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screampied · 2 months

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‘ LOVE ME, LOVE ME [NOT] ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. on your life, you swore you hated him. that stupid smirk that curled against his lips, you loathed toji fushiguro. but how does a single kiss change that? is this hatred you feel—or is it romantic denial?

wc. 8.4k

warnings. fem! reader, arranged marriage au, slow burn (?), sharing one bed, unrequited love, degradation, praise, edging, size difference, fingering, semi public, implied multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, impact play.

“ya just gonna stand there or,” toji raises a brow, and you gave him the biggest glare imaginable. it was late at night, about a quarter past eleven and you were exhausted.

you had a long day, and the last thing you’d wanna come back home to was a guy on your bed. toji was sprawled all out, stretched all over your side of the bed, and he gives you a teasing grin. “so y’er the brat i’m supposed to marry.”

“you’re not sleeping here.” you grouse, making an attempt to shove him but it gets literally nowhere. toji stays put, glancing up at you and his facial expression was purely amused.

he hums. “oh? says who?”

“says me. now move before i—,” you chastise, crawling into the bed to move him before with quick reflexes, he gets ahold of you — and stupidly, you fall right into his chest, a sudden oof sound departing from your lips before he snickers.

“now we’re both scared, princess,” toji rolls his eyes, and you’re all propped up against his chest. he was so warm, and oh how he smelled so good..

toji’s got the biggest smirk on his lips as you’re awkwardly laid on his lap. the both of you share an intense gaze that felt like forever - and once he finally breaks the silence, he mutters, “quite a brat but i gotta admit, y’er real pretty up close.”

you shift your eyes away, and you let off a soft gasp once a hand of his brushes against your waist. toji continued to speak, and his tone was a bit more pitchy and stern. “glare all ya want dollface, ‘m not moving.”

“fucking bastard..” you grumbled underneath your breath, crawling off from his lap before he pulled you back into him.

“who’s gonna marry this bastard though,” and then he clicks his tongue, adding a snarky, “uh huh. exactly. but at least come up with better insults than that,” and it’s a long awkward pause. toji finally looks up at you again, his tantalizing grin fading before darkened irises of his lock onto yours.

it was intimate.

the eye contact was, strangely sensual… you wanted to know more about this man.

you’ve heard countless stories, especially the ones where he was known for being notorious but you’ve always pondered. out of any random guy, you got paired up to be betrothed to the infamous toji fushiguro.

he ends the silence with … a deep kiss.

everything moved at such a speed, you didn’t even realize you were kissing him until you felt his tongue run down yours. he had such a flavor, your eyes briefly closed, returning the gesture and he cups yours face. a low grunt could be heard from him, and despite it being seconds…toji was definitely addicted to your sweetened taste.

it took you a long moment before you pull away, strands of spit departing and you stutter out a timid, “w-what was that for?”

“why’d you kiss back?” he eyes you down, and he brings a thumb up to your lips, swiping against it and it was unintentionally sexy—toji stares down at your lips, as if he wanted to kiss you again, but his eyes then flicker back up towards you. “if we’re gonna be tied together, you should know how to kiss,” only to then he replies with a sassy, “…you could use some work though.”

“…shut up,” you groused, a cute pout forming on your lips as you scoot away to shove a pillow at him. “whatever. i’m going to bed. we have stupid rehearsal tomorrow.”

toji runs a hand through his hair as he snickers, watching your frustrated obvious embarrassed state. you reach to turn off the lamp, getting comfortable underneath the fat silk covers.

“aren’t ya gonna ask for a goodnight kiss?”

“fuck you, toji.”

“heh. one day, girl.”

with furrowed eyebrows, you didn’t get what he meant, and once you did—you were glad it was pitch dark so he couldn’t see your visible abashed expression.

momentarily, the two of you ended up sleeping. you’re all the way on the other side of the bed, yet due to toji being a rough sleeper apparently, he finds himself getting close to you.

regardless of being crazy in bed whilst in a deep slumber, he surprisingly didn’t snore.

you found yourself tucked right in his strong arms. you felt safe—secure. leaning into his warmth, you suddenly feel a cold sweat wash over you.

beat after beat, your heart raced and what your mind processed. it felt so surreal.

you felt a mixture of both, hot…cold…. a plethora of feelings.

once your eyes shot open, your first reaction was to wake up toji. of course, you’d ignore your feelings and go back to sleep. but something deep inside you was telling you, you need him.

“wha—” he grumbles, his tone was hoarse due to him waking up abruptly, it was around probably three thirty in the morning. he was about to reply with a usual teasing remark before he spots you, hovering over him with tears stinging in your eyes. “hey. hey…what’s the uh… matter?”

his tone suddenly went tender, you stare at toji, observing his face with blurred eyes from the tears. your eyes met towards his relaxed face, his perfectly structured chin, even his slanted scar that ran across a part of his lip.

“i— it was…” you sniffle, but for some reason, the words got trapped into your throat. sealed, preventing you from muttering another word.

“shh…it’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeats, bringing you close towards his chest. you tried to relax within his grip, he’s so gentle and drags a hand down your back soothingly. “easy, girl. i’m…here.”

judging from the continuous pauses in toji’s tone, you could tell he didn’t know what to say — what to do, but he knew he had to at least hold you.

you felt insanely vulnerable, all to a man you’ve only known for maybe what…a few hours.

his voice, it was relaxing and soft, despite its roughness. the rhythm his hand had, stroking back and forth against your back, you let off a low sigh. his cologne wafts against your nose before you slowly look up at toji, and he’s already staring at you.

“…you good?” he mutters, an eyebrow slightly raising.

“y-yeah,” you mumble, a tiny pout glossing on your lips again. it was cute — he was about to comment on it, yet you watch him start to shift away. you wrap your arms around his waist, briefly doing a head shake. “stay still, toji.”

“ooh. first name basis now?” he hums, fully complying with your request. his thumb lightly grazes near your back before you feel his chest jerk a bit from a chortle. “but okay, we can stay like this princess.”

you felt your face get hot at the pet name, why—?

just him calling you ‘princess’ was enough to make you feel such intensity. he brushes a hand back and forth swiftly. it was tender, you let off a soft sigh, any signs of nervousness leaving you completely.

“…don’t call me that.” you grumbled, your eyes shifted up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“and yet y’er still talking,” he chastised, this time a pout forming on his lips, it was cute.

the way the scar that ran across the edge of his mouth tugged together solely from the movements of his facial expressions.

toji catches you staring at him before he breathes out, “i don’t even get a thank you,” he nudges you, an attempt to lighten the mood—to perhaps earn out a smile out of you, and that he did. “get some sleep though, brat. got me hugging you, tch.”

it was a drag. reality coming to you that not only had you have to marry this man, but you had to live with him also..

multiple days passed, the two of you practically pretended each other didn’t exist.

toji was almost always working . .

albeit, he’s never told you specifically what his occupation was.

you knew he was a feared man—for whatever strange reason, but you decided to not comment on it. perhaps that was a good thing.

sooner rather than later, your wedding date was approaching. everything felt like it was going at a rapid speed.

toji was, well . . . a private man to say the least. you tried to get to know him, but he was like an empty canvas. there was something he didn’t want to tell you.

ex-wife, ex-girlfriend..?

you couldn’t help but ponder. sure, he was an attractive man. quite very much easy on the eyes. such striking features, heavily intimidating. if only he didn’t have such a huge ego. he was practically insufferable to live with. the two of you were total opposites in terms of personality.

he’d often tease you every chance he got, poking fun at you for even the smallest things.

“…wow,” toji muttered, leaning back against his chair. the moment you stepped into the room in nothing but a pretty silk dress, his eyes roamed and roamed.

it was a pretty long a-line dress. it was perfectly sewn on, hugging your curves tightly, the sash that ran across your waist. toji for once was speechless, his eyes lingered towards your entire frame. your figure—it was forever gorgeous in his eyes. for a moment, you saw a sudden look in his irises, as if he’s been in this moment before.

he has. judging from his past, but you didn’t know that.

toji dismisses a sudden flashback before focusing his attention back towards you, standing up from his chair, uttering a, “c’mere. i wanna get a closer look.”

“was that a good wow or a bad wow?” you puff out, sliding your feet across the floor towards him. you swallow to yourself, can’t help but feel a certain butterfly stir up inside you.

toji’s eyes were on you the entire time. his eyes linger down your body and seeing how the way it fit perfectly before he mutters.

“it’s whatever you want it to be, princess.”

“why can’t you just reply like a normal person?” you furrow your eyebrows—visibly trying to hide your embarrassment.

toji snickers. “you look gorgeous,” and he looks as if he wants to touch you, but he halts, tugging on his tie before trying to maintain a neutral gaze. “is this the one?”

“yeah,” you mutter, and that’s when for a brief moment. the two of you just stand there. toji’s hands were buried in his pockets, and he’s got that annoying simper resting on his face.

this man.

it was as if his irises were a mystery — pools of complete mystery. you could never read him.

toji brings a hand towards your face, and he strokes your chin with the pad of his thumb. “you know,” he starts in a rough voice, feeling how claustrophobic it almost was . . the two of you cramped up in a dressing room like this, you tried to dismiss any dirty thoughts. “i keep noticing how bad you are at eye contact, princess. you have a habit of staring at my lips instead of my eyes.

“…shut up.” you mumble, practically leaning into his touch despite your stubbornness. he smiles, derisively raising a brow.

“if ya want another kiss from y’er husband, just say that.” toji murmurs, his strokes went towards your lips. he’s the one who looks at your lips this time, almost witnessing the whine that was about to leave your mouth.

it suddenly felt hot . . . scorching.

the gaze he had on you, such a meaningless yet seductive look. as if he was forevermore captivated by your beauty, and in this case he was.

“…toji,” was all you let out, a soft pout going against your glossed lips. he looked so handsome up close. darkened strands of hair that ran down his eyes briefly, it was ruffled.

you loathed feeling like this, that stare he gave you. it started to make you feel a certain type of way, between your legs.

“yeahh?” he slyly remarks, leaning up close. just inches apart, he was so close to kissing you. you smelled mint with a slight tang of alcohol run on his breath, he knew what he was doing. “needy girl. look at that pout, so cute.”

“kiss me, toji.” you breathe, not even intending to sound so whiny.

it killed you, seeing how desperate you were for another one of his kisses. you craved it though. the way whenever his lips would hit against yours, it felt you were the only person in the world. he knew that’d be the only way to shut you up.

“look at you using your words,” he hums, sliding his thumb against your bottom lip for a final time. toji then leans in, tilting your chin a bit and his lips gently press against yours.

your lashes fluttered, feeling a certain feeling stir up inside you. you couldn’t describe it . . . again, this man.

you made it known to yourself that you wouldn’t get like this for anyone. feel this …. weak. yet with toji, he had you wrapped around his finger.

it was that easy.

just from a kiss.

a stupid kiss.

toji grips your chin, and you move back until you’re pinned against the wall. the pure feeling of the cold mirror frame skimming against your back.

toji grunts in your mouth, his tongue colliding against yours throughout each second. his hands started to roam up your body, as if he was waiting to touch on you.

graze his fingers down every inch of your pretty physique. you moan, feeling a rough hand of his slowly lift your leg up.

the soft fabric of your dress ruffles against his thigh, and your leg ends up wrapping around him.

he chuckles, deepening the kiss, you felt the very edge of his scar tickle against you. “fuck, y’er something else,” he says between kisses, and he feels you tugging on his tie.

in the background played some catchy tune — a random popular song, you felt the warmth of toji’s body grind against you.

so incredibly good, the tips of your ears started to heat up. his hand trails lower and lower until your breath hitched, feeling the tips of his fingers dance against your skin.

“you do realize we’re in public, right sweetheart?” toji whispers, breaking his lips away to kiss near your neck. he smelled intoxicating, a perfect mixture of cologne—surprisingly not a cheap kind. it smelled worth a hefty value, and it made you gnaw on your lip. “are you-”

“you talk too much,” you chastise, grabbing onto his wrist. he snickers, watching you take a hold of his grip. you drag his hand between your legs, letting off a puff. “i just—i don’t care. i want you to touch me. you— you tease me all day, ‘n i- i just want—”

toji stares at you, you’re still making his hand go down until it’s right between your thighs. raising up your dress that wasn’t paid for, his fingers brush against your panties. “…oh,” he purrs, arched brows pressing together. “you’re kinky. but okay, if my pretty wife wants me to touch her, then i’ll touch her.”

“i’m…not your wife, idiot.” you pant.

“don’t worry, girl. you will be,” he mumbles, bringing his lips towards the side of your neck.

he sinks his teeth gently, nipping at the sensitive skin to hear you moan.

you were so close to him—the way his touch sent you into a complete frenzy. toji slides your panties to the side, and you let off a whine, feeling him feel the slickness that stuck against your folds. “aw. were you wet this entire time we were out?”

you felt your face heat up. oh, you were extremely embarrassed.

he had you like this, soaking wet. you couldn’t even explain why. this man had you like this… so feral.

to think you were gonna walk down the aisle with him pretty soon. at this particular point, you didn’t care about feelings. by now, you weren’t even sure of what you felt towards toji. you just knew that you wanted him to touch you.

“so impatient,” toji murmurs, making you lean back against the wall. he was such a tease, staring daggers, sexual daggers right at you.

toji stares as you tug on his pants, you don’t even know what came of you—it was as if your body craved him. “we just had one more store, princess. you couldn’t wait?”

“…toji,” you’d pout. pulling on the thin fabric of his tuxedo. he looked so handsome. you only started to imagine what he’d look like once the two of you officially got hitched. he raises his brows, leaning towards you before you gasp once he brushes a finger towards your exposed clit. “i- i can’t fucking wait anymore. please, just—”

“watch that mouth of yours,” toji sneers, and he cuts you off with a deep kiss.

you moan, feeling entirely hot once he slowly inserts a finger inside. “nasty girl. walkin’ around this wet,” he’d grumble, your arms went over his neck as you bit your lip. “easy. relax, thereeee we go. good girl,” and his praises went straight towards your cunt.

he had such a way with words, his fingers had quite a length to it not to mention. all throughout, you felt him prod against your walls and you whined for more. “i knew we’d get along.”

“s-shut up.”

“s-shut uppp,” he mocks your tone, a raspy snicker following. he grins at the cute scowl that went on your lips before you mom again. he reached so deep, and then he added another finger inside. toji watched as you glossed lips parted, you were heavily panting. “such a mess down here. just filthy.”

he was so gentle with his strokes—a simple bowling ball grip that made your maw practically drop. it felt so good, gingerly caressing your clit. your chest heaved and heaved, and you started to whimper against his ear.

he loved whenever you did that. the sweet pitches your voice would make, it was almost melodic.

“f-fuck,” you’d sigh, trying to focus on your breathing patterns. you had to remind yourself the two of you were in public.

in a secluded dressing room.

the circular motions he created made you practically squeeze your plushy thighs together. he was so good with his hands, it made your eyes start to roll back dramatically. “right there, t-toji.”

“squeeze around me so good—wonder how you’d be with me doin’ the real thing, princess.” and the way he’d do that thing, pitching his voice into a husky rasp. it made you feel a surge of tingles coarse all throughout your body. you were essentially hugging him, your unbought dress lazily pulled up. “tell me how’s it feel, talk to me.”

his words… it was so sensual, he goes right up against your ear as he spoke. licking against your earlobe before it turns into brief nibbling. he knew what he was doing, getting you all hot and bothered.

you swallowed thickly, and he has a perfect tempo. not to fast, not too slow. by this point, both of his fingers that was shoved into your pussy was covered in your sweetened slick.

“good, f-feels good,” you’d whine out, pant after pant. your breathing became erratic—mind swollen with nothing but filthy thoughts. just the sheer reality of being fingered like this, it made you a little wet. no, it made you incredibly wet.

toji’s stimulating your clit, his formation was forever euphoric.

it was like a drug, the way you wanted his fingers slid in and out. he purposely grew quiet so you could hear the sloppy squelches your cunt made in retaliation. “listen how she just… talks back, no fuckin’ manners just like you.”

your bottom lip quivered, his dirty talk…

each word going straight between your thighs. with your back arching, you felt yourself clamp around him, a big squeeze.

it was like with the tips of his fingers, he knew how to reach every crevice, everywhere inside your folds. “the way y’er voice always gets high once i get to this spot. such a sensitive baby.”

curling and curling, toji’s fingers was going in and out of you. by this point, you were completely drenched. he was using his entire wrist, you felt the cold hand of his watch skim against your skin in the process. “i-i’m getting close, toji fuckkk.”

“yeah. bet you are,” he nips at your neck, speeding up his fingers just a bit. you felt dizzy, forevermore trapped in your mind—chasing a powerful incoming orgasm. it was no denying, your legs were just trembling by this point. he knew the anatomy of your pussy perfectly, as if he was skilled in it professionally. “i want you to do somethin’ for me.”

“huh?” you whined, still propped up against the mirror. he’s still trapped with your arms wrapped around his neck, right between your legs just barely.

toji sneaks a kiss near the inner part of your neck before mumbling, “i want you to make a mess on me. can ya do that?”

as your eyelids droop, becoming lower and lower, you pathetically nod, whimpering out a sweet shaky, “okay, okay.”

toji felt the texture inside of you…easily stretching your walls a bit with just two slender fingers. his fingers was thick though, your mouth hung open with not even coherent words coming out. just cacophonies of, “toji,” and “f-fuckk,” with many others.

he kept a gaze on you the entire time, he wasn’t sure by this particular point what he felt towards you. the noises that escaped from your lips, he wanted to hear more of it, maybe even drag out a sweet scream from you.

“t-toji, ‘s gonna…” you slur out your words, sounding like you were running a marathon.

he maneuvers circles against your clit with two fingers, tickling against your opening and you let off a whimpering, “oh my god, oh my g-godddd.”

“…y’er so loud,” he rasps, leaning in to shut you up with a kiss. it was passionate—a tang of sloppiness to it. his tongue ran against yours, and you felt a coil within you abruptly snap.

once you orgasm, it was far more than you expected. because you felt even more soaked. you shivered, a muffled orgasm pouring into his lips before toji slows his fingers down.

pulling away, he’s watching with sly eyes of the stringy cobweb of saliva depart from both lips, he huffs. “girl, did you just squirt on me?”

your nerves, you whimpered once he slide a thumb against your pulsating nub, taking his fingers out to gawk at it. how you effortlessly coated his fingers with your slick. you didn’t reply, you’re in the midst of catching your breath before toji hums.

“yeah. you fuckin’ squirted on me,” he answers his own question, about to lean in for another kiss. yet that’s when the door knocks obnoxiously.

it’s an older lady, and she’s got quite the vexed voice. “excuse me sir, the store’s closed. can you two please—”

“yeah, yeah we’re coming,” toji rolls his eyes, and you’ve never been more embarrassed.

he peppers a kiss against your forehead before glancing down at your dress with a smirk. “you’ll be a doll and pay for that, right? it’s a little damaged but i'm sure you’ve got that covered, baby.”

cheap bastard.

it’d always be moments like this between you two. except, the both of you never went all the way. toji liked to take his time with you. he wanted to make you wait—it irked you.

he was a professional at getting on your nerves, making your eyes roll to the very depths of your skull.

it was like the more time you spent with him, the more you started to feel this … feeling.

you didn’t know what it was. you couldn’t describe it. all you knew was that it felt weird.

not so much in a weird way, more of a … natural way. you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt like this.

perhaps calling it love was foolish, then again you hated not being able to describe this feeling. whatever it was.

toji started to grow attached to you — whether he was too stubborn to realize it or not.

it would be small things, calling you while he was at work just to tease you, help you get things from the top shelves… feeling him against you, just fantasizing about that made you start to throb.

preparations for the wedding felt like it was taking centuries — everything had to be perfect.

eventually, you picked out a dress. it fit perfectly, and toji hasn’t seen it yet.

sooner than you knew it, it was the day of the wedding.

the arranged marriage.

truth be told, you still barely knew the gist of everything. it’s probably been about a good half month before the day eventually comes. the two of you ended up going separately, not together.

alas, you and toji end up running into each other near the entrance of the venue.

“toji,” you’d mumble, words being caught way back in your throat.

he was suited up, so handsome. slicked down with a tuxedo. with hands buried in his pockets, his head was slightly tilted down as he gifted you with the same gaze. “we aren’t supposed—we aren’t supposed to see each other before the ceremony,” and your words trail the more he trods towards you. “it gives us bad luck.”

“hey girl,” he murmurs in that familiar rasp. his naturally ruffled hair was slightly slicked back, a few strands poking through. “you look like my wife already,”

and you felt your heart race, hearing him say that, ‘my wife.’ it made your eyebrows slightly curl in puzzlement before he strokes your cheek. “i’ve been meaning to see you anyway. this wedding is gonna last us all day.”

you stare up at him, a tiny glimmer in your eye before breathing. “…well yeah, the after party and everything. why do you-”

“the more i stare at your dress, the more i wanna tear it off,” he uttered, his voice pitches a deep low. he swipes his thumb directly next to your chin. leaning into his touch, you returned the same eye contact, and he sighs. “i don’t want any other eyes seeing this but me.”

“so take it off then,” you mutter, watching the scar slanted against toji’s lips curl into a playful grin. “it’s about time, toji.”

with an eye roll, he grabs your wrist lightly, pulling you into one of the fitting rooms of the venue.

scattered everywhere was a bunch of preparations for the wedding. multiple dresses, cakes, and even presents. yet, the two of you could care less about that.

“we gotta work on that annoying ass attitude of yours,” he breathes, not wanting to waste a split second. toji lifts you up, moving you towards the table. you wrap your arms around him before gasping.

“don’t ruin my dress, toji. ‘n ‘i’m not gonna pay for it again.” you say against his ear, hearing him smack his lips in reprisal.

“yeah yeah. i won’t ruin it, baby,” he rolls his eyes, carefully reaching beneath your back.

he slowly unzips it, watching the fabric drag down your chest before you’re almost exposed. his eyes roamed, making you feel a sudden heat pulse between your legs. he had one of the most intimidating gazes ever known to man.

once toji helps you fully get out of your dress.

his eyes avert towards between your thighs, squeezed tightly shut. “…girl,” he rasps, making your legs part briefly before flickering his eyes right back towards you. “were you really gonna walk down the aisle with no panties?

“i— i forgot,” you huff out, running a few fingers through his hair. if you weren’t mistaken, you could hear a purr come from toji’s lips. the way you massaged his scalp with such ease, your touch was everlastingly gentle. “i was rushing earlier and-”

“nah, you didn’t forget. you did this for me, didn’t you princess?” he whispers, leaning in to plant a kiss near the inner part of your neck.

his lips were so soft.

with a loud clank towards the wooden floor, your heels fell to the ground with an abrupt thud. toji was so touchy, his rough textured hands wandered all over your body. such shivers coming out of you. “y-yes,” you’d drag out, desperately longing for him to just be inside you already.

you’ve fantasized about this particular moment in more ways than you could count…

likewise, you were far too embarrassed to flat out ask toji to please you.

except for the moment between the two of you at the mall, that was the closest you’ve ever gotten. as mentioned before, he liked making you wait. he figured the wedding day would be the best day to show you how to deal with a real husband.

in more ways than one… but specifically - the bedroom.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, it was impossible. you took the chance to gnaw on your lip, feeling him touch all over you. such rough hands, yet so tender. he starts off with kisses near your lips, chaste ones near the corner of your mouth, beneath your chin, your neck…

as he inched lower and lower, you intake a sharp breath, feeling a few strands of his hair tickle against your skin.

“pretty body all jus’ for me,” he’d murmur, an almost coo escaping from his lips. you’re propped up on the table before toji sprawls your legs apart. he leers at the way your legs, the fishnets that purely decorated it.

with his teeth, he starts to tear them off before you whine. “toji— i have to keep these.”

“y’er dress is long, baby. no one’s gonna be looking at my girl under here,” he replies, such a deep tone hovering underneath his wordings by defeault.

again, the way he addressed you as ‘his girl,’ it pathetically made you throb. a weird feeling throbbed inside of your heart ; the same feeling you always failed to describe.

to think you weren’t so fond of this egotistical arrogant man, and now—you were happily drenched for him.

time felt like it went by so fast. those two months you’ve gotten to know this man felt like two seconds. mayhaps that unfamiliar that continued to reside in your chest was…love?

just imagining that made you almost gag, but perhaps that was it.

could it be that you were falling for a guy you were arranged to spend the rest of your life with? you remember a conversation with toji, telling him that you had a bit of commitment issues.

so did he.

that caused the two of you to bond, and toji even opened up to you a bit. about his ex-wife.

he was really selective with his words, but whenever he spoke about her, his eyes always lit up.

toji knew what it was like to be in love already. you didn’t.

“always trapped up in those pretty thoughts of yours, huh,” toji snaps you back to reality.

he’s made sure not to ruin your fishnets, swiftly peeling them down with his teeth before you don’t even realize he’s already got you more soaked than you were before.

your cunt drooled for him—aching for more of his touch. the second you felt his breath fan against your entrance, he’s toying with you by blowing against your pussy.

you whined, starting to pant with your eyes flickering straight down towards him. “f-fuck. our marriage’s gonna get bad luck, toji.. wasn’t supposed to see me y-yet.”

“i’m gonna marry you tonight, princess,” he reassures you. and for a split second, he has this stare as if he’s entirely joking with you.

however, his tone always sounded deadly serious.

that rasp to it made you squeeze your thighs shut together in desperation. “nothin’ is gonna happen. we won’t get bad luck.”

and you moaned, watching him smear a thumb down your swollen clit.

it’s pulsing, and he doesn’t wait to lick a long stripe against your folds. his tongue made you swallow, already your legs started to quaver.

he lays the base of his tongue flat against your pussy, and you bite your lip, feeling the edge of his scar swipe by your entrance.

you liked that, a lot. a bit more than you should because he notices. gathering a wad of spit before he spat on your glistening folds. “ooh. ya like feelin’ my scar like that, princess? how’s it feel when i rub against you like this?”

“good...goooood,” you whined, burying your fingers into his hair. dragging him all across your folds, he laps up your slick that started to run down his chin before you whimper. “your scar. it-tickles, toji.”

his lashes close for a brief moment, and you moan once he slides a finger inside, gingerly easing his way inside, feeling you squeeze around him. “aw,”

he purrs lightly, pressing a teasing chaste kiss alongside your clit. lowering his tongue, he makes sure it’s going right underneath your sensitive nub.

toji was precise - his tongue knew every direct spot to make you sob out his name.

you didn’t even bother being quiet this time—you whimpered and mewled until your pretty voice was strained. “keep lookin’ away ‘n i’ll stop givin’ this pussy attention.”

you’re panting, heaving and heaving as your eyes trail back down towards toji.

the tip of his nose prods up against your folds, the fact that he’s nose deep…not a care in the world.

his tongue continues to loll out, lapping up every drop of your sweetened slick. it carelessly coated his mouth, the few specks of facial hair that was barely visible. it ran all over the under part of his chin. such a messy eater. but you and him both knew that.

“eyes down here, yeahhh. that’s it,” he coos, applying extra amounts of pressure with his tongue. he lies it flat down, and he was so sloppy.

gathering up strings of his saliva, flickering his eyes back towards you to give you a cocky grin. “pull on my hair some more…fuck, jus’ like that. yank it.”

toji gets hard feeling you roughly grip onto his darkened black locks. it gets tangled within your fingers, and you start to briefly massage his scalp, earning a low groan from him.

toji could eat you out for hours, without a single care in the world—just his tongue between your legs, eating you out like a starved man.

as his tongue moves upwards, you whimper out a “s-shit,” that echoes throughout the room. his thumb skims against your entrance before you feel his tongue slide its way upwards, backwards. an entire zigzag of letters. “oh my goddd, toji. ‘m gonna c-cum.”

“such a nasty fiancé. was about to walk down the aisle with no panties. the fuckin’ nerve,” he grumbles.

a pout curls against your lips once you feel his tongue slow down.

gradually, you start to move your hips by his face and he shoots you a glare that makes you pulse. toji breaks away, pressing kisses near your inner thighs now. he’s taking attention away from your clit, and you whimper. “awh. what’s with the pout? don’t like waiting huh?”

“t— toji…” you weren’t fond of being edged, of waiting. toji raises his brows, a thumb toying with your clit, stroking it before even giving it a sweet nibble. “p-please. don’t kiss my thighs, jus’ finish. wanna cum..”

“pretty please,” he corrects you, purposely slowing his pace down just to watch you squirm in such desire. your legs. “say it girl. speak to me in that pretty voice.”

it shook, vigorously.

all from the rapid strokes of his tongue. your breathing patterns became so irregular it had you gasping for hair.

the way he made sure to suck and lick over every spot. chills, shivers and a plethora of other feelings run down your body before you moan, feeling him lightly nibble against your slit.

with a shaky breath exiting your throat, you mewl out a whiney, “pretty please toji. pleasepleaseplease.”

“good girl,” he says in a smooth tone, making you let off a moan solely from the way he spoke to you.

toji lowered his words, pronouncing in such a silky way that it made you pulse. he takes a concise slurp near your g-spot before mimicking a technique with his fingers.

unhurriedly, he slides a finger into your slick entrance, still hovering his tongue all throughout your pussy before you’re just nearly about to break.

with your maw dropped wide, you came with the most tumultuous orgasm imaginable. he brushes his tongue against your slit as you ride out your orgasm, body growing limp abruptly over the table before you whine once he gets up.

“open that mouth,” he utters, getting right between your trembling legs. without even a split question, you part your lips - unaware of the kiss that he planted right on your mouth.

toji picks you up, the pretty anklet you were just idly brushing down his back. he carries you towards the sofa, still tongue tied with you—you moan in his mouth, tasting the sweetened tang of alcohol on his tongue.

“y’don't know how bad i need you,” he gruffs, breaking between kisses, strands of your own saliva departs, and the more he shoved his tongue down your throat, the more you tasted yourself. swiftly, you move your tongue beneath his bottom lip, tasting how sweet you were and it made you whine.

toji’s words rang throughout your ears like church bells. he practically treated you like a rag doll. your dress was off—and you were all exposed with just a pretty bra.

“tell me you want me,” he mouthed, getting directly between you. toji was between your legs, hovering over you with bulky arms just stretched near the sides of you. he leans in, cupping your chin, stroking your thumb. “tell me you want me, and i’ll give you all of me.”

“i— i want all of you, toji,” you pant, your eyes focusing directly on him and only him. toji was still in his tuxedo. he was so handsome, there was certainly no denying. with matching black slacks, he reached for his tie—giving it a firm pull before snickering at your answer.

“good girl,” he praises you, and you’re so impatient. with a few shuffling you hear the commotion of him unbuckling his pants — he's intentionally going slow, dragging things out to see that sweet pout form across your lips again. “goin’ as fast as i can, sweetheart. don’t give me that look.”

he was always such a tease. you kissed your teeth in annoyance, averting your eyes towards the ceiling before he’s finally through.

toji stares down, using his right hand to pry your legs open a bit. his left hand to give himself a few pumps. you glanced down, and nearly moaned at the sight of his length. he was so thick, veins ran all the way down and you were almost drooling.

he grunts, spotting you gawking at him and it only gets him ten times harder. taking a deep inhale, you stare at his happy trail. speckles of black hair decorating near his abdomen. it was sexy, toji was a well trimmed man surprisingly.

“f-fuck, look how hard you make me,” he huffs out, and that’s when he makes you turn over on your back. you were staggered a bit at the sudden change of position—yet before you could react, that’s when you felt the plump tip of his dick prod against your entrance. “damn. she’s all excited for me. fuck this wedding, i just want you princess.”

his words…there came that same feeling brewing up inside you. a soft whine escapes from your lips as you’re dumbly arched beside the sofa, sucking in a breath. he finishes gently aligning himself.

once he starts to go in, you let off a, “f-fuckkk,” that reverberated across the entire fitting room. he was big. saying toji was big, an entire understatement.

his girth had you nearly choking on your own saliva. with a single hand, he grips onto your waist, watching you gradually swallow him. “toji, you’re so b-big. ‘s really big.”

“perfect size just for you, baby,” he sighs, already feeling droplets of sweat race down the sides of his forehead.

toji’s heaving, he licks his lips at the sight of you arching for him. as each inch sinks in further and further—you could feel him stretch you out even better than his fingers ever could.

your pussy squelched, longing for him to keep going. start up a pace, do something..

“easy girl, easy,” he murmurs, just barely halfway in. you try to bear around him and he smiles, running a hand down your spine to make you whimper. “relax for me. that’s it. good fuckin’ good.”

“t-toji..” you’d moan. each set of praises he gave you made your head spin, your heart raced, thinking was so hard for you. especially with such a size as big as his. “oh my g-god, ‘m gonna cum.”

he clicks his tongue, almost in before caressing your ass. “no baby, y’er not gonna cum yet,” and then he titter’s underneath his breath. “cute little drama queen.”

he was right in some way—you weren’t gonna cum so soon, but it did feel like it.

your face lowers against the cushioned pillow, flat down and you hug against it. biting your lip, your eyes rolled into the very depths of your cranium once toji presents you with a single rough thrust.

one thrust.

one thrust was all it took to make you let off the most sweetest melodic whimper imaginable. toji wanted to hear it—again, and again, and again. if it was anything he knew, he was slowly becoming more and more addicted to his future wife’s voice.

“i just want you to feel all of me,” he starts, speaking between thrusts. your lips, spit-glossed and quavering. you whimper out, feeling his body weight press against you.

it was so provocative. so arousing, this particular position.

doggystyle but with more depth.

he’d be able to reach more in a deeper angle to where you’re barely able to formulate comprehensible sentences. “i wanna reach you in spots no one’s ever reached before, princess,” he continued, leaning right up close to you—you let off a whine, feeling his cock stretch you out with such simplicity. “will you let me do that?”

“yes, yes. please..” you immediately spat out, feeling yourself coat the lower part of his shaft with your slick. you were already drenched, so soaked from before. being propped up over the armrest of the sofa. it made you feel so lewd.

your cunt gripped all against him, gummy walls tugging back and forth tightly that it makes you whimper out. “toji, i want you. i- i want you too.”

“yeah girl. i know you do.” he replies with sass, giving your ass a brief smack—only to quickly caress it shortly afterwards. the sting, you licked your lips before letting off a sweet whimper. just a simple action as that made you throb.

toji was a big guy, once he started up a rhythmic pace, you immediately fell in love. not with him, with his strikes, his mean thwacking hits against your cunt.

or was it …?

only time could tell.

you were far too dumb to comprehend anything. all you could even fathom was how big he was. stretching your cunt out as if it was some sort of elastic band.

toji’s cock reached every crevice, you felt his tip prod against spots you didn’t even know could be reached.

“o-ohhh my fuckin’ god, fuckkk,” you’d gasp, feeling him lower his weight against you just a bit further. by this point, he was smacking his hips roughly against you.

it was hypnotizing. the way he rolled his hips at such a titillating speed, so deep. you were almost drooling—you wanted more, and more, and more. “right there, ‘s too good. fuck me right th—”

“don’t tell me how to fuck, princess.” he groans, making you lie back against the wooly arm of the sofa. his tone was so raspy and mean, you were aching each time he spoke to you.

toji’s favorite part was seeing your ass go back against him, it made him kiss his teeth everytime. the recoil.

your ass had him locked hard. just jouncing back against him. he pivots his hips before you moan once he starts to shift a bit.

“need to go deeper,” he groans, and you don’t know what he means before you feel him lean right up against you. you whimper, feeling the back of toji’s sock suddenly make contact with your neck.

“deeper ‘n deeper,” he huffs out, and you moan at the soft fabric brushing near your skin. he was fucking you with a foot pressed lightly against your neck. this angle—it was filthy.

if you weren’t drooling, then you certainly were now. he groans, each time you clamp down against him it makes his jaw tighten. “waited so long jus’ to have ya underneath me like this, baby.”

the more toji spoke, the more you disassociated. his dick did wonders.

each stroke had you gasping for air. his hits against you, the way he had his foot right by your neck. pretty lashes of your continued to flicker and flutter whilst he was fucking you insanely stupid.

“m-more, please. getting close, tojiiii.” and he finds it cute. the way you drag out your words in such a obscene way. he’s making jerk back and back against him—it elicits out the honeyed sounds from you.

“fuck back against me ‘n i’ll think about it,” he puffs out. you whine pathetically, making a cute attempt to move back against him.

it was barely any movement due to toji’s foot pressed up against your neck but you tried. he cackles roughly, teasingly sliding fingers down your back before cooing. “a for effort, baby. i’ll take it from here, yeah?”

and he does, like the true gentleman he was.

toji keeps you in that same position for a good thirty minutes until your legs were close to essentially giving out.

you came a lot, repeatedly. constantly.

over and over again until the word cum was forever the only existing word engraved into your dumb little brain. you were speechless, fundamentally losing track of your orgasms he gave you. you shuddered, each position making you covet for more. you didn’t want to stop.

not now, not ever.

“fuckin’ look at her grip on me so sloppy like,” he nips at his tongue, currently having you laid on your side. he pistons his dick in and out of you at such a tempo…it was so amorous.

he was referring to the way the strings of his and your own cum stringing together.

back and forth, so messy. he watched in awe, sliding his tongue amongst his lips before groaning. “can only imagine what our honeymoon would be like, sweetheart. i’d probably fuck around ‘n get you pregnant. maybe gift you with a kid or two.”

“t— toji,” you’d moan, and a rigid grip goes against your waist. whilst he was giving you vigorous shots from the side, you’re just hugging him tightly with your squelching walls.

the sounds your cunt made from its impact was so loud. it earned a hiss from him before he slowed his thrusts down. “do it.”

“silly girl,” he laments, a thumb stroking against the softness of your side. he was pumping you full of inches, you’re just taking it with your tongue lolled out—it felt so good.

each spot, he hit it deeply. the curve of toji’s dick, it had somewhat of an upward curve that made him reach a more thorough angle inside of you. “f-fuck, but ‘m gonna stuff you full again. ‘s that what you want? a plump pretty belly jus’ for me to see?”

you whimper, nodding your head ardently.

“use those words.” he huffs out, deepening his strokes against you. while feeling your ass jumar and clamp back by him. your walls hugged him solidly like a vice. it’s got his head spinning in circles, on a constant loop.

“give it to me t-toji, wan’ you to fill me up again,” you’d hiccup, and then he suddenly makes you lie down on your back. he gives you a smile, dark green irises staring right into you before he pulls out briefly—just before plugging himself back in.

toji swallows thickly, his jaw clenching steadfastly once he ends up cumming again. he poured such thick ropes into you.

it was warm. the way it trickled into you, he makes you grow quiet so you can hear it.

“…f-fuckin’ hell,” he husked, his head going back as he raises your leg up to give it a soft kiss. you milked him so good to where his voice started to become a bit more shaky. even a bit whiny.

toji stuttering was something new to you—and you’d be a liar if you said that didn’t turn you on. “take it all princess, saved all this jus’ for you….damn.”

he utters the last part underneath his breath, his abs flexing before he grabs ahold of his dick. it was swollen. throbbing from the stimulation before he pulled out again, this time smearing his cum all across your entrance. “always… always liked myself a messy girl.”

eventually, the two of you nearly ended up missing your own ceremony. dozens of guests came to show their support for the new soon-to-be wedded couple.

toji helped clean you up, as promised, not a damage was done to your costly dress.

the venue couldn’t have been anymore perfect. the surprise was a bit ruined figuring the two of you had seen each other right before the official wedding.

toji’s hair was a bit messed up. he runs his hands through it whilst the entire crow stands up once you start trodding your feet down the aisle.

that generic traditional wedding piano tune plays, and you’re walking with your father, the train piece of your wedding dress flowing down throughout each step.

toji has this gaze on you the entire time, hands buried in his pockets and his eyes linger. it made you nervous—something was telling you something, but you chose to ignore it. did you love him? or did you not?

once you finally made it up near the stand with toji, he grabs your hands with the most sleaziest grin. he strokes against your hands as the priest started to recite the same broad speech, “dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy union of…”

as he spoke, the two of you kept eyes on each other the entire time. toji towered over you, and he genuinely looked in love. he had a softness to his face, yet a smug look that never went away. your gut was telling you something—yet you couldn’t figure out exactly what.

the priest continued to speak before focusing his attention towards you. “do you take this man to be your husband, to live together, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health—forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“i do.” you mutter without hesitation.

the priest then turns towards toji before letting off a sigh, staring back into his book. “sir. do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health—forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

toji stares lovingly into your eyes, tilting his head before he leans up close to you—you’re caught by surprise once he kisses you early. it was a deep kiss, you kissed back, wrapping your arms around him before he pulls away.

yet before he can say, “i do,”

toji makes your heart come to a stop, murmuring out the fatal words against your lips, “sorry baby, i can’t.”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #female reader #anime smut #tw sex

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missroki · 3 months

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SNEAKY AS A SPIDER┊gojo satoru is one of your closest and oldest friends, but recently he’s been acting strange. he’s unreliable, flaky. will say one thing and do another. after your science internship starts, you decide it's time to call him out on his behavior. it’s just your luck that it turns out he’s the most wanted vigilante in the city.

content: friends to lovers, mutual pining, female!reader x spider-man!gojo, public sex, reader is nicknamed bee, holding you with one arm, fingering, creampie, reader wears glasses, reader called pretty and baby, depictions of violence and injury, accidental manhandling, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected, he breaks the headboard. all lowercase. word count: 10k

satoru has been acting… weird, lately. and it’s not his usual weird; the way he always wears tinted glasses regardless of setting, his intense obsession with anything sweet, the way he talks as if he’s constantly on camera. no, in the three years you’ve been friends, satoru has always been that way.

he’s a little different from the rest of the friend group, the words you’d typically use to describe him were annoying, loud, and maybe even quirky if you wanted to really piss him off. thing is, flaky was never a part of that list until recently and it felt as if gojo satoru was rarely ever around anymore.

ever since your college internship started, you’ve seen your friend less and less. this was unusual especially because you were normally attached at the hip — the “hip” being suguru as you two argued over the last slice of pizza. if you were to ask anyone else in the friend group, there was definitely a ‘will they won’t they’ situation going on, but regardless of your feelings towards each other he was always there. a constant.

nowadays he cancels plans at a moment's notice, one time leaving before you’d even grabbed a table with your friends.

you started paying more attention after that.

as you caught on to his patterns, it was hard for you not to notice that he conveniently disappeared as soon as things started going wrong in the city. at first you thought he was just trying to avoid danger, leaving at the first sound of more than one police siren in quick succession. it wouldn’t surprise you if the loud mouth was all talk.

you’ll never forget the day when the two of you almost got crushed during a villain’s concrete throwing rampage — only to be suddenly saved by the infamous red and blue vigilante that swings through the sky.

spider-man, they’re calling him. a masked hero running through the streets and taking down anyone that dared to live a life of crime. BOOM! POW! CRASH! WHAM! are the only sounds you hear when that guy’s around. that fateful day was the first time you ever made direct contact with him, and when you heard him speak — you knew.

you’ve heard satoru’s shitty attempts at prank calls enough to know that badly deepened voice anywhere.

so here you stand, on a rooftop in manhattan, watching as he clumsily tries to change into his civilian clothing. he hasn’t noticed you quite yet, tripping over his sweats as he tries to shimmy them on while hopping on one leg. he falls unceremoniously on the ground, rubbing his left ass cheek as it meets the concrete.

“need some help?” you ask, watching as his head whips in your direction. his body catches up before he does, limbs hurriedly trying to cover himself. it’s no use, you’ve seen the skin-like suit already and how it hugs him in all the right places. despite this, he still grabs his backpack (the dijimon one that he swears is not for children) and tries to cover the large emblem on his chest anyway.

“h–hey there, bee,” he stutters out, “fancy seeing you here.” he shifts so that his elbow is resting against the ground and holding his chin, on his side with the other hand on his hip.

“wow,” you muse, “you’re definitely pulling off the casual look.”

“i try. it’s the only way we can get through this rat race called life. it’s hard out here for us normal everyday college students.”

you raise an eyebrow. “normal and everyday, huh?”

“yep! normal, plain, basic... all the other adjectives…” he trails off and you see his eyes flicker to the door behind you. you can tell that he’s worried, wondering if anyone else would be making their way up here soon.

you know they aren’t. your lab team believed the lie that you came to take some samples of the greenhouse for your thesis. everyone knew not to bother you when you got in the zone. you’d run around with a million different tasks, swiftly collecting data like a worker bee collects pollen — your namesake.

“hm. and what other adjectives could we use?” you inquire, blood pressure rising. “oh, I know. sneaky, devious, cowardly—!”

“would you believe that i’m just heavily into cosplay?”

“gojo satoru!” you hiss, your tone immediately making him stand up to his feet, palms raised in your direction. his body is fully covered by his suit, the only thing missing the mask. even now it’s hard for you to imagine him under the two white teardrops that peered down at you that day, swiftly bringing you to safety. “explain yourself.”

he groans as if the confession will actually kill him, reaching a gloved hand back to scratch at his undercut. his hair is a mess, sticking in all directions. you begrudgingly find it cute. “if i do, do you promise not to freak out?”

you briskly walk up to him, black heels clacking as your lab coat sways behind you. “i’m already freaked out, satoru. who wouldn’t be after finding out their friend is spi—“

“shhh!l” he reprimands, hands flying around in the air in front of you. “what if someone hears you?” he quickly looks left and then right, peering around the rooftop as if the mystery person would materialize out of thin air.

“hears me?” you scoff, lowering your glasses to apply pressure to your nose bridge. “that’s the least of our problems. you’re not the only person at risk here. you’re a criminal, a vigilante and i am now officially a guilty party.”

satoru watches as you lean against one of the wooden analysis tables, careful not to touch the equipment with your hands or sleeves.

“i didn’t exactly ask you to be,” he grumbles, following suit and resting against the dark wood. “listen, i wanted to tell you. both of you. but suguru is so morally righteous that i couldn’t trust him to not tell my family. i didn’t want to drag you in and have you constantly worrying about me. i’m sorry, really, but i don’t regret doing it. i just regret you finding out this way.”

you snort, glancing over at him. you notice now that he has gotten bigger over the past few months; large biceps and shoulders broader than they’ve ever been. “‘toru, i’ve known for three months now.”

his eyes widen, bright blue and vivid underneath the moonlight. you should be heading home now, but seeing him swing through the sky and land on your building, a detour was added. it was the only way you could get him alone. “what do you mean you’ve known? since when?”

“christmas eve,” you answer sheepishly, “you uh, you saved me from that guy with the horn? when we were shopping?”

“rhino.”

“is that his name?”

he shrugs. “it’s what i call him.”

you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“alright then, sure, rhino. the guy damn near crushed us.”

satoru bumps your hip with his, a sly smile on his face. “i wouldn’t have let him. especially not if i knew you’d hug me so tightly after.” of course this is when he tries to flirt with you.

“we were flying through the air and i thought my friend,” you poke his chest and try your best to ignore the hard ridges, “was still under the rubble.”

“well, good thing i wasn’t!” he exclaims, “i was busy saving your life and being a hero.”

“a vigilante.”

“a hero. and a good one, too.” a pouty look passes over his eyes, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy. “i knew you’d react this way.”

in the years you’ve known him, satoru has always been a bit over dramatic, but you can tell that you may have actually hurt him a bit with your words. you quickly backtrack. “alright,” you sigh, “maybe you are a hero but… that also makes you a target, satoru. i’m more worried than i’m angry. what if something happens? fuck, like that week that you weren’t in class? you got hurt didn’t you—“

“come on, bee.” he interrupts, moving to stand in front of you. when did he get taller? “i need you to trust me. just this once.”

his hands drift to your shoulders, gripping your lab coat and pulling you close so that you’re forced to place your hands on his chest to create distance. he’s warm underneath your fingertips. you give in and loosely wrap your arms around his waist.

“okay,” you murmur, “but you have to come up with better excuses, satoru. shoko thinks you’re on drugs, suguru thinks you’re depressed, and nanami… well, actually he’s been fine.”

“ouch,” he whispers with a teasing lift in his voice, “that hurts.”

“your ass or what i said?”

“both. definitely both.”

the two of you giggle, your hands migrating to his hips as you pull away to look up at him. his arms are around you now and you can feel each muscle flex as he caresses your back. it feels intimate, familiar. it’s not the first time you’ve hugged but warmth rises up your neck. the night air nips at the skin beneath your glasses.

“you know, i missed this.” you sigh, “this is probably the longest conversation we’ve had in months since you’re always gone now.” the words are sitting in waiting on your tongue. “i really missed you, satoru.”

you like to think he knew this, even before you told him.

“shocker.” he says this teasingly, but quickly shifts back to being serious, a small smile on his face. “i missed you too, bee.”

you break eye contact so that your gaze is in line with his chest, puffing out a gust of air as your eyes zero in on the spider emblem. “i never got the chance to say thank you. for that day.”

“don’t,” he responds, “it’ll inflate my ego and then i’ll hold it over your head forever.”

“oh, yeah? well, at least you’re honest.”

“painfully so. that being said, i do still require a small payment for my services. it’s only fair.”

you raise an eyebrow, but nod, your left hand coming up to pull lint from the textured fabric of his spider suit. “uh oh, what?”

his gaze flickers from your eyes to your mouth. “do you think,” the tip of his tongue glides across his lips, the pink muscle leaving as quickly as it came. “i could kiss you?”

for a moment, you simply stare him, drinking in the facial features that are situated directly in front of you. satoru has always been handsome, you knew that when you met him. only recently had your feelings developed into something… more and you both were seemingly content with letting things stay the same.

as far as you could tell, gojo satoru wasn’t interested in romance. you’d never brought it up but there was only so many flirty jokes that you could take. it makes things worse that he’d been gone for so long. if you thought that you’d grown immune to the stupidly charming man, you were wrong. even though he’s a mess, freshly out of a fight according to the small cut on his eyebrow, he retains that alluring, almost unreal beauty that comes with someone like him.

warmth flushes your cheeks as you are suddenly more aware of your close proximity than ever. your eyes widen, a nervous giggle leaving your lips. “you’re not being fair.”

“i’m being serious.” he replies, though his tone tells you he is anything but. he lifts a hand to tuck a curl of your hair behind your ear. “i heard you talking to shoko. you said that spider-man had… what was it again? the tightest ass you’d ever seen— ouch!”

you punch his shoulder hard but he barely moves. your fingers throb and you ignore the pain as you quickly pull away. “that was a private conversation!”

“your voice carries and i just happened to be around! also, are you sure you aren’t secretly a superhero? i’m probably bruising as we speak.”

you roll your eyes. “alright, i’m leaving.”

you turn to make your way to the exit door, but you’re swiftly pulled back by your wrist. before you can even blink, the white-haired menace lifts you up bridal style in his arms. you immediately start pounding at his chest. “satoru put me down—!”

“come on, kiss me! you know you want to.” he smirks at you, cocky and knowing. he shifts you so that your legs wrap around his waist. not expecting the sudden movement, your arms automatically wrap around his neck to keep you grounded. when did he get so strong?

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“oh, i get it now,” he teases as he leans in close, voice soft as his lips graze the shell of your ear. “you want me to put the mask back on?”

this stuns you, and by the way you tense up you’re sure he knows that you’ve probably fantasized about something similar in the past. “you’re insufferable.”

“keep going, this is doing it for me.”

“i’m actually going to kill you.”

“not before i get my kiss, bee! come on, it’ll be fun.”

you narrow your eyes at him. ‘fun’ for satoru could mean many things, typically on the more dangerous side. if the small scar on your thigh was anything to go by, you might need a helmet and shin guards. “be serious.”

“do you want to kiss me?” he asks suddenly, bending down to press his forehead to yours. you feel your gaze soften at the same time his does. fuck, he definitely wasn’t being fair now.

“what kind of question is that?” you breathe out.

“a serious one.” his eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes peering into yours. “answer it.”

“…of course i want to kiss you. you already know what this is.” you grumble, giving in.

“then come here. i only bite on the second date.”

“do not use tongue.”

“sure, pretty.” pretty.

you shift in his hold, staring into the familiar blue eyes in front of you. with a sigh, you cautiously begin to lean in. before your lips can touch, something occurs to you and you abruptly pull back. satoru does a terrible job of hiding his disappointment.

“wait, you can pick me up?”

at first he gives you a confused look. blinks once, then twice as his brain catches up to your statement. he looks down at your current position, him holding you as if you were a paper weight.

“of course i can pick you up. i can pick up a car.”

you distantly wonder whether he can hear the erratic pounding of your pulse at the information. his palms ever so lightly curve over your ass before settling on the undersides of your thighs, drawing you close enough that you feel the hard ridges of his muscles again. you want to touch him, drag your hands over the sharp divets in his body. maybe it’s the sleep deprivation or just your own desire shining through, but you decide that maybe just this once you’ll tease him back. "a car, huh? i knew i was crushing on spider-man for a reason."

despite your attempts to keep your voice steady, there’s still a slight nervousness to it, he smirks. "i am a superhero after all, i hear girls typically like that sort of thing.”

"that depends on if you’re done teasing me." you murmur. you are certain that the shiver beneath you isn’t from the chill night air.

“i can be,” he responds, hooking one arm under your ass and moving the other to hold your chin. his nose brushes against yours. “but you have to stop stalling.”

you’re not sure if he’s talking about just the kiss, or the obvious tension between the two of you. either way, you give him an imperceptible nod and the smallest ‘okay’. it is all the reassurance he needs to let the line that has buzzed between you for so long — snap.

you know you’ve reached the point of no return when his lips touch yours. a warmth spreads through your body, threatening to set you aflame if you didn’t hold satoru tighter against you. the hand that once held your chin presses against your back. you are impossibly close but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

the anticipation of finally kissing him has reached its boiling point, bubbling up inside of you and spilling over the edges of your heart. unable to contain it, you whine against him, feeling his thumb rub circles into your back.

satoru’s mouth is hot against yours as you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue. you can feel him smirk as he easily lets you in. the taste of a fruity energy drink is on the tip of his tongue as you intertwine, moving your fingers to trail up into his hair.

it’s only when you feel a familiar ache between your thighs that you pull away, the two of you huffing against each other's mouths.

“what’s wrong?” he pants, “did i do something?”

you shake your head, mind hazy as you process your thoughts. “n-no you’re fine. very fine, actually, i just… i think i’m getting too lost in you. we should stop.”

he hums. “you wanna stop?” satoru is already leaning in to capture your lips again.

you voice is barely above a whisper. “uh huh,” as you eagerly close the distance.

this feeling is new, nothing you’ve ever experienced from anyone until now and especially not from satoru. his normally teasing mouth is anything but as he kisses you, explores you in the form of languid kisses. hands that you now know can bring someone to their knees, twitch as they caress your thigh and spine, grip the nape of your neck.

it is entirely meant to be innocent, you had no intentions of crossing that line. but then you shift slightly and feel the swell of his cock against you. a whimper stumbles from your lips.

now it is his turn to pull away, forehead resting against yours. “okay, fuck i see what you mean now,” he breathes out, “we should actually stop now.”

you nod your head ever so slightly, lips just barely an inch away from his. “y-yeah, we really should.”

when you say this, you swear that you mean it. of course with the way satoru is looking at you, eyes narrowed and lidded, it’s hard to be stern. his cheeks are rosy, lips bruised pink, hair a start contrast against the deep blue of the sky. you don’t want to stop, you know he doesn’t either.

“how long do we have until someone comes looking for you?”

you start pressing warm, opened mouthed kisses to the exposed skin of his jaw, his hand grips down tighter on your thigh. your words are slightly muffled against his skin. “now? like twenty minutes.”

you barely register it when you feel yourself being placed on one of the work tables, dress hurriedly pushed up around your waist. your heels clatter to the ground but you don’t have time to care when his fingers begin to tease and rub against your clothed slit. “s–satoru! wait–!”

“we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” you lean into his shoulder and whimper as his long fingers rub at you through the soaked fabric of your panties. “just be good for me, yeah? let me make up for not being around like i should’ve been.”

there’s a brief pause where his glove is discarded to the ground. you feel a now bare hand pull your panties to the side, the cold night air making you shiver despite the warm body in front of you. there’s the distinct sound of your slick coating his fingers as they spread you open, a moan finding its way out as you grind against him.

his hand shifts so that his thumb teases your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. “satoru,” you whimper, “please.”

you feel him smirk as he presses kisses against your flushed cheeks and forehead. “yeah, baby?” he murmurs, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers? get you nice and ready for me?”

you gasp as two of them enter you, dragging against your walls as you clench down. “fuck, you’re tight,” he comments, a flash of panic on his face that you don’t see with your face still in his shoulder. “this isn’t your first, is it?“

you shake your head, calming his trepid heart. “just been a while–!“ you choke out, his fingers grazing your g-spot.

“then i better make it memorable, yeah?”

your equilibrium is thrown off balance and you can only gasp as you suddenly find yourself in the air. satoru’s fingers pound into your cunt as you drip down the grooves of his palm. while one hand is dragging your moans out of you, the other holds you as if you weigh nothing, strong and stable as it curves around your ass.

“oh, fuck!” you moan, gripping at his shoulders as tears pool in your eyes. his fingers are relentless and he shows no sign of tiring as he keeps you firmly in place. even if you wanted to get away you couldn’t, like a caged animal, or more fittingly an insect trapped in his web.

your glasses start to tilt off your face and instead of having to push them up again, you move to take them off. you yelp when a bite is placed on your neck, cunt clenching involuntarily as satoru pulls back with a lustful gaze. “keep them on,” he groans, “you look so sexy with them on, bee.”

you lean your forehead against his, your moans and whimpers becoming intertwined with his as you kiss him again. this kiss is different from the others you’ve shared, all tongue and lips as loud smacks are heard whenever you pull apart.

“need you so badly,” you admit, “wanna feel you inside me, filling me up.”

your friend (if you could even still call him that) is quick to grant your wish, easing his fingers out of your cunt and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “one sec, gotta get this off..”

he places you again on the table, quickly tugging down his suit so that his torso is exposed. you see the swell of his cock where the suit now hangs, dripping precum from the pink tip against the bottom of his stomach. fuck, was he not wearing underwear?

you reach out to tease the head, reveling in the way satoru bucks forward into your palm. “how do you want me?” he asks, his heavy breaths obvious against his sweat slicked chest.

you smirk, lifting your arms in his direction. “i want you to bounce me on you. you’re strong, right? you can do all the work?”

satoru chuckles but it’s not in his usual playful tone, a hand grips your throat but doesnt add pressure, holding you in place. “we don’t have a lot of time, i can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you.”

“i don’t want you to be,” you whisper, wetting your lips with your tongue.

he quickly pulls your panties off your legs, lifting you with one arm so that you’re positioned perfectly. with his free hand, satoru guides himself into your wet cunt, growling as you take him to the hilt. he hasn’t even moved you yet and your juices are already dripping down to coat his balls.

“hold on tight, pretty girl. you can even bite me if you like, I’ll barely feel it.”

you’re trembling, holding onto his shoulders as you adjust to his size. when you nod your head against his neck, satoru lifts you up before slamming you back down on his cock.

wet slaps of skin echo in the quiet night. you’re too high up for the bustling city to make much noise, your moans and whines lost as you dig your nails into his back.

satoru isn’t faring well either, his free hand groping your ass and copping a feel of your tits. “when we’re not on this fucking roof i’m gonna worship this pretty body, but you don’t want that right now do you? no, you like that i can fuck you with one arm; treat you like my own personal fuck doll.”

you moan at his words, impossibly wet as he tweaks your nipples and grinds the fat of your ass. you feel consumed by him, like there isn’t a part of your body that he hasn’t touched.

“did you – ah.” satoru hisses, biting down on his own lip. “did you hope it was me?”

“w-what?” you whimper, trying your best to focus despite the hand that you feel now playing with your clit. “i-i didn’t know until after. heard your vo – shit – your voice!”

he moves your body quicker now, grunting each time he pistons his cock into your tight heat. “did it turn you on? knowing that i kept you safe, that i protected you?”

you feel a familiar pressure in your stomach. “s–stop talking,” you whimper, “or i’ll—“

“cum? i want you to, honey bee. want you to milk me for all i’m worth.” he kisses against your neck, up the skin to bite down and suck on your earlobe. “cum for your hero. show him how thankful you are.”

with eyes damp and foggy, you hold him tight. “s–satoru, c–cumming—!” and feel your pussy flood with his cum. tears track down your cheeks at your orgasm but satoru’s movements don’t stop, riding out his orgasm as you slump into his chest. “there you go, honey bee, ride it out. that’s it.”

you feel like you’re floating, weightless against him. satoru holds you in both of his arms now, fixing your glasses before gently petting your hair. “are you okay?” he asks, murmuring into the crown of your head.

you nod, sighing against his chest. “more than okay.”

he’s about to respond when the loud echo of police sirens go off in the distance. you perk up, looking at him in alarm. you know from the look in his eyes that he—

“i have to go.” he says, placing you down on the table and hurriedly handing you your panties. he’s tugging his suit back on, glove and mask following soon after.

“seriously, satoru?” you ask, squirming at the feeling of his cum inside you. he gently puts your heels back on your feet.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. but i’ll see you later, okay? we can… talk. leave your window open.” he’s about to leave, shoot off into the night, but you grab his arm and stop him in his tracks.

“satoru, be safe.”

he tugs his mask up to reveal a small smirk, leaning to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “of course, always.”

with those parting words, he swings off into the night. you can only hope that he’s able to keep his promise.

on the nights when you dream of him, you wake up in fear.

sweats drips from the hot, temperamental skin of your forehead, tiny baby hairs curl at the moisture against your nape. you are falling, gasping as you sit up abruptly from your chilled bedsheets. shadows seemingly shift in all corners of your bedroom and the edges of your mind. you know now that the heavy pounding you hear is not the rush of thick blood pouring from a gushing wound, but instead a hand against the wooden frame of your bedroom door.

“bee!” your grandfather yells from behind your door, “you gotta see what’s on the tv, darlin’!” his accent is heavy, years of living in the city warping his speech.

you clear your throat and reach for the plush cover on your bed. when you find only a thin sheet, you realize that you must have kicked it off in the night. you hear the pounding again and imagine a weathered, sun spotted fist against strong pine.

“c–coming,” you stutter out, “just give me a sec!”

from behind the door comes your grandfather’s signature grunt of acceptance. you notice the way his knees click as he makes his way back to the front room, showing his old age.

you stumble out of bed, legs loose as you tug your pajama shorts lower on your thighs. you didn’t want to have to hear a mouthful from your grandmother tonight about showing too much skin.

when you lift your head again, you realize that the fear that manifested before still lingers, your vision is blurry as you try to make sense of your room that’s only illuminated by pale moonlight and a flickering neon sign.

your science fair trophies are where they have always been, your poloroids are still attached to the wall with the same tacky blue paste. your basket of unfolded laundry is still there and your high school diploma sits mounted right above it. nothing is out of the ordinary, but in its own way, normalcy is nothing short of terrifying.

you quickly snatch your glasses from the bedside table and put them on, thankfully realizing that the outline of a jacket was not the sleep paralysis demon you originally assumed it was.

the apartment you live in has always been small, so it doesn’t take you much effort to make it to the front room. hurried footsteps follow the sound of crashing and gunshots from your grandparents old box set tv. as you round the corner you see your grandpa leaning back in his favorite chair and your grandma holding what seems to be an abandoned crotchet project.

your blood runs cold as you watch the scene unfolding before you. it’s the channel five news, live and showing a high speed chase down a busy new york street. a masked set of criminals are shooting from the back of an unmarked van, lifting their heavy weapons up high in hopes of hitting what appears to be a moving object (with the way they whip their guns around in the air).

the figure is distinctly male, webs shooting from his wrist as he easily flies through the cityscape. the helicopter footage only shows so much, but it’s enough for you to see as the bullets narrowly miss his head and shoulders, red and blue blurs past your screen just slow enough to catch the spider emblem on his chest. whoever these criminals were, they had alarmingly good aim.

“see that, bee,” your grandpa mutters, “this damn spider-guy has been wreaking havoc all over the city! i mean look at the state of that street!”

“he’s lucky he hasn’t lost a limb with the way he’s throwing himself around,” your grandma adds, “do you see the way they’re shooting at him? he could be killed!”

you walk closer to the screen, kneeling down on your knees as your gaze follows your boyfriend. it had been six months since satoru confessed to you on the rooftop of your shared internship building. it was… nice, knowing that he trusted you enough to share his secret (even if you had to weasel it out of him). and since then, things have been a lot smoother between you two.

he was still busy, but you knew why now, making swift excuses for him on your nights out with friends. suguru teased you to no end, shoko finally let up on the drug addict allegations, and nanami was glad that he didn’t have to deal with the obvious tension between you two anymore. things were looking up, genuinely improving.

when he had the time, satoru would take you to his favorite parts of the city. the first time he actually had you in the air, you refused to even look at him until you landed on solid ground. he’d kiss your forehead and yell out stupid quips to you as you glided through the night, the familiar new york sounds making it hard to hear. “you aren’t scared, are you?” he’d tease. “those wings not working, honey bee?”

despite his incessant teasing, you trusted him to never let you fall. but recently your safety wasn’t what was on your mind. seeing him now, just barely avoiding death, it unnerves you.

the nightmares were gradual, kept at bay when satoru sneakily ended up in your bed at night. but when he wasn’t there (which was more often these days) you struggled to have a peaceful night's rest.

it was always the same visceral scene that your mind would conjure up:

you would be at home, like you are now, watching as spider-man battled the latest villain of the week. your body would go numb and your mouth would be dry as sandpaper. there would always be a buzzing in your ears, gentle when paired with the shrill sound of satoru’s screams; of him begging for help that would never come.

the air would smell of congealed blood and bile, you’d suddenly be out of your living room and crouched right next to him in crumbled concrete. he’d cry for you, plead for you to save him, but you could never stop the bleeding.

you’d wake and think you could still feel his nails digging into your forearms; the urge to scrub your hands raw is all consuming as they pulse with unseen blood.

you never wanted to talk to him about it, hovering over your cellphone with each strangled breath. fear was a powerful thing and you were afraid that if you spoke about what you saw, it would turn out to be true.

“satoru,” you breathe, watching as he stops the van with the force of his body and webs, holding the vehicle in place before it can ram into a sea of people in times square.

“your white-haired friend? don’t tell me he went out tonight,” your grandpa asks with worry, eyebrows furrowing as he goes to sit next to you on the ground.

your grandma follows suit, placing a gentle hand on your head and a kiss to your temple. they smell of home, comfort that you often seeked out since the night your parents died.

“i’m sure he’s fine, sweetie. he’s a smart boy, sharp as a tack! he can handle himself.”

she had no idea how right she was.

you imagine a powerful, strong body tangled in limited edition spider-man bedsheets. (satoru bought you a set despite them being too small for your bed.) you imagine soft breaths in your ear and the tickle of long pale fingers against your chest. you think of early mornings with blurry blue eyes and hurriedly grabbed coffee as you enter the internship building. they entangle you, situate themselves firmly in your chest so that even when he’s gone you will always have him near.

when you think of him this way, your fear suffocates you. you have to force your tears to stay put as you lean into the comforting shoulders of your grandparents, lean into the security they provide. “yeah,” you whisper, “i know he can.”

your grandmother was right, satoru could indeed handle himself. the chase ended at around two am and your grandparents retreated to their bedroom as things settled down in the city. the criminals were apprehended and spider-man was gone as quickly as he came.

you stare at the news reporter as they interview civilians on the scene. the general consensus this time was that he was a hero. he saved their lives and for that they were grateful. grateful enough to stand out in the rain just to sing his praises. you wonder if they would feel the same loss as you, if the mere thought of his death kept them up at night.

it’s a split second decision when you text him, when you realize that the only way to ease the ache in your chest was to feel him. see him. alive and breathing.

you: come over.

satoru: oh? right now? you miss me that much? ;)

you: satoru, please.

satoru: that bad? alright. no need to beg, beautiful. i’m on my way.

there’s a gentle knock on your bedroom window. it’s three am according to your digital pochacco alarm clock, but your body is as awake as it’s ever been.

you quickly shift off your bed to flip the latch, yanking the window up to reveal a familiar smirk patiently waiting for you on your fire escape. air fills your lungs as if you’d been drowning for weeks.

“hey there, pretty,” satoru murmurs, eagerly pressing a tender kiss to your lips. his mouth is cold and raindrops drip onto your windowsill, but you feel warm in this space.

you move back to make room for him to hop inside, noticing that there is no hint of red or blue under the collar of his black sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“hey there, handsome. was starting to think you weren’t gonna make it.”

satoru arrived later than expected. his hair is slightly damp from the rainwater which tells you that it was uncovered on his journey here. he must have changed clothes and opted to take the subway, laying low so that no one could find their way here by following him.

“and miss you in these extremely cute pjs?” his hands curve around your waist, travel down to the slope of your ass with a gentle squeeze. “i couldn’t possibly miss out on that…”

his voice trails off as you lock eyes, a curious look appearing on his face. at first, you think he’s confused but the look leaves as soon as it came. he pulls you in close and your hands press into his chest.

“does it matter? you’ll tear them off of me anyway.” you trail your hands downwards to grip his hips, slowly easing down to the ground on your knees. you feel the way your boyfriend tenses up from the attention.

“right, but typically that happens a little later, yeah? someone’s eager tonight.” he comments. you can hear the slight nervousness in his voice, but you don’t comment on it as you palm the slowly growing erection between his thighs.

“can a girl not miss her boyfriend?” you ask, freeing his impressive length as you situate his sweatpants and underwear under his balls. satoru hisses at the contact, a hand gently caressing your head.

“no, baby that’s not it i just— oh fuck!” you take him deep in your mouth without warning, your hand moving to grip the rest of his cock that you can’t fit. “i’m just w-worried about you. not that i don’t want this but y-you’re not usually this riled up— holy shit.”

your tongue drags against the underside of him, eyes glancing up to watch the way satoru tilts his head back in ecstasy. his hand grips your hair as you see a flash of light from the neon sign outside. it swallows him in a sea of red, and you swear that the gasp he lets out is suspiciously close to a final breath. blood. bright and thick blood floods your vision. it’s on his clothes, his skin, a gaping wound in his torso that just barely holds him together—

you jolt back, your head knocking against your bed as you try to create distance, eyes wide and blinking. satoru is startled for a moment before he sees the panic on your face. he quickly ducks down, hands hovering over your now shaking form. one glance down at his state of undress and he’s tucking himself away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“hey, hey,” he coos, “what’s wrong? did i hurt you? how do i make it better? do you want to stop? we can stop–”

you can’t help the sob that leaves your throat, despite your best efforts. you cover your mouth with both hands as to not alert your grandparents. the last thing you needed was for them to barge in here and see your best friend sketchily hovering over you.

although he seems alarmed, satoru doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms. he easily pulls you into his lap as you bury your face into his shoulder. weeks of anxiety and fear spill out of you at once, harsh and ugly cries leaving your lips. god, you felt ridiculous.

“you aren’t ridiculous,” he chastises. you realize you must have said that out loud. “we’ve known each other for years and the closest i’ve seen you get to crying is when you ate that ghost pepper with shoko.” you giggle at the memory, burying even further into his warm embrace.

satoru smells like the city, respectively; of rainwater and smog… but there’s a hint of familiarity there. underneath the haze is his soft laundry detergent and cologne. he is the pillar that grounds you and you cling to him like a child. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, feeling his palm caress your clothed back.

“don’t be. i don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want–“

“that’s not why i’m upset.” you interject, not enjoying the shift in the conversation. the last thing you wanted to do was make him believe sex was the problem. satoru pulls you in closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head. “i’ve been… having nightmares, recently. vivid as hell and i haven’t been sleeping well.”

he doesn’t speak at first, hand still rubbing your back to soothe you. your tears fall silently now, your throat heavy with the weight of your admission.

after a while, he sighs. “you always do this.”

you clear your throat and the weight lifts. “do what, exactly?”

“not tell me how you’re feeling! you’ve been this way for years, sure, but you’re my girlfriend now. the apple to my pie, the straw to my berry–!”

“gojo satoru.”

“i’m being serious. whatever scary thoughts you have, you can keep them from everyone else… but not from me. never from me.”

he pulls away so that your words are clearer; not muffled by the fabric of his clothes. “what’s been going on in the busy little head of yours, bee?”

now it’s your turn to sigh, fist clenching and then unclenching around his sweatshirt. you’re most comfortable in what you know, so you start there. “like i said, i’ve been having nightmares... about you. specifically, you dying in various horrific ways while i watch… unable to do anything.”

you feel satoru stiffen, but he recovers quickly. you decide to continue.

“it’s all science, really. conditioning! you being around relaxes me, but when you aren’t i can’t sleep. i just sit up all night wondering where you are and–“

“and if i’m dead.” his voice is plain when he speaks, but the gravity of the words are even harder to swallow when he says them; his own mortality held in the palm of his hands.

you inhale sharply through your nose, hold it in until your lungs burn, then release it. “yes,” you whisper, “if you’re dead.”

satoru is shockingly quiet, but you know he’s simply thinking. he breathes steadily, as if you had simply told him how your day was. you know your breaths are more erratic, that he is feeling for your heartbeat with every touch against your back.

“damn. i guess it’s a good thing i’m a superhero, then. some random bank robbers aren’t going to kill me.”

you scoff. “but the guns they have might.”

“i told you how my powers work, didn’t i? i can sense them before they can even think to hit me. i can feel everything around me all at once if i concentrate hard enough.“

“but what if they catch you off guard?”

satoru pulls away from you so that your eyes meet, his hand cups your cheek. “they won’t. they can’t.”

“baby—“

“listen to me, bee. i told you on that roof that i’d be safe. yeah, i take a few risks here and there but i’m always… mostly careful.”

you raise a brow.

“look, what i’m trying to say is that you don’t need to stress yourself out worrying about me. i don’t plan on leaving you behind anytime soon. plus, i think we still have a few movie marathons left in us.”

his thumb caresses the skin under your eye, tinted slightly darker from your lack of sleep. “well, maybe one more.”

you giggle, poking a finger into his side. “you’re such a pain in my ass.”

“but i’m yours, yeah?” he presses a kiss to your cheek, nose drifting across your skin. “you’re stuck with me.”

you smile, leaning into him again as his kisses trail even further up your face. your heart pounds in your chest as you hold him close. “yeah, and you’re stuck with me,” you reply, voice low and steady. “which means i can’t watch you die.”

“you won’t have to.” he murmurs against your hairline, his lips gentle against your skin. “i’m the strongest, remember?”

and you do remember, it would be hard not to. satoru has always been strong mentally, but the physical is all you can focus on now. even through the thick material of his sweatshirt, you can tell that he is anything but weak. you miss feeling powerless under him. you enjoy letting everything go when it’s him that makes your mind go blank.

“how could i not?” you respond, pulling away so that your palms travel down the front of his sweatshirt. “…unless, you want me to forget? focus on something else?”

he grins at your obvious teasing but a hand grips your wrist. “are you sure? i wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed again. i tend to have that effect on pretty girls.”

the way your other hand finds its way to his bare stomach is answer enough, but you still respond. “i’m sure you do, spider-boy… but if you can’t get it up again, i understa–”

you are pinned to your bed before you can fully blink, practically having flown in the air with the speed he’d moved you with. you can’t move, arms firmly pinned to your sides. satoru is looking down at you with an expression you recognize and you feel a throbbing between your legs.

“tell me if you want to stop, but let me just…” he reaches down to dip two fingers into your pajama shorts, letting out a stuttered breath at the wetness that begins to pool between your puffy slit. “there you are, beautiful. gettin’ nice and wet for me already. such a good girl.”

his fingers tease and rub against you, gathering your wetness and dragging it up to your swollen bud, rubbing it back and forth as you whimper and writhe against his strong hold. you can’t help the way you gasp, covering your mouth with your palms to muffle your scandalous sounds.

satoru is quick to take advantage of the way your hands are now preoccupied, using his own free hand to tug your breasts out of your flimsy tank top.

“fuck,” he growls, groping you brazenly and playing with the peaked nipples on your chest. his tongue is hot as he takes one in his mouth, his fingers now fucking into you with each suck of his long tongue.

your legs twitch as he starts to kiss downward, leaving your nipples slick and chilled from the night air. satoru is slow in the way he kisses every expanse of your skin, your pretty stomach and supple thighs, your soft feet and the backs of your knees. he travels down to your pelvis to watch as he thrusts inside your wet heat, slick against his hand and coating his fingers.

“so pretty,” he groans, “how could i ever leave you behind, huh?”

“satoru,” you moan, “please. i need you inside.”

he presses a kiss to your mound. “patience, beautiful. i promise i’ll give it all to you in time… just let me taste this perfect pussy first.”

the movement that follows is a quick whirlwind of fingers tugging off clothing, a determined look in satoru’s eyes as he folds you practically in half on the bed, forcing you into the position as if you were a mere toy, weighing nothing to him.

you nearly choke on the gasp that leaves your mouth as he latches onto your clit, hands firmly on the back of your thighs as he shoves his tongue deep inside your tight hole, drowning his moans in your cunt and lapping up your essence.

“oh my god,” you moan beneath your hand, the other moving to gain purchase on the bedsheets as he practically devours you. satoru is a man on a mission, his fingertips digging into your skin as his tongue penetrates deeper inside you until you’re shaking and writhing in the bed, begging to cum.

“yeah, pretty girl? you want me to make you cum on my tongue? want me to hold you in place so you can’t run away from me?”

you nod frantically, biting down on your lip so that your hand can bury in his hair. when you tug on it, you feel his hands grip even tighter, your voice sharp as you feel the sting of nails in your skin. the pain is welcomed as you cum in a sudden shuddered moan, feeling the coil in your stomach fully unravel as satoru reluctantly pulls away from your pussy.

his mouth is messy, his breathing ragged. you know from the look in his eyes that he is fraying at the seams, trying his best to not lose control.

“come–“ you pause and clear your throat ever so slightly, voice slightly scratchy. “come here.”

it is, once again, alarmingly quick how he slots his throbbing length between your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so that he can see all of you as he sinks inside with a slow, desperate stroke.

every inch of him feels like relief, your moans tangling into one another’s as he leans down to capture your lips in his. your cunt flexes hard around him, practically begging to be filled.

satoru is quick to grip your headboard, the other arm wrapped your waist to keep you close. he shuts his eyes in hopes to calm himself but you would be an idiot to ignore the sharp crunch of splitting wood above your head and the small bit of dust that floats in the air. there is now a large crack in your old headboard, traveling down the side and disappearing underneath your pillows.

satoru lets out what is a mixture of a groan and laugh. “oh, shit. sorry. guess i still have to get used to the whole super strength thing.”

“we can accept a casualty or two.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back to you. satoru is unrelenting as he moves in a blur of slamming hips and sweaty chests. you find yourself wanting to feel him closer. your fear that he could simply disappear has been eased but you need more.

you hook your legs around his ass to pull him in deeper, the sudden angle shift causing a choked cry to fall from his mouth. “what are you doing?” he hurries out.

“need to feel you, toru, make me forget. please.”

your pleas egg him on as satoru grits his teeth and meets your hungry gaze, lifting to pin you further into the bed as he thrusts harder and faster. the bed creaks underneath you but you find yourself uncaring, hoping the still turned on tv would drown out the noise. satoru desperately wants to make it better, wants you to feel safe and secure because you’re his. he had to protect himself so that he could protect you.

a shift in the air happens when tears start to trickle down your cheeks. at first, satoru is shocked as he watches the water drip and cover your pretty skin, but he soon realizes that the tears are not your own. his vision blurs as you lift a hand to cup his face. “i love you,” you whisper though your speak is warbled, “stay with me.”

“fuck, bee,” satoru scrambles to find purchase on his emotions but everything comes to the surface. he can’t help the way he blurts out—

“i love you, too. so much. i’m not going anywhere, baby. i promise.”

he leans his forehead against yours as you connect in a sea of ragged, damp moans and whimpers. the soft pattering of rain on your window is gentle when paired with the sharp sounds of you reaching your peak, hands holding on to satoru as if he’d disappear.

your orgasm is harsh and sudden, your limbs clenching as you bury your face into satoru’s strong shoulder. you try your best not to be loud, muffling your sounds as best as you can as your boyfriend’s name bubbles up in your throat. satoru, you whimper, satoru.

“so close,” he grunts, “bee i–i’m fuck—!”

satoru’s babbling is cut short as his own orgasm rips through him like a surge of energy, intense and all consuming as hot streaks of his cum flood your insides in white.

your boyfriend lets out two heavy breaths before he’s rolling you both in the bed, back against the sheets as you rest against his chest.

the movement cause his softening cock to slip out of you, and you whine at the sudden empty feeling.

“holy shit,” you both say in unison, giggles erupting from both of your throats.

“that was… a lot,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest. “but it was good. really good.”

“of course it was,” he says with a smirk, “you don’t keep me around for just my pretty face.”

you press a kiss to his chest. “no, i guess i don’t.”

satoru briefly wonders how much motivation he has to get up and head back to his place, knowing that in the morning your grandmother would come knocking with an offer of pancakes. still, he wants badly to—

“‘toru.” you murmur sleepily, fatigue finally catching up to you.

you feel a forehead press against yours as satoru responds with your name, your actual name. “it’s me.” he whispers. “i’m here.”

you hope he always will be.

“my grandparents don’t like spider-man all that much.”

he chuckles and twirls some of your hair around his finger. "they still like me though, right?"

a few seconds too long pass and satoru stops his toying with your hair. "…right?"

your snoring is the only reply he gets.

not going to explain anything important in this a/n bc yall never read them anyway, lmao. hope you enjoyed reading! thanks for the support on my new account since my last one got flagged.

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk smut #angelshubnetwork

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mondaymelon · 5 months

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₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)

⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]

— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.

Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.

Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.

A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"

Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?

"-won't..."

Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?

He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"

"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.

"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"

His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.

It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"

His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.

"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.

A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.

Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.

Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.

"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"

Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."

"Y-Yes, ludex?"

"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."

The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.

"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."

And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.

A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.

You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.

"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."

"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.

It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.

Ah, that was it.

His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.

Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.

Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.

There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.

"...Wh...Where am I?"

That. That voice.

Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.

"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?

"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?

"Ah, then about that question-"

"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #obsessive johnny #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish

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satoruluvies · 9 days

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pretty privilege

jjk boys when they get pretty privilege right in front of you.

includes: yuji, megumi, yuta, toge and ino

yuji: yuji is super kind and humble, also a bit oblivious when it comes to people treating him extra well or flirting with him. someone could ask him for his number and he'd probably assume this was a normal occurence because how else will you make friends without having their number at the very least right? however he isn't slow to realise that he alone was the one being approached, warmed up to and even being offered discounts for simple things and not you. he'd notice the way you'd look away and try distracting yourself while he was busy with yet another girl coming up to him. next time he promises himself not to entertain other people and politely decline them, focusing on telling you how much you mean to him instead.

megumi: megumi isn't stupid, he notices the little frown that would find itself on your pretty lips (you say otherwise but megumi thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen) whenever someone, yet again, comes up to him with a slightly bigger smile asking him for directions and some as far as asking him to walk them to their destination. he'd decline everytime though, of course he would. why would he entertain other people when you're right there? don't get me wrong he isn't rude, he'd show them the directions but not without pulling you closer or holding your hand a little tighter.

yuta: he'd stutter and badly too. sometimes even wanting to hide behind you when he's completely at a loss for words as the waitress offers him an extra plate of food on the house, strangely only for him. on days when he's a little bolder though, he'd accept the free gifts with a thanks and hand them to you. he'd be confused why he's being offered goodies and never you and upon explaining to him, he'd sheepishly try replicating the treatment he got saying something like “if they treat the people they find pretty like that then it's only right for me to treat you like that too, because i think you're very pretty.”

toge: we all know toge doesn't speak because of his cursed speech but his eyes do all the talking. his gaze becomes a little softer on seeing you looking down at your feet waiting for whoever approached him to go away. he isn't really registering what the other person says, his focus being all on you when suddenly he finds a phone being handed to him, the number tab open for him to put in his. he'd hold out his hand, shaking his head and point to you, pulling you closer and zipping down his jacket revealing his pretty marked mouth to place a kiss on your lips. on seeing your surprised expression his eyes turn into pretty cresents as he mutters “salmon roe” and somehow you understand everything he wants to convey to you.

ino: ino would nudge you in triumph with a smirk as the barista offers him his coffee on the house but he doesn't fail to notice the way your smile faltered a little upon hearing the offer. he'd then decline politely but when the barista insists, he pulls you closer and tells them that he comes in a pair so it's either they give you free coffee too or he pays for the both of you. and pay, he does. with your order in hand, the both of you walk out of the cafe as he brags about how pretty he is but also about how lucky he is to have someone prettier, that someone being you of course.

included ino this time bc he's growing on me !!

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fuckingstrange · 3 months

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Actually begging on my hands and knees that the writers don't push the Jeid shit if MGG returns as Spencer for criminal minds

Let's revisit the Bisexual Spencer thing or something instead PLEASE😭??

#I'm sorry i dont like Jeid😭#it's just not good bro #strange speaks (stutters) !#spencer reid #my lovely man

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luveline · 6 days

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would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3

ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k

cw suggestive content

“Is that okay?” he whispers.

You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy.

Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh.

He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt.

Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine.

He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head.

“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.”

“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret.

“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs.

You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen.

You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands.

There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops.

“I really am sorry, Pete.”

His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.”

“What? What are you talking about? I started it.”

“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”

“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it.

“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.”

“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.”

“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.”

“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.”

You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then.

“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.”

“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.”

“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh.

“From that statue on ESU?”

“What? How would I do that?”

“Get Spider-Man to help you.”

You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?”

“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.”

You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?”

Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.”

“I’ll try not to, Pete.”

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narcissistshandler · 2 months

Note

Isagi yoichi & dumbfication!!! I just need to turn this man in a dumb whore for dick (top!male reader)

𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗕 𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗕 𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗕

pairing. male reader x isagi yoichi

warnings. amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!isagi, anal sex, bondage, dumbfication, humiliation, crying, overstimulation, squirt, ahegao, cumming inside, a lot of 'petnames' (doll, baby, whore, slut, stupid, boytoy), (+bonus: Isagi has a small penis)

a/n. dumbfication is just 😩🤌 (and as you guys can see I'm still very creative with titles) and this is unedited

Isagi was easily the most beautiful thing in the world when beneath you, pliable under your hands, completely limp and unable to put up a fight even if he wanted. A life-size inflatable doll for you to play with.

He was usually talkative even in bed, telling you to hurry up while interrupting himself to comment on how strange it felt to be penetrated and how he could never get used to the feeling of having something inside him. All the talk, however, immediately died on his tongue when you slid in, slowly, so that he could feel every inch of you causing a burning sensation as it stretched his only briefly prepared hole.

It felt like a routine, pride making him unable to admit how much he truly loved it and then, the sensual curve of his back leaving the mattress as you reached the bottom, completely engulfed in the heat of the tight walls. The words became stutters and soon, it was as if all of Isagi's rationality had disappeared, only leaving him with erotic moans and whimpers that reminded you a lot of an animal in heat.

“Ughh- aah~” Isagi's mouth hung open, allowing the pink tongue to hang out over his bottom lip. Saliva ran down his chin and he seemed lost in his own world as his lean, flexible body was used by you. He was beautiful like that, no thought in mind other than how unbearable the pressure felt inside him, the pounding in his hole reaching so deep that you just knew he could feel you rearranging his insides.

His hands were stretched over his head, the blue rope the same shade as his teary eyes keeping them tied to the headboard. Before forgetting how to speak, he had begged you to let go and let him touch you and touch himself — 'you know I can't cum without touching my dick,' he had argued.

But now, Isagi's cock drooled against his stomach, semen from his three untouched orgasms drying there countering that.

The memory of his words amused you. “For someone who said that could only cum if he touched his own dick, you look completely ridiculous right now,” you can’t help but mock your boyfriend, reduced to a sensitive, overstimulated mess in mere minutes. “A liar, that's what you are Yoichi. A liar and a whore for dick.” You punctuated your last words with deep, sharp thrusts, delighting in the wet sound Isagi's hole made whenever your cock sank into him and how his entire body convulsed as if he'd been shocked.

Isagi's blue eyes seemed unfocused and when all that responded back to you was a strangled, stuttered, "p-pl-ea- aawn... -se," you couldn't help but laugh, feeling your cock twitch inside from Isagi at how pathetic he sounded, just to you.

“It’s okay, don’t talk, you don’t need to talk,” you said, calming his shameful attempts at forming words. Your tone, however, is sadistic and amusing, full of mockery. “You just have to stand there and let yourself be used, that's what you're good at, isn't it? To be my fuck toy, my fleshlight? And I don’t even need to touch that useless little dick of yours to make you cum, just fuck your ass, like the good slut you are.”

Your words found a target and Isagi could only nod, gratefully accepting the permission to not need to think or try to speak. He just needed to be your dumb little slut, nothing more.

Adorable, really.

Isagi was always thinking a lot during matches, his mind was always racing a mile a minute, studying the field, his opponents and forming strategies. But now he didn't need to do anything, nothing at all. Nothing was all you wanted from him, how ironic.

Isagi whimpered, sweet hole clenching around your cock and you immediately recognized the tension coursing through his firm legs and toes curling in the most erotic way in the world. Your hips reacted on their own, darting in and out of the hot, wet tightness. “Your hole is squeezing me so much, do you want to cum for me again, doll? Come on, let go. Show me how good you can be to me, coming just for a few dirty words.”

And like the ridiculous and obedient little thing he is, Isagi obeys. The orgasm comes like a wave, fast, unpredictable and crashing against him with surprising force. There is no slow build or sensations building to the breaking point. One second Isagi is drooling over himself and making shameful attempts to meet your thrusts and the next, tears are streaming down his flushed, sweaty face, a violent tremor making his whole body convulse and his little pink dick jumps, twitches and expels a stream of clear, odorless liquid that seems like it will never end.

The bed quickly becomes wet beneath him and the crying grows louder as the embarrassment seems to set in. Isagi moves from side to side, pulling on the rope that keeps his hands tied as he seems to try to escape the stimulation. It's a vain attempt, he looks so pornographic that all you can do is grab his ass, forcing him to remain lying on his side in the new position while you fuck him mercilessly, fingers grabbing the soft, pale flesh; pulling to allow you to see the little hole greedily swallowing your cock.

“That’s it, toyboy, let go,” you speak through gritted teeth, breathing quickening as you feel your own orgasm quickly approaching at the glipse of isagi’s lewd expression: blue eyes beautifully rolled back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Nothing wrong with making a mess like the stupid little thing you are, wetting the whole bed.”

Isagi opened and closed his mouth several times, tears and drool wetting his pretty face as he struggled to speak through the moans: “ah- I-I... c-cum...”

“What is this, baby? Do you want me to cum in you? Want me to fill your dirty hole?”

His body had already stopped obeying his will and all he could do was moan in response, trying unsuccessfully to communicate.

And what kind of boyfriend would you be if you denied him that?

You sped up, sweat prickling against your bare skin and heat seeming to eat you raw, your heavy breathing covered by the sounds Isagi made. It felt like fire licking his veins; you could feel your pulse racing in your dick, pleasure hitting you as your member pulsed and spilled deep inside Isagi.

“Agh! Ahh!” A broken scream died in Isagi's mouth as heat fill his insides. The possessive complaint made a muscle in his thigh pull, more liquid joining the mess on the bed.

You lean over him, searching for his mouth. The teeth clack together briefly before your tongues meet in a filthy, messy kiss. You swallow the saliva, salty tears and Isagi's moans, nails digging into his skinny ass as you continue to move in and out of him, riding out your orgasm and brutally fucking your cum deep into him, wanting to force him to accept every drop, wanting permanently leave the mark of your belonging on his body. You wished that afterwards, even after take a bath, Isagi could still feel the phantom sensation of your seed inside him, filling him and marking him as your dumb little whore.

How much better would it be if Isagi gave up his football career and lived just for that, to be used 24/7.

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Note

I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!

Her Voice

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?

Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"

Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.

Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.

"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"

"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"

"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.

"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.

"True enough that it whispers through the court"

"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.

"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"

Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.

"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"

Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"

"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.

"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.

A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.

"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.

Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.

"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"

Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"

"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"

With a sigh, he took his leave.

There was no harm in trying.

The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.

But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.

It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.

On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.

"I heard his dragon almost ate her"

"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"

"I think he looks rather handsome with it"

"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"

"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"

"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"

He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.

Like oily blood.

He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.

Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.

The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.

The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.

"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.

"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.

"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"

There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.

Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"

The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"

The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.

The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.

Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.

"Your Grace, my youngest"

Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.

"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"

All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.

It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"

Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"

The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.

"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"

She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.

"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"

A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.

"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"

With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.

His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.

"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"

"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"

All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.

With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.

It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.

You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.

The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.

It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.

It reminded you of who you were.

Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.

You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.

The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.

You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.

"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"

The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.

He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,

"Ah, so it was you"

You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.

He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"

He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.

"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.

Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.

"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"

His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.

He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.

"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.

He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.

Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.

You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.

I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.

Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.

"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.

You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.

He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.

I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.

Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.

The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.

"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.

There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.

"You are not entirely mute, are you"

You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.

It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.

Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"

At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.

It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.

"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.

Do you read?

He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.

"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.

You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.

But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.

"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"

You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.

Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.

"And books, it seems"

You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.

He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.

You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.

"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.

He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.

"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.

But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.

"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"

"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"

"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.

The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.

"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.

"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.

You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.

You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.

You scribbled down.

Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.

"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.

You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.

"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.

You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.

"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.

Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.

At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.

Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.

He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.

A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.

"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.

Thank you.

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islesnucks · 2 months

Text

𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓵 - Mathew Barzal x Reader

Summary: what started as an accidentall voicemial to your ex boyfriend ended up becoming routine and maybe even more TW: none that i can think of

Word count: 3.9k A/N: completely made up game schedule btw

Masterlist Add yoruself to the taglist if you wanna be notified when i post the fic!

“Hey, it’s Mat.” His voice echoed through the phone, so familiar yet strangely distant now. You’d heard him speak in interviews, but this was different. He was addressing you, or at least the voicemail version of you. “I can’t answer right now, so you know what to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Calling your ex-boyfriend, the one you had broken up with months ago, wasn’t something you had exactly planned. Yet, when the acceptance email for the program you had worked tirelessly for arrived, the one he had witnessed you pour your heart into, he was the person you wanted to share it with. So that’s what you were doing, trying no to overthink it before nerves got the best of you.

“Mat, hi. This is so random—H-how are you?” Thank God he didn’t answer, you were a stuttering mess leaving a voicemail imagine if it had been him on the other end instead. “I got in! Into the program I mean. I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell you. You helped me so much before—” you cut yourself again. It didn’t feel right to mention the break up like that, but what could you say? Before I broke up with you? Before I stumbled out of your apartment leaving you behind without an explanation?

“Fuck it. I can’t do this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear and touched the red dot.

That’s it. He didn’t need to know, he probably wouldn’t even care. Who would want their ex to call to tell them they were doing great? That maybe after all the breakup was worth it because they had gotten into the program they had neglected their relationship for? Too long, right?

A second later, realization struck like lightning – you had ended the call before deleting the voicemail. It had been sent.

“Oh no, no, no!” you exclaimed, eyes widening in horror. There was no turning back. Mat would undoubtedly hear you stumbling over your words. Why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone? The last thing he needed was you barging back into his life with a pathetic voicemail about something he likely moved on from. ‘He probably already despises me after how everything unfolded, and now this’ you thought.

You were wrong, because no longer than 5 minutes after everything had gone down your phone was buzzing in your hand, Mat’s contact bright in the center as he now waited for you to pick up for a change.

“Mat.” you picked up.

“Hey. You called me?” He sounded confused, for very obvious reasons. Nevertheless it was nice to hear his voice now directed at you.

“Yeah, right. I left you a voicemail.” You rolled your eyes. At least you sounded less nervous than earlier on the voicemail, but it was not less embarrassing.

Mat’s voice came through, cool and collected. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t check. I just saw the missed call and, you know.”

“Sure, sure.” you replied, trying to sound half as calm as he seemed to be with the whole situation.

“Do you want me to hear it or …” his offer hovered in the air.

“No! I mean, I can tell you.” You cringed at the thought of him hearing your rambling voicemail. “So, I called because I just got the mail. I got into the program!”

“Shut up! That’s great! Congratulations!” Mat’s excitement burst through the line. Your heart melted a little. After everything that had happened he sounded genuinely happy for you.

“Thank you, Maty.”

Mat’s tone softened. “You deserve it, after all the hard work you put into it. I knew you’d get it.”

You chuckled, the tension easing. “I know, I know. You told me like a million times. I was just insecure.”

For a second you let yourself imagine this was under other circumstances. You were still together and he was calling you right after practice or from another city in one of his roadies. He’d come back home eventually and hug you so tight you wouldn’t be able to breath, probably lift you up and spin you around a little. You wouldn’t be able to stop laughing and-

“I know …” Mat’s response brought you back to reality. The reality in which he wouldn’t knock on your door with his arms wide open.

His tone carried an easy understanding. He definitely knew about your insecurities. They played a huge role on why your relationship was the way it was right now: nonexistent.

“So that’s what the voicemail said?” He broke the silence.

“Yeah, basically. But you know, all giddy and stuff. Really embarrassing.”

Mat’s laughter grew louder, and you could practically see him shaking his head. “Oh, really? Well, now I have to hear it.”

“No, no, no.” you protested, your embarrassment deepening. “Seriously, don’t Barzal. I know where you live.”

But Mat insisted, his curiosity piqued. “Come on! Embrace the cringe. It can’t be that bad.”

He ended the call before you could object anymore, only to call you back a minute later. Mat’s laughter erupted again as soon as you picked up, and you couldn’t help but join in, the shared humor dissipating the lingering awkwardness. If you closed your eyes you could almost picture him with that scrunched up nose as he laughed.

“The ‘fuck it, i can’t do this’ was the best part by far.”

The familiar buzz of the MSG postgame show filled the cozy confines of your living room as Mat’s name flashed brightly on your phone, catching you off guard. Shannon and Hickey were in full praise mode, replaying Mat’s epic goal on loop, and there he was, the main attraction, waiting on the other end of the line for you to pick up.

You fumbled for your phone, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips as you swiped to answer. “Hey, I didn’t expect your call.” you remarked, the commentator’s voices still ringing in your ears.

“Bad timing?” Mat’s voice crackled through the phone, a hint of breathlessness underscoring his words – probably still riding the adrenaline high from the ice.

“No, no. It’s just that a second ago you were on my screen falling all over the ice.” you teased, imagining his less-than-graceful moments on the rink.

“I don’t fall that much!” he argued, sounding mildly offended.

“You do, but you also score, so it’s forgiven. Congrats on your almost hatty, by the way.” You chuckled, knowing how much he loathed falling a goal short. Always so hard on himself.

Mat scoffed, clearly annoyed at missing the mark. “So, you watched tonight?”

“Obviously, I watch every game I can catch.” you replied, the excitement of the game still coursing through your veins. The thrill of watching Mat succeed, even from a distance, even after all that happened, was undeniable.

“You should come, you know. I’m sure the girls would love to see you.” Mat suggested, his voice tinged with a hint of longing.

“I don’t know, Mat. It’s not my place anymore.” you hesitated, letting the uncertainty hang in the air. You had to change the subject before your mind started spiraling. “Anyway, why did you call?”

“Oh, right. I listened to your voicemail again!”

“So you called to tell me you haven’t actually deleted it like you promised?”

“I heard it right before the game and got 2 goals and 2 assists. I think it’ll become my new pregame ritual, honestly.” Mat admitted, his voice softer now, laced with a hint of nostalgia. Why had he chosen to hear it? That’s something he would save for himself for now. The shared memories of your past flitted between you, unspoken but palpable.

“Really? Want me to send embarrassing voicemails before every game?”

“I’d love it. Yes, please.” Mat replied with a laugh, the warmth of his laughter washing over you like a comforting embrace. The playful banter held a certain intimacy, a bridge between past flames and the uncharted territory of what lay ahead.

The banter flowed seamlessly, a blend of shared history and the current moment. The familiarity was comforting, but the unspoken complexities of your past lingered in the air, a delicate tension.

NYI vs. TBL - November 5th

“Hey, Barzy. I don’t know if you were joking or not but here’s your pregame embarrassing voicemail as solicited. You weren’t serious, right? Well fuck it, enjoy it or ignore me whatever.”

NYI vs. CGY - November 7th

“Just walked past that coffee shop where we had our third or fourth date I think. Remember how you choked over your latte when I lied and said I loved the Rangers?”

NYI vs. SEA - November 9th

“Hey, you won’t believe who I just saw. That guy that lives in the building across the street, the one that has your face tattooed on his left arm. He asked about you, told me to wish you good luck. So good luck from him … and from me. Good luck tonight.”

NYI vs. VAN - November 11th

“Hi! Your sister told me your family is going tonight, so send them a kiss from me, ok? … I-I keep in touch with her, I don’t know if you knew that or like maybe I should’ve told you? Are you ok with that? I’m sorry I just assumed you would be. Anyway, good luck! Say hi from me! Or don’t if you don’t want to-”

NYI vs. NYR - November 16th

“Dude. Rangers tonight. Don’t mess it up. May have bet on you guys with a guy from work, I don’t wanna have to pay for his lunch tomorrow. Please. Good luck, 13.”

NYI vs. PIT - November 18th

“Shit, shit, shit. Hope you can hear this before the game. I’m still getting used to the program’s schedule and all of that, I’m kind of a mess right now. Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. DET - November 20th

“Maty, hi! I know this is kind of dumb because I saw you like 10 minutes ago and I’m in the building but still thought I should leave the voicemail just in case. (Come on!) Ok I have to go, Sydney has a tone of gossip to catch me up on. Good luck!”

NYI vs. DAL - November 23th

“Hello Mr Barzal, I won’t be able to watch tonight, but still good luck! Even if you don’t win, I hope you score a goal, make an assist. That 8 game point streak you have going on is insane. I think I’ll start charging you for this if they are working so well.Good luck Barzy!”

NYI vs. STL - November 26th

“Hey! First of all, good luck! Second, I left my scarf at the Lee’s last night. It’s red, I was wearing it when you picked me up. Grace said Anders would give it to you tonight. Maybe we can meet for coffee tomorrow so you can give it back? Anyway, good luck!”

NYI vs. CHI - November 28th

“13, hello! I don’t have anything funny to tell you today so just good luck! Love you- shit, sorry. Habit I guess. Bye.”

NYI vs. NYR - November 30th

“You have zero new voicemails. To record a new personal greeting press one-”

You tried everything to get your mind off it, but it wasn’t working. The cup of tea was now cold in your hand and you couldn’t even pretend to care what was going on in the movie you had playing on your tv. The game had ended an hour ago but it was on replay in your mind.

It was silly to think it was your fault. You couldn’t influence the score of the match, the 5-1 loss against the Rangers wasn’t on you. However the outcome would’ve been different if their starplayer hadn’t been taking stupid penalties, losing the puck, causing turnovers. That could be on you partially.

The bell ringing caught you by surprise, almost dropping the cold tea. You got up to answer, even though you had a feeling you knew who was waiting by your building’s door.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” The familiar voice needed no introduction.

“Mat? What are you doing here?”

“Buzz me in.” he requests, and you could practically hear the determination in his tone. With a resigned sigh, you pressed the buzzer, knowing full well he wouldn’t leave until he got what he came for.

A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door, and you found yourself face to face with him. Determination was bright in his eyes, your heart started racing.

“What’s going on?” He rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed by your attempt at pretending not to know why he’s there.

“You didn’t leave a voicemail.” Mat strided in without waiting for an invitation, and the unspoken tension was palpable.

“Right, that. I guess I forgot. Sorry.” you lied, trying to sound convincing but knowing there’s no use, he’d know. You closed the door behind him almost instinctively, as if shutting out the forthcoming emotional storm that’s about to break in your apartment.

“You’ve been sending me a voicemail before every single game for the past month.” he remarked, his gaze keenly picking up on your avoidance. Frustration started to take over. He already had been in this position before, begging you for explanations and all you did was look away. “Please, don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“I got confused, okay? Why are we doing this? I’m your ex-girlfriend, I broke up with you, Mat. And now I’m going to your games and sending you voicemails every game? What even is this?”

At some point you started walking all over the living room, the distress was clear. Mat was better at hiding it, he stood still by the door like he had been since he walked in, but you could see his hands fidgeting. Neither of you had a clear head to take on what was about to come, chaos was inevitable.

“I don’t know, but I thought you liked this. I thought it was like an inside joke, our own thing.”

“It was that. But you’re not supposed to have that with your ex.” you said, trying to emphasize the last word for him, as if a reminder of your status would help the situation in any way.

“We’re friends?” He furrowed his brows, and, had it not been for the situation you were in, you would’ve laughed at the way even he sounded so unsure of what he was saying.

“Mat, come on. It’s confusing, I know I was getting confused. It started with the voicemails, which was already something, but then we’re talking every day, I’m going to your games again and team’s gatherings, we’re hanging out again. I said ‘I love you’ on my last one!” You finally looked at him, baring it all. There was only one solution in your mind and it had to be taken no matter the pain it would undoubtedly cost you. “I think it’s better if we stop.”

There was a moment of silence, he looked at you as if trying to read through the wall you were hiding behind. Trying to decipher if it was you speaking or your insecurities had taken over again. Most importantly, trying to figure out if this time he had what it took to get to you before he lost you.

“I don’t want it to stop.” he said, determination clear in his voice. In a second he closed the gap between you. The proximity caught you off guard, you couldn’t remember the last time you were this close. “Tell me you don’t feel anything.” It sounded almost like a beg, but he didn’t care.

“We broke up.” you insisted, trying to sound all resolute.

“You broke up with me.” he corrected you, his gaze holding steady, slicing through your defenses.

“We weren’t working, Mat! We could barely see each other, and when we did, we were too tired or stressed. We fought a lot. We broke up.” It sounded almost childish the way you stubbornly persisted on it, like you needed to reassure yourself more than him how things had played out last time.

“Couples fight sometimes; it’s normal. I was stressed about the playoffs, and you were stressed about getting into the program. It was a bad moment, yes, but that’s over.”

“Other problems are gonna come up.”

“We can face them together, we fight and make up. That’s it, that’s how couples work.”

You paused for a second, it made no sense to keep on repeating yourself. It seemed like he had a solution for every obstacle you presented. He had come here for answers, it was time to give them to him even if you were answering older already forgotten questions.

“I was scared, Mat. I was scared and insecure, and it felt like I was ruining it all.” Tears start rolling down your face and there’s nothing he wants more than to hug you, keep you close to his chest, push the pain away; but he knows he shouldn’t. You’re finally letting down your guard, telling him what he’s been dying to hear for months; he has to give you space to be vulnerable. “I thought it was better to break things up before they got really nasty.” your voice wobbled.

“I get it, I really do. But you could’ve told me and I should’ve been more present, not left you alone to deal with our problems. We could’ve tried to make it work. ” He looked deep into your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of understanding and unwavering love. “I know I loved you more than enough to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about how I ended things, and I’m sorry about the voicemail and all the mess I’ve caused.” You tried to walk away from him, the proximity being too much, but he caught your arm making you face him once again.

Tears started streaming down his face as you tried to grapple with the weight of your own decisions. He looked you in the eyes, the determination from earlier is still there, even behind the tears those glossy eyes told you he wasn’t gonna leave in silence like last time. This time he had to leave it all out, even if he ended up hurt in the process.

“When you first called me I was too nervous to answer so I let it go to voicemail. I think even then I knew it wasn’t over for me, I knew hearing your voice would bring it all back.” You winced, acutely aware of the emotional turmoil you’ve caused. What you didn’t know was he wasn’t worried about pain coming back; what worried him was all the love he had for you and had pushed away after the break up coming back and once again not having where to put it.

“But then I wanted to hear you, the real you, not the voicemail, so I called you. I cannot tell you how happy it made me to hear you, like my heart was beating again after months of numbness. And you were telling me this great news, when you got that acceptance letter you wanted to tell me.” he continued, and you released a heavy breath, a half-smile forming on your face. He was right, the first person you wanted to share your triumph with was him, you hadn’t thought much about it back then but no it was so clear.

“I replayed your voicemail before the game that first time because I wanted to hear your voice. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I heard you over the phone earlier that day, and all I wanted was to hear you again talking to me.” he confessed, a mixture of vulnerability and longing in his words. “At first I thought maybe I was making it up, you know? Maybe it was just my unresolved feelings, maybe there was nothing going on. But you called me first and then you kept on sending the voicemails. Things were going back to the way they were before. It felt like I was me again, like we were us again.”

Mat smiled thinking how everyone could notice; his friends, his teammates, his family, everyone could see the old Mat was back. He told them off, too afraid to consider you were all he was missing because he knew he didn’t have you back, not yet.

His hand gently cupped your face, sending a shiver down your spine. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch. You missed it, there was no denying it anymore. You missed it all too much—his touch, his voice, his energy, his very presence. Him.

“You said ‘I love you’ on the last voicemail. I replayed it like 20 times at least, just to hear those three words. From you, to me.” The weight of those three words hung in the air between the two of you after so long, it was electrifying. Your heart raced; he was about to say it, and you yearned to hear it.

“I love you.” he declared, and there was no ambiguity this time. It wasn’t a recall of your words; this time, it was his confession to you.

“Maty…” was all you managed to say; his nickname laden with tenderness and echoes of old fears that still lingered.

“I want this. I want you even if I can only see you two times a week and even if half that time you are studying or working or stressing over both. I want to be there with you. I want to fight and make up. I want all of it, the messy and ugly included.”

“I love you.” you finally whispered.

It was over. He loved you, you loved him, and there was nothing left to say.

In that breath-holding moment, he leaned down, his lips finally touching yours. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a wild ride through forgiveness, longing, and the silent agreement to dive back into the messy and the beautiful, hand in hand. He was smiling into the kiss, so were you. The taste of salt from their tears lingered, mingling with the sweetness of the moment. The kiss spoke of second chances and the magic of beginnings, a promise to rewrite the story that had once unraveled.

You pulled away, breathless and teary-eyed, yet a radiant joy painted across your faces. You laughed, a melody of relief and newfound hope. One of his hands was on your back as the other traveled from your face to the back of your head, pulling you against his chest. Your arms hugged his torso tight.

“I love you.” he mumbled against your head before placing a kiss on top.

NYI vs. MTL - December 1st

“Hey! Good luck tonight babe-”

“I don’t think it counts if I’m literally next to you when you record it.”

“Shush. Who’s the voicemail expert here? Me. Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted me: good luck tonight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

soooooo it’s here! hope you like it! like and reblogs are always appreciated!

it felt so good to write again and to share it too, hope i have more time this year to write more stuff

taglist:

@glassdanse @2manytabsopen @barbienoturbby @sweetlittlegingy @mcsteamylove98 @ttylfedora @chieflawyerpastatoad @iwantahockeyhimbo @fallinallincurls @jordiee95 @heatherawoowoo @barzysreputation @farabeezers @4ambagelbites @matwith1t @audryaho @maximoff-xmen @astrydis @joelsfarabees @bitchforbarzy @deloughrey @brias1201 @besthockeyfics @ya-pucking-nerd @hoiyheadharpies @mckenna4 @rosesvioletshardy @hockeyunits @siriusly-parker @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @boqvistsbabe @theycallmecassie @ephemeral371 @hal3ynicol3 @angelblooddevil @besthockeyfics @beauvertime @picked-off-by-barzal @1316 @cherrygirl1229 @lunabean @random-readers-world @poufsouffle21 @barzysbaby @matbarzal13 @alwaysclassyeagle @wanbach23 @evaggreendaily

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charmercharm3r · 8 months

Text

Make Love, Not Porn

Heat Signature

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

wc: 5.9k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, barista!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, masturbation (m, f), teasing, cum eating, (slight) orgasm denial, (also -ish) voyeurism, (not a warning but) open conversations about sex, he’s a little shit but also just a fanboy

Past Broadcasts : Play Time!

Live : Heat Signature

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Puppeteer

☆ﾟ

He waited for you.

He waited and waited and waited, for days until he’d finally given up hope that you were going to show face again.

Hyunjin wasn’t even sure you were from the area. For all he knew, you lived a few hours plane ride away. There was no way for him to know.

He’d thought about you every day since, watched every stream and used most of his tips and paycheck to tip you so that you’d remember who he was. It worked, whenever the dinging noise from other patrons tipping died down, there was a moment where he’d rapid fire click the button and you’d know, it was him.

The day after seeing you in person, Hyunjin barely had the mind to put your image down onto paper to immortalize. His minor hobby in doodling came in handy when there was downtime during his shift at the coffee shop. There was an unlimited supply of blank coffee cup sleeves and markers, enough room for his artistic freedom to run wild with images of you and your pretty hands, heavenly voice that he’s been encapsulated with ever since.

Hyunjin kept his doodles in his apron pocket with him at all times. If anyone were to ever see them he swears he’d burst into flames out of embarrassment. How is he stumbling beneath his own feet over someone he’s met once?

But it doesn’t feel like you’ve only met once, he feels like he’s known you for a lifetime. The way you spoke during your cams, you were speaking to him. You had to be. You had to have seen him.

The voice in his head had Hyunjin summing up your absence to the fact that you were simply too busy for coffee. Yeah, that was what he chose to believe, definitely not the fact that he was acting literally insane and scared you into never setting foot in their store ever again.

The universe was listening to him, today of all days. Another early morning and he hadn’t even noticed you walk in at first, after two weeks he’d given up on hoping you’d come back. Imagine his surprise when he’s put on the register and sees you walk up to the counter.

“Ice– iced chai and three blonde shots, right?”

You were taken aback, you’d hadn’t been here in a while, two weeks to be exact. What was this cute, strange barista doing memorizing your order? And why is he looking at you like he’s picturing you naked?

“Yeah,” you replied slowly, narrowing your gaze at his pretty features.

He really was weird, his hands were shaking as he input your order, as he took your card and handed it back. When he was done ringing you up, he didn’t hand you the receipt but rather stared at you again. “Are you okay…” you glanced at his name tag, “Hyunjin?”

Oh, his cock twitched.

Be fucking normal. She’s just a person, for fucks sake. Stop being a weirdo. God, you’re embarrassing.

“Y— yeah! It’s just…” Hyunjin’s heart sped up. This was his opportunity to ask you out, compliment you… But instead he asks, “can I have a name for the order?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. For a second your heart stopped thinking that he had recognized you… Again, impossible, you had been too careful to let anything slip.

“You know my order but not my name?” A dry laugh and awkward but relaxed shrug, you tell him your name and the barista lets out a little inaudible stutter, a small smile spreading across your lips at his endearing reaction,

His head raised to meet your gaze again, “it’ll be out in a minute, pretty.”

Ballsy. Fucking ballsy. You have the most massive pair ever. Wait, she smiled… She smiled?? She’s still smiling? Oh, she’s walking away… I think that worked?

Why were you smiling? And why was your tummy fluttering? A cute barista complimenting you? That was nothing in comparison to the millions of adoring words you receive through your social media and live streams. So why was he any different? Stop smiling, you look stupid.

It really only took a minute, true to Hyunjin’s words. You didn’t expect him to be the one holding your drink at the pick up counter, the way your name rolling off his tongue making your adrenaline rush.

What you didn’t see was him forcing his closest coworker to stand on register so he could be the one to make your drink. The finishing touch was the real kicker. Though it was a cold drink, Hyunjin fished out one of the doodled cup sleeves, the best one he’d drawn, and shyly wrote on the side of it before slipping it on and calling your name. He tried to hide his excitement and nervousness by trilling his voice a little more sing-song to get your attention.

You walked a little too fast towards the black haired barista, catching yourself and slowing as you came closer. He had a smirk that made your knees wobble just a tad bit before he held the drink out for you. Both your eyes met as you grazed his fingertips to pass over the cup, a shot of warmth shooting up your arm with a tingle as he lingered.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“My pleasure, Y/N.”

Just the way he said your name made you want to fold in half. Maybe let him fold you in half. Definitely let him fold you in half.

You hadn’t taken a sip of the drink until you got home, too giddy the entire walk to do anything but clutch it in your hands. But when you did sip on it, you verbally let out a, “mmm!” to no one but yourself.

Hours had gone by of you doing your regular chores and such that you do on your off days. Dirty clothes in the laundry, groceries were put away, now would be a good time to prepare dinner. You had just tossed the now empty to go cup in the trash when the smeared ink on the cardboard cup sleeve caught your eye. You had to dig it out of the trash, but it didn’t seem much out of order other than the wet marks from the earlier drink’s condensation.

There was a drawing, smudged but definitely still there. A small drawing of a girl’s side profile with fingers pressed to her lips like she was holding a cigarette, except she wasn’t. She’s simply touching her lips, depicted in a way that made her look so delicate despite the harsh black ink that carved her into the cardboard. She was pretty. It was probably his girlfriend, more than likely he didn’t think about what sleeve he grabbed and rushed to cup your drink with the one he’d drawn her on. Why did that make your stomach sink a little?

Still, it was a nice drawing. As you slipped it off the cup, you saw the words that made your stomach entirely fall out of your ass.

Sweetheart.

Hyunjin waited again for you to return. When you didn’t the next day he was sure he scared you off. There was a reason you remained anonymous, to avoid situations exactly like this one. He just couldn’t help himself. If you freaked out, he’d act clueless and make an excuse to say it was only a cute nickname. He hoped you wouldn’t take it like that, however the fact that it took you another week and a half to come back to the coffee shop told him that was probably what you thought.

You avoided his gaze when you came into the shop for the third time. There was no line for once, but then again, it was way past the morning when you’d come the first few visits.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched when you came straight up to the counter and met his eyes timidly, darting around as if you were scared to truly look at him.

“The usual?” He asked, hoping the sincerity in his voice would ease your clear distress.

“N— no… No drink…” Your words trailed off and Hyunjin felt himself starting to panic.

“I’m not a stalker, I swear. I just really… admire your work? For lack of a better phrase.” The genuineness could be felt in the air between you, and it made you want to trust him. But still, there’s always lingering doubt.

You lowered your voice and held out the doodled cup sleeve, “maybe you should keep the drawings of your girlfriend somewhere you won’t give to someone else you’ve seen naked.”

“What?” Hyunjin stared at you, blinking soullessly.

He had expected you to yell at him, scream, make a scene and call him all kinds of names. This was not on his bingo card.

“Your… your girlfriend?” You raised up the drawing and he laughed. A full belly laugh that made his shoulders shake and luscious black hair fall into his handsome, handsome face. “I’m very confused right now.”

“Oh, you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t know you well enough for you to be making fun of me.”

“I’m off in thirty minutes. Wanna get coffee?” It was your turn to stare blankly at him. He smiled again shyly, “barista joke, forget it. But seriously, can we… maybe talk?”

“You just wanna talk?”

“Yeah.”

“…Alright.”

“I’ll call your name when your drink’s ready.”

“I didn’t order—“

“On the house,” Hyunjin leaned both hands into the counter, tipped his head slightly down, and smirked. Like a fucking player. That stupid smile, you don’t even know the guy and still want to simultaneously kiss him and slap that grin off his face. A frown and a nod, you sit at an empty table in the corner.

Less than five minutes later, Hyunjin is walking over to you with the drink in hand and he takes the open seat across from you.

“Aren’t you still working?”

“You’re the only one here.” You glance around the room, the shop is completely empty.

“A filthy blonde chai, plus one more shot.” The drink is slid over to you by large, polished hands. “I’m not sure what they call a triple espresso chai… Most people usually stop at two. But, I don’t think you’re like most people.”

“Only a barista would use that line.”

“Honestly, I’m shitting bricks just sitting in front of you and I’m so glad I can barely hear myself over the music in this place because I wanted to melt into the floor as soon as I said it.”

The way he spoke was cute, like he couldn’t get himself to stop talking. “Are you fangirling right now?”

Hyunjin’s ears tinted a bright red and felt his cheeks flush with warmth. “Yeah, a little.”

“Over a pornstar?”

“To be fair you’re not a pornstar, you're a camgirl.”

“I don’t think that makes it any better.”

“For me or you?”

“…Both, I guess.”

He bit his plush bottom lip before letting slip from between his teeth, simply looking at you. “If it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I follow.”

It took you a minute to sit with that information, the entire ordeal was strange and you weren’t entirely sure what compelled you to come back to the shop in the first place. Within your silence, nothing actually processed in your head, there were no thoughts. Your career required you to be strategic as one wrong move could bring everything crashing down. As you sat in front of Hyunjin, the awkwardly suave, raven haired barista that makes a mean triple blonde chai, you realized how much you liked not having to think.

“You’re the only one I watch, actually,” he continues to ramble in the lingering silence. “There really isn’t anything else– or, anyone else that I want to watch. That sounds… really gross now that I’m saying it out loud… I’m sorry, I’m– you make me really nervous. I don’t even know why, I don’t even know you. I mean, I do know you, but I only just met you. A– and I only knew who you were because of your voice. The way you speak– I love the sound of it. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You only stared at him with an unreadable expression, keeping your heart-fluttered cards close to your chest. “That does make me feel a little better,” you admitted softly. “But you’re not a stalker?”

Hyunjin leaned onto his elbows on the table. Even sitting and slouching, he had to look down at you. “Sweetheart, you walked into my shop, remember? I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been streaming. You came to me.”

Not. A. Single. Thought.

How quickly he could go from a stuttering mess to acting like a cocky jackass gave you whiplash, you literally couldn’t predict what would come out of his mouth next. All that made your brain totally empty, words couldn’t form in your mouth to respond back.

Hyunjin reached across the table for where your hands played with the cup sleeve. His touch made warmth flood through your skin, up your arms and into your cheeks. He took the cardboard and held it next to your reddening face. “You really couldn’t tell?”

“I can tell that you should probably inform your girlfriend of the massive crush you have on a camgirl.”

He huffed and leaned back in his chair, tossing the cup sleeve between the two of you. “It’s not my girlfriend. It’s you.”

“What?! I don’t look like that!” You grabbed the drawing to examine closer, still not seeing the comparison.

“You look exactly like that! Maybe the marker I used was too thick, but it’s definitely you.”

“No, I mean this girl is… It’s not me.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Your head shot up to look at him. Was he really agreeing with you right now? “You’re waaay prettier than this. I had only seen you one time when I drew it, didn’t get to really look at your features. Was kinda starstruck, ya know?”

“...The more you talk, I can’t tell what you want from me.”

“Why do I have to want something from you to get to know you?”

What was his deal? Was he dense? Was there a sign on your back that said, “fuck with me?” This was a joke and no one was laughing but him. There was no reason for him to want to even talk with you, there had to be another reason. It didn’t make any sense.

“Everyone wants something. What do you want?”

Hyunjin leaned further forward and stared straight into your eyes, “to know you.”

How badly did you want to look away, but Hyunjin made it so hard. He kept the eye contact so steady, blindly reaching for your hand across the table and simply holding your fingertips with his, hardly even touching and the combination was still so deadly. His thumb rubbed lightly over your knuckles and you couldn’t help but lean in closer to him as well, furrow in his brow from the seriousness turn the conversation has taken only deepening.

He couldn’t read you as much as he tried. There was your poker face you’d mastered after the last person you’d cared about enough to take back to your showroom. Hyunjin didn’t know that, or even needed to know that, but you were weirdly comfortable around him. As uncanny as everything leading up to this was, your mouth moved on its own.

“Why do you deserve to?”

“Someone hurt you… badly, didn’t they? So much that you’re questioning why I want to know you as a person and not just a body.”

“Why do you keep talking like you know my life story? You don’t know me!”

“That’s kinda the whole point. I want to! You keep saying I don’t know you, so let me!” His voice raised slightly as yours did, mimicking your frustration.

And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were being annoying about this on purpose, you needed to push his buttons to see if he was going to be true to his word. If he wasn’t he’ll bow out quick after realizing you’re not worth all the effort. If he is… you hope for your heart he isn’t. But you want it so badly at the same time, you crave it. You’ve dreamed and fantasized of someone wanting you and only you, doing everything in their power to keep you, cherish you, make you feel so loved that they’d die if they couldn’t tell you that you meant more than the world to them. The kind of love that most people in your line of work gave up on a long time ago.

That’s the goal, isn’t it? To be loved? That’s what’s supposed to be the end game. If everyone is after it, why isn’t it easier to find?

“I have a livestream in two hours…” your voice quivered. Why were you telling him this?

“You do…” his was steady. Why is he still holding your hand?

“I want to trust you.” You wanted to hide under a rock. Why do you like him holding your hand?

“You’re doing the best you can.” He seems so honest. Why are you still scared?

“You get one chance. If you’re serious, maybe I’ll keep you around.” His smile is so sweet. What is happening?

“That’s all I need.”

Fuck, he’s here. Why is he in your apartment? Why did you bring him back here? Stupid, stupid, stupid. You were already regretting it when you led him through the threshold and removed your shoes. He complimented your place, said it smelled nice. That’s a good sign, but this was out of your comfort zone.

Way, way, waaay out of your comfort zone.

Is this self-destructive? It is, yet you’re doing it anyway. You already broke rule number 4: don’t give everything all at once. You bulldozed through it, actually, dust and cement and rubble in the wake of your metaphorical path to lead him into your home and towards your showroom.

You led him towards the bed that was to the side of your streaming desk so you could see him past the monitors. Hyunjin was hesitant and sat as close to the edge as possible. As you say next to him, you could smell the coffee that seemed to seep from his pores, bitter but still sweet, energizing but would let it lull you to sleep. His gaze didn’t stray around the room, he didn’t even bother looking at your set up, focused on the way your shoulders relaxed and looked to be slightly less timid.

Hyunjin didn’t know where to put his hands, keeping them in his lap as you reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “Why am I here, Y/N?”

“You’re going to help me.” His eyes grew wide in shock, mouth parting slightly. “Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter.” The force of which he closed his mouth made his teeth audibly knock together.

Hyunjin wanted to melt under the sudden intensity of your gaze, still playing with the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck while staring at him like a lion to a gazelle. “You get to look, but not touch… me.”

His eyebrows shot up, “what?”

“You heard me,” you leaned in closer, so close he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. Hyunjin was frozen solid and you haven’t even done anything yet, but he was ready to do anything you asked him to. Into his ear, you whispered, “look, no touching.”

It was just a peck. A simple peck of your lips to his cheek, that was all and it made Hyunjin’s entire body shake out of excitement. He got hard instantly and tried to adjust his pants so you couldn’t see the very obvious tent. Not for his efforts, you saw anyway and giggled. Oh, your laugh was so pretty, so innocent sounding despite the very unholy acts you were about to participate in. The same unholy acts he was about to participate in, too.

“Is this okay?” You asked, lips still close to his cheek. Hyunjin nodded rapidly, wanting to turn so you’d kiss him for real. “I need you to tell me, with your words, baby.”

“Y— yes, more.” There was a shudder in his voice, a very obviously excited one at that.

You placed another gentle kiss to his cheek, “more what?”

Hyunjin leaned in so you were cheek to cheek, “more kisses, please.”

“What’s got you so worked up? Haven’t done anything,” you cooed back, threading your fingers through his hair and his entire body shivered. “You like when I call you baby?”

He nodded again and leaned into your hand, the only downside of that was it pulled his face from yours. Hyunjin debated on cupping your cheek, but you’d said no touching and he wanted to be good for you. Even though his first instinct was to reach out, he stayed put, letting that energy flow into gripping the sheets below him.

You didn’t pull his hair, didn’t do anything but keep your hand tangled in it but the feeling made him shut his eyes. You were really here, holding him like this, talking to him the way he’d always imagined. The fact that you even considered giving him the time of day made him wonder if this was real life anymore.

“I thought you would. You’re my favorite, too.”

Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself, you were saying all the right words. He pulled away for a split second to look at

you in awe, then crash his lips against yours in a fevered kiss, searing hot and so, so needy. He whined into your mouth, completely lost in the sensation while you were taken slightly by surprise. Not in a bad way, you were just happy he’d been able to restrain himself for this long in the first place.

You kissed him back, just for a second before tearing him away by the back of the hair. Caught off guard, he softly whimpered at the harshness, then tried to follow your lips again but was unable. “No touching. If you can’t follow directions—“

“I can, I can! I promise.”

Huffing, you tossed him back to lay his head into the pillows. A devious smile played along his lips as his heart rate slowed again, “you liked it, though. I felt you kiss me back.”

You raised an eyebrow, moving to kneel onto the mattress beside him. “Hm, I can’t recall.”

It stung his heart a little, but he knew it was just an act. It was your way of riling him up.

You didn’t touch him now, there was still a few centimeters of space between your bodies and he could still feel your lips on his. His chest leveling out, erection in his pants painfully throbbing in his jeans, looking up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he could conjure, Hyunjin could die happy if you pat his back like after a sports match and sent him home.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move, you just looked at him. It made him slightly nervous only because he couldn’t be sure what you were thinking.

Hyunjin sat up on his elbows, “what are you gonna do to me?” Not an ounce of fear in his voice, pure curiosity and anticipation.

“I’m not gonna do anything.” His eyes followed you as you stood to walk towards your computers. It wasn’t until now did he see you sit in the chair he’d been watching you in since the start of your career. Seeing it in person made his chest feel warm, like knowing this bit of information was as if he’d truly been with you this entire time from the start.

You didn’t look at him as you typed at your computer for a moment, clicking the mouse a few times, and suddenly Hyunjin’s phone went off. He fished it out of his pocket to find a notification from that godforsaken website, “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: heat signature.”

“Am I gonna be on—“

“No, I wouldn’t throw you to the wolves like that.”

“…What does heat signature mean?”

“Our little secret,” you made your way back to the bed, taking your spot next to Hyunjin once more. This time, though, your hand was placed next to his thigh, a little too close for comfort. Softly did your fingers play with the hem, Hyunjin darted his eyes down then back up to your face, feeling his chest heating up again. “No one knows that I’m not alone. No one knows I have you here with me, watching me, drooling over me. You’re the only one that gets to see everything. Straight into to the warmest parts of me.”

All the blood he had left in his head rushed straight to his cock, making Hyunjin even harder, if that was possible. “Please, touch me,” he found himself begging.

The laugh you let out was menacing, it made him cower back slightly. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But no. I want you to touch yourself for me.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked louder, a little more embarrassed now that you’d furrowed your brows at him and tilted your head. His chest deflated at your clear annoyance.

“It’s a very intimate thing,” you started, softening your eyes as his pride crumbled little by little. “Sometimes, I think it’s more intimate than sex itself, showing your partner how you like to be pleasured. It’s the key to a person’s body and mind. If you know what place to touch, how to touch them, they’re yours. If you make them cum, you own them.”

Well when you explain it like that, Hyunjin can’t help but feel sorry for snapping. It makes sense to him, “knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge is power. Sex is more than physical. It’s emotional, mental— it’s everything before the clothes come off and everything after you both cum. If you feel seen, then your partner is doing something right.”

A few silent seconds, you could tell he understood by the way he was looking at you; ready to comply with any request. Hyunjin loved the way you talk so freely about sex, like it was just another conversation because it is. It’s nothing to be ashamed about and it’s not taboo. Your nonchalant, yet very caring attitude about the topic of sex made him feel more comfortable than any ex partner ever had when he was actually naked in front of them.

“Can I take my pants off now?”

You rolled your eyes, “keep your underwear on.”

Hyunjin thought he was fast before, this was a new record. Clothes were off in the blink of an eye— at least, his were. You eyed him up and down as he stripped and stood at the foot of the bed for your next instruction. “On your back.” He clambered onto the bed, not even caring that you were still fully dressed and he was in nothing but his boxers.

“Close your eyes.” He did. But only after he took a long, adoring stare into yours. “Did kissing me get you this hard, baby?” Hyunjin nodded, clawing at the sheets to keep himself contained.

You chuckled softly, “that makes me happy. This should be easy for you, then.” The bed shifted beside him and suddenly heat was swallowing him whole. Your breath tickled his neck, feeling you sitting closer to his head as you continued to talk to him. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think anything of it.”

What a boner killer. Not his boner, though.

“Then when you smiled at me, I thought it was just to get you some extra tips. Clearly, it worked. This is a pretty big tip. You have such a pretty smile.” Hyunjin’s hips kicked up just slightly. He couldn’t see it, but you were smirking at how easy he was to work up.

“Such a pretty smile, but such a dirty mind. I wanna know,” your lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Tell me, baby. What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

“You,” he answered immediately, fighting the urge to palm at his twitching dick.

Gently as not to startle him, you unclenched his hands from the sheets and moved them towards where he needed it most, keeping your hands to yourself as soon as he got the idea.

“Me? That’s sweet,” you were sincere, flattered. “What about me?”

Hyunjin rubbed the heel of his palm hard into his cock through the thin fabric. There was already a darkening wet patch, your mouth watered at how much he was leaking. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was big. Not so much girth, but just the right width with a little extra length and it made your pussy clench at the prospect of what could be.

“Mmph— your hands. So pretty, want them around my throat.” Just the light graze of your fingernails raking across his neck made Hyunjin buck up into his own hands. “An— and your thighs. Looks so soft, I wanna bite into them.”

“And mark me up? Wanna leave pretty bruises for everyone to see?”

“Fuck, yes!” He pressed harder, resisting from sticking his hand down his pants. Obviously, you couldn’t have that, you were in a time crunch.

“Underwear off.”

“Thank god,” he rushed to shove them down, not even past his knees before he grabbed his cock and began to tightly fist himself.

There was a messy coating of precum over the tip, glistening in the soft warm pink and yellow mood lighting. He really did have a pretty cock, assumptions right in that he was perfectly proportioned with girth and length, looking oh-so-suckable.

“Fuck, keep talking. Please.”

“What is it about me that really gets you off? Hm? You like how amateur and naïve I act? Or is it that you can imagine any girl’s face when I touch myself?”

“No, no,” he whined, tightening his first around the upper half of his dick, short but hard ruts into the fleshy ring.

“No? Then what is it, baby?”

“Your voice— god, fucking hell. The way you speak, the way you talk like you’re only talking to me. Like you only want me, that there’s no one else that you need and I’m the only one who can make you feel so fucking good— fuck!”

He was leaking more and more to puddle onto his abdomen. You reached over to dip the tip of your finger into it, swirling around in the mess before bringing the coated digit back up to his mouth. “Open.” He did, and closed as soon as he felt your finger press onto his tongue. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of himself, not at all put off but rather throbbing even harder.

“What would you do to me if I gave you the chance?” You asked quietly, genuinely curious as he swirled his tongue around your cleanly-licked finger.

The question erupted a louder groan from deep within his chest, hardly muffled by the weight on his tongue. You stole it away so he could talk, secretly putting it into your mouth as his eyes were still closed to get a little glimpse more of what he tastes like.

“Make you be a little pillow princess at first. Wouldn’t let you lift a finger and kiss you everywhere. Hard.” You liked that idea, pressing your legs together. “Wanna taste your pussy so bad. I’d eat you out until you’d be begging for me to stop and fuck you. No, I wouldn’t. I’ll feast on you for as long as I fucking want— only if you use your safe word would I stop.” He murmured that last part a little softer. How sweet.

Hyunjin sped up his movements, gathering the leaking fluids to use as lubricant and letting the wet sounds fill the room.

“Would you make me cum?” It was an innocent question.

“Would I?” But he took offense to it. “I’d make you cum all night long if you wanted. With my mouth— in my mouth. On my cock, make you hump my thigh like you do with those stupid fucking toys. God, I hate them and I love them, they always make you cum so hard. I can do that, too. I can make you cum so hard you’ll never wanna come back down. Fucking shit, want you to ride my thigh so badly. Want you to wanna fuck me all day, everyday, want you to think of me the way I think of you.”

His stomach was tensing, reaching down with the other hand to fondle his balls. You watched every one of his movements, memorized the places he reacted to the most. It seemed the tip was clearly the most sensitive, but he liked just the quick swipes over it, probably too sensitive for his own good. But then his grip would tighten just under it, fucking the ring of his fingers like it was a pocket pussy. He tugged at his balls, rolling them in his palm and arching into the bed. You wondered how long until he was ready to blow.

“I want that.” Your admittance made him peek open his eyes slightly. You didn’t scold him for disobeying, instead keeping the eye contact and moving off the bed.

Hyunjin watched as you stripped your top off facing him, then your bottoms to reveal a cute light purple set. Nothing too fancy, but so suited to you it made his mouth drool over the way the strappy underwear hugged your love handles.

“But I have a job to do. So you’re gonna keep quiet for me, okay?” He sat up, slowing down his motions but not stopping.

Hyunjin was in awe. Mindless, jaw dropping awe in how easily you stripped in front of him. He never thought the act of you taking off a shirt in front of him would have him almost cumming instantly. Of course he’s seen you naked, but this was domestic. This was nothing any of your viewers has ever seen. Was he being a creep? Maybe, but you liked the way he was looking at you. He hasn’t been shy about wanting you, but how he couldn’t take his eyes off you now, it made the twisting in your belly churn tighter and brighter.

Thankfully your computer was already on, you didn’t have to look away from Hyunjin and his pretty cock. Just one click and you’re live.

But you waited. You waited for him to get closer to the edge. He needed a little push.

Taking your hand away from the mouse, you instead brought your knees up and rested your feet onto the chair to expose your core. With two fingers, you ran them over the gusset of your soaked panties, a visibly dark patch clear for Hyunjin to see.

His eyes rolled back and sped up the jerking movements, the loud slick noises echoing in the small room. Just the sound of him made you gush, so close to skipping your livestream just to fuck him into tomorrow.

No. Self control. Just this once.

You rubbed yourself a little harder over the fabric, waiting for the right moment. When his mouth dropped and let out a small whimper, you quickly closed your legs and turned back to the computer.

“Quiet now, baby. Relax and enjoy, but don’t make a sound.”

“Fuck— wait, I’m gonna cum—“

You quickly adjusted the camera and clicked, start live.

“Have I kept you waiting long?”

☆ﾟ

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