I can describe this is like swallowing those Boba Pearls in drinks? But like…obviously not with your mouth
Doesn't hurt! The eggs arent too large, about an inch in length and diameter, but still not painful! You’d think they would be, right?
This is due to both the slightly muscle relaxant features of said slick, and the flexible nature of his eggs
Despite their size they can easily compress to be smaller if pressure is applied…too much pressure will pop them and make them no longer viable but yes they can get a bit smaller
They're like little jelly balls with a turquoise color
After the fact, you'll really just feel oddly full for the next day or two. These things are decently sticky and almost parasitic in nature so those that are going to continue to develop will be burying themselves into your body
Not a painful process either, by the way
Those that don't end up attaching to anything are not particularly viable as they can't take any of your DNA to make anything. So those really just have to be removed. This can be done decently easily with some pressure applied to your stomach and a bit of pushing
Produces 6-12 eggs on average, but may produce more or less, so you never really know how many actually stuck
The way these eggs develop is rather unnatural to say the least.
If you're AFAB then they'll attempt to fill your uterus much like a normal baby would. They also take as much ‘code’ from your DNA as possible, feeding off your blood for minerals similar to how Anglerfish pairs function
If you're AMAB things get a bit..sticky for you. They'll hollow out their own space inside you, kind of like a very small faux womb. This is NOT painful, but does leave a sort of dull ache like you've just worked out for a while. This small little wound will close behind the eggs as well so they won't be disturbed. They feed off you the same way as they do for those who are AFAB
This pregnancy can last anywhere from 6-9 months depending on how large the batch of eggs is. They do technically ‘share’ their meals so they'll all be ready to hatch at the same time. Think of it like an evolutionary trait for a better chance at survival.
Doesn't entirely feel like pregnancy, you'll feel weaker, bloaty, and maybe a bit sick mostly due to lower mineral/vitamin counts. But as long as you take some kind of supplements or eat healthy you'll be fine
You don't get particularly round or anything either, just a small bump that could easily be passed off as weight gain
On the Plus side for the AFABS, your body does not continue to have its menstrual cycle during these months. They release their own chemicals into your body/bloodstream for a better latch and less chances to be ‘rejected’
As for having these babies? There's conractions/cramping for sure and a bit of blood from where those eggs detach. I wouldn't call them particularly bad contractions, as they're slower and a lot less painful than normal child birth
The body doesn't have to prep as much since they're not normal sized human babies.
If you're AFAB, they'll come out the natural way. If you're AMAB, you're going to need surgery
Surgery is of course an option for both if preferred.
They pop their eggs and are ready to go the second they break, now for the most part the body can just absorb the nutrients in these empty ‘shells’ but they can also be removed. It won't cause additional harm either way
These babies aren't very big when they're taken out
In fact, they're all about palms sized. They're warm to the touch, covered in a bit of blood and whatever liquid is inside those eggs, so they're a bit sticky. But just fine to wipe clean
They’ll be oddly…blue and pale for the first while as they learn to breathe oxygen with their very small lungs. Don't worry, they'll figure it out. They look almost like normal babies aside from this, well, not including those that look more like Sebastian
They’ll develop faster than normal babies as well. Some may even be born with sharp teeth, others will get their set within the first two months.
They're already up and ready to go in about a year or less, as if they're made for survival like wild animals. However this will come at a cost. Your sanity mostly when your 1 year old is chewing through the casings of wires and chair legs.
By the time they're around 5-6 they'll be just a little smaller than the size of a normal human child.
As teenagers getting their growth spurts? Many of your children may end up BIGGER than average humans!
Overall your children will be different, as was the process of having them, but they're still perfectly healthy
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